#one day my muse for him will return perhaps

[sebastianshaw]

FRIEND JUST SENT ME THIS AND IM HOWLING

also I learned a new word! apparently oleaginous means GREASY FSJGFJSD

[kalims]

⋆ too drunk to recognize your boyfriend

feat. third years of diasomnia

malleus

"I.. have a boyfriend,"

to an extent. the guarded, suspicious look on your face would have concerned malleus to no belief, to others. he wouldn't have bat an eye whatsoever, but it's you so the feeling crawls up his spine and clouds his heat. he can't help the slight nudge of offense clouding his face cause you definitely shouldn't have any reason to make such a face to his.

the more his arm reaches out towards you—to ground your swaying form perhaps, the more you seem to be inching away from him. which shouldn't make sense at all! "child of man?" he murmurs. dropping the attempt to console you, to which you squint at him. back pressed against the front door to his dorm.

"who are you?!" you point at him, and he blinks. mortification spreads in his head. you've.. accumulated amnesia?!

malleus' fingers clench around the fabric on his chest, just after he had retracted the outstretched limb in fear of frightening you even more. there's a certain stiffness to his hand that illicit a drop of sweat from his forehead. him? he's your mal?

if he had the nerve to cry, he would.

but of course, you remain a priority. you exhibit unnatural behavior. no one just forgets important details in a day! you especially, won't forget about him! and he won't let you, ever.

you sway. your eyes darting around, and squinting like you're struggling to focus on one subject of your attention, a factor that might affect it is the fact you keep looking around instead on settling on something, preferably him. and, malleus is torn between steadying you, or him.

he chooses you.

despite your half hearted protest that audibly makes him sulk more, he twists the door to the dorm open and ushers you inside. not too much of a struggle, if anything, you seem lighter, and he almost actually hauled you around with minimal effort.

"must be a good night," a voice purrs, malleus doesn't have to glance at the source to know that it's lilia. years spent with the man does wonder with familiarity. it took him a couple of decades to get used to him. strangely enough he feels like he's known you longer, despite not.

the statement makes the taller male frown. lilia though, keeps the tiny smile, now tickled with a hint of amusement as the rubies shift from your blubbering form to malleus' face. oh? he's upset now. lilia muses. it's easy to ascertain his boy's move, like a sixth sense.

so lilia decides to probe further. "no? your face tells me otherwise."

malleus huffs a little. one of the habits he never seemed to grow out of ever since he learned to keep his... more draconic traits at bay. "you are less than accurate with your assumption," his eye twitches, either torn between distressed or irritation. despite the conflicting behavior, he still manages to treat you with a gentle hand while leading you towards the couch.

"it is a very terrible day." malleus continues. sad enough to complain, but fond of you enough to take the hint from your apparent cautious behavior towards him. lilia almost laughs when he spies him gloomy, sitting on the far end, away from you.

the lightning strikes just as the clouds roll in. lilia peers behind the curtains, chuckling a little at the weather.

well! he just hadn't seen malleus moping around this much since, what? when that gold trinket wouldn't fit in his tower anymore? "why so, my dear?" lilia coos, positively charmed by the 'adorable' disposition.

of course, he already knows. he'd heard your exchange moments ago.

lilia retains the easy look. "the child of man has forgotten about me," malleus explains. looking more stressed by the second. "whoever has done this, will pay." from a sad, faraway look to rage suddenly. "I beg of you, please return them." then switches back...?

he has half the mind to pretend like you're never gonna return normal but decides against it.

"of course!" lilia chirps. "they'll be well by tomorrow."

and, malleus looks like he had been holding the world by his shoulders seconds ago, a sigh of relief.

the next day, you're not sure why malleus is introducing himself in concerning detail. do you really need to know what color his assigned blanket was when he was given birth to...?

lilia

if anything, he's really the one who enabled your behavior.

"just one more." , "oh my, need another?" , "you look like you need it, come on now, don't be shy, you only live once~"

concerned, silver steadied you as you wobble on your feet. babbling about some nonsense under your breath which only illicits the boy to cast a disapproving glance at lilia (who only wears an amused smile).

"seems like they had quite the night." a cheery comment from the latter, and silver makes no move to resist when he moved closer with silent steps, then pries you to his side inside with a gentleness that would prove that he isn't.. actually the reason for your state, but not really.

lilia cooed, like he'd coddled them before. silver thinks but it is so distinct from the way he used to coax them into bed. "time for bed."

you peel your eyes open, squinting with a crease between your brows. you tug at your arm, of which doesn't really budge but lilia decides to humor the struggle so he lets go and raises his brows. "I'm not a kid!" you say, then turn your head to the side—like a kid.

oh, so adorable. lilia croons, swooning inside his head for a bit. how he'd like to simply hold you for hours end...

the romantic monolog of his daydreams though, is interrupted by you once more. ironic since you were the one he was just day dreaming about.

"oh, my. is that so? how lucky of me." he chooses to say instead.

silver sweatdrops. glancing between your hazy... anger maybe? it's not really anger in all honesty, just bordering. then to the lax demeanor his father exhibited. a glance would find normality in it, but he hasn't seen him pick on someone so...

he doesn't know the word for it, perhaps insisting on bothering a singular person as much as he can?

you gasp, snapping your head to silver. cause apparently you recognize him, but seemed scandalized by lilia's presence. "silver! protect me!"

amused, lilia watches you scurry back behind the boy.

"there's nothing to protect you from..."

"there's a man!"

"I'm a man too..."

"there's a bad man!"

your head peeks out from silver's confused frame, lilia's head follows the action. tilting to the side as you eye him hilariously warily. hmmm.. so very cute. "I'm an innocent, only wishing to steal my beloved." he replies, with a usual lightness. though the usual relaxation you had around him is replaced with irritation.

"you can't steal me away, my boyfriend and his children will strangle you."

lilia shares a look with silver. where did they get the idea of... such violence?

silver shrugs. not a clue, he seems to reply back, committed to just remaining a bystander even if he's technically in the middle.

"is that so?"

you nod vehemently, a more open vulnerability clear on your face than before. you point to lilia (well, technically you don't actually know its him! or maybe you're just playing with him?) squinting, accusing at all with him at the end of your pointer finger. the male only raises his brow, and flashes you a cheeky smile.

lilia contemplates playing with you. as in, replying 'why don't you guess?' because knowing you, even in this state you'd probably tell him: "how would I know?" then proceed to guess anyway.

you would have a cute expression, perhaps. but he isn't so cruel to the point where he would waste time—time you could be using to rest instead, preferably get sober, remember him when you wake up, and return to your lovey dovey self.

alright. maybe not lovey dovey on some days but he would definitely prefer that than you using his son as a shield against him, like the boy could actually hold him back.

well, it is technically his fault... but lilia had all the intentions to care for you if you ever got too drunk, he'd hold you up if you were too unsteady, guide you away from possible fiends, and make sure you recovered well the following morning.

but, this definitely didn't enter his area of expectations.

"yup!" you cry. "he might be short, but he can kick butt." for someone who's heard many arrogant words, he's never seen one who says one thing—a threat in your case, then you proceeded to cower behind the nonchalant silver.

you nudge silver.

silver blinks. "um... that's correct."

you glance back at lilia. as if to say I told you!

"so... he will kick my... butt?" lilia hums, indulging in using the world. goodness, good thing sebek is not here. that boy definitely would've kicked you out for endorsing such foul language.

he feigns a look of horror, to his amusement you seem to brighten.

simply adorable...

long story short. you seem to believe you've truly scared him off when he disappears.

concerned even more, silver watches you welcome lilia back with a dreamy sigh. like... you actually recognize him as your lilia, and not the guy you were just... threatening to bite the curb.

this is absurd... I should just rest... silver sighs.

lilia only beams at the showering affection.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SEVENTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, degrading, mentions of death/blood, dove is called some nasty words, please heed warnings for this chapter masterlist a/n: girlbossed a little too hard and finished the chapter a day early. posting this after my 14 hour shift with nothing but hope and dreams. this chapter is a long one, i think the longest one so far, so have fun :p

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Up close, Graves was even more sinister than imagined. It was as if you were living in your own nightmare come to life, with beady eyes crinkling back at you as a curled smile stretched over his face. Adorned in all black from head to toe, with the only spouts of color being the mess of dark blonde atop his head, nearly covered by the old, leather pirate hat.

His skin was deathly pale, a feat you knew to be from his reaping sins. To take a life in return for a piece of his—a soul bind.

If he weren’t such a sick man, you’d dare say he’d been handsome, if it weren’t for the look of rotting to the core. His personality did no justice, something cocky and mighty. He knew exactly how to play his game, and he played it well.

In your turmoil, you dared to wonder if all of this was indeed another nightmare. Perhaps you were still asleep, stuck in an endless loop until Soap or Gaz awoke you as they always did; but with a sharp pinch on your thigh beneath the thin covers of Price’s bedspread, the world remained at ease.

This one wouldn’t be easy to get out of.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Graves mused, smile so wide you worried the corners would crack and bleed. You wished you could see him writhe like a helpless roach beneath your shoe. “Why the long face?”

“How—” You swallowed, fisting the sheets. “How are you here?”

Graves stood straight, glancing around the room. He pretended to ponder, holding his arms up to shrug. “I let myself in.”

Your eyes followed his every move as he slowly stepped throughout Price’s quarters, taking it in. You sat as still as a statue, completely frozen in place. The sound of his heavy boots along the wood floors rang alarm bells.

The air in the room fell icy cold, rising goosebumps on your skin. There was that frigid chill that felt as if you’d just stepped into a slaughterhouse, a hint of decay tickling your nostrils.

This was the feel of death you’d always felt, lingering behind you, watching. He’d always been there, even if only in your mind.

“Where is the Captain?” you asked, attempting to make your voice firm. Show no weakness—it was the very thing you’d been taught since your first day on the ship. You hoped Price would be proud that you remembered.

Graves’ eyebrows raised and while his smile remained, it only seemed to glimmer with excitement when the question was asked, as if you asked a dog if he wanted a bone.

“He truly has you on a leash,” he snickered, finding something amusing in all of it. “You’re like their little bitch, aren’t you?”

Your blood ran hot at the demeaning nature his words brought, but you knew better. They were for show, something to make him appear taller. If you fell for it, you’d only be digging a deeper grave for yourself.

“No,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I am a pirate, just as them.”

Graves barked out a laugh, one that made your ears bleed. It was meant to deplete your confidence, poisoned with arrogance.

“Is that right?” he asked with a shit-eating grin. “A pirate, are you?”

Graves stalked towards you, agonizingly slow, stopping when his knees bumped the side of the cot. He leaned down so his face was level with yours, empty eyes peering deep within your soul. His breath reeked of death and despair, nearly knocking you unconscious.

“I’d like to test that.”

His icy hand wrapped around your bicep, hauling you out of the bed. With a yelp, you stumbled to your feet, bare of their shoes. The world beneath your soles felt foreign now, ever since Soap had given you your gift and you’d never take them off unless you were falling asleep.

The grip was tight, causing your heartbeat to thump through your muscles angrily. Your skin under his hand paled from the sheer force.

Graves tugged you along as you fought to resist him, squirming and attempting to plant your feet to the floor. Without the help of your shoes compared to his unruly strength, your fight was deemed useless. He continued dragging you, so much so you could feel little splinters begin to dig into your soles and invoke dull pangs of pain.

Fear filled your body from head to toe, your heart pounding against your rib cage. A lump filled your throat, coated with anxiety. Your mind filled with millions of thoughts, smothering any confidence you previously had and replacing it with the idea of death.

Was this where all would end? Your crew was one of the most feared among the seas, a healthy bounty placed over their heads. But there would always be one person above, and that person was Graves.

Every kick, bump, resist was fruitless as Graves hauled you to the door. What lay beyond it terrified you, images of your men dead flashing before your eyes.

Coated in their own bloodbaths, bodies laid limp amongst the floors of their own homes, sprawled out as if they meant nothing. Oh, you couldn’t bear it. You’d have to go, too—you’d have nothing left.

When Graves opened the door, you weren’t sure if the sight was any better.

It was dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky, granting no room for light. A single lantern was all that was left to cast orange shadows, its fire flickering in a dance for a way out.

Your crew was lined shoulder to shoulder, on their knees in a submissive front, hands bound with thick rope behind their backs. Graves’ men, his Shadows, held the barrel of their guns to each of their heads.

Though the sight was an improvement from what you initially prepared yourself for, it was far from good. It was bordering those images, a glimpse into what could be a massacre.

The moment you were out of Price’s quarters, Graves let go of you, shoving you. You lost your balance, tumbling to your side, your head slamming into the deck. Pain blossomed under your skull and you hissed in pain.

“Dove?” you heard one of them call out. Your head spun, making it hard to figure out who it was.

A heavy blow landed on your side where you lay, and you wheezed, Graves’ boot unexpected. It kept you in place, applying pressure to guarantee you wouldn’t try to flee and fight back.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Price growled. You could recognize it, filled with a burning venom that dared to kill anyone that was in its crossfire. “This has nothin’ to do with her.”

“It’s all to do with her,” Graves spat, digging the toe of his boot into your rib cage. His previous cockiness had melted away, revealing his boiling rage. “Isn’t that right, dove?”

Graves lifted his boot, granting you a brief moment of relief before it slammed back down. It knocked the air right out of your lungs, leaving you croaking out a plea to stop.

You coiled in on yourself, curling into a ball in attempts to lessen the damage. It did nothing to stop his boot from weighing on your side. The pain felt like nothing you’d experienced before, and you were sure you felt a bone crunch.

“Dove,” Gaz called out, frantic. He tried leaning forward to get a glimpse of your face, to search for your eyes, but the barrel of the gun only pressed deeper into the back of his skull in warning. “Dove, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, alright? I’m right here.”

Your eyes were widened with fear, chest heaving to catch the breaths that were stolen from you. You couldn’t move, frozen in place, even as Gaz called out for you with the threat of a bullet through his head.

“I don’t know what you’re plannin’, Graves,” Price snarled, “but this is between us.”

Graves laughed diabolically, throwing his head back. It only made everything much more tense.

“Isn’t she apart of you now?” Graves humored, cocking his head. His fingers drummed along the gun in its holster on his hip. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s a pirate. I believe those were your words, Price.”

The realization that Graves knew had you going cold. The closer he got, the stronger the connection became.

“What the hell is it ye want?” Soap asked through gritted teeth. His eyes were darting back and forth between your crumpled form and Graves. “S’always somethin’ with ye, aye?”

Graves eyed Soap, a glint in his gaze. There was something unfamiliar in it, as if he held a personal grudge towards the man in question.

“There is something I want,” Graves agreed, letting out a dramatic sigh. He tapped at the gun once again, staring up at the sky in thought. “I think dove here knows exactly what that is.”

Graves dug his boot once again, peering down at you as if you were scum. You couldn’t stop the small whimper from the agony drumming in your side.

“Go on, dove,” Graves taunted, grinning. “Tell them.”

“I don’t know,” you panted. You were unfocused, eyes staring at the old floor from where your head rested.

You tried recalling what it is he could want, anything at all, but nothing was becoming clear. You scavenged through the deepest parts of your brain for even a simple clue, but the blows had made you dazed.

“I swear, I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

“You do know,” Graves repeated, cutting off the Captain. His tone grew annoyed. “Think real hard, dove.”

“I don’t know,” you cried, shoulders beginning to shake. All the built up confidence to fight back had vanished into thin air. Now, you felt like a scared little girl, begging for mercy.

Graves’ boot lifted, then returned back down. A string of curses were thrown his way from your crew, who were thrashing in the binds, unable to aid you under the lineup of guns to their heads.

You felt wetness cascade down your cheeks, dampening your skin and falling down to the side of your head from the angle you laid. It was then you realized you were crying, embarrassingly so.

Only mere hours ago you were deemed a pirate, and yet at the start of war, you fell apart like a damsel.

“The telescope,” Ghost said, voice low. It was the first he’d spoken, only sitting there silently as you were beaten down. His head hung low, as if ashamed, though the darkness in his eyes was enough to cast doom across entire continents. “He’s talkin’ about the telescope.”

You blinked away the tears, eyes burning. Realization dawned on you the moment Ghost spoke. Through your huddled position, you tried to tilt your chin down to meet his eye. As if thinking the same thing, he lifted his head, connecting your gazes. You could see that familiar apology pooling out of him, expressing everything he needed to say.

Washed away to land and shore,

shall be the looking glass for ocean eyes.

The telescope you found for Gaz was an innocent gesture. The sight of it called out to you, as if meant to be owned by you. If you would’ve known it was Graves it was calling, you would’ve thrown it into the deep sea so it could never be found again.

“So he speaks,” Graves mused sarcastically.

Ghost broke contact first, eyes boring into Graves. He looked murderous, plotting his own bloodbath with just a simple look. The dim light of the single lantern did nothing to lessen the ominous glow, only highlighting it.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to him,” Soap hissed, scowling. The look of pure disgust was such a contrast to his normal, boyish grins.

Graves paid no mind to him, stuck in a contest with Ghost. The two of them had a dark force swirling between them, one that even outside made the air heavy and suffocating.

“A point for your bravery, Ghost,” Graves sighed dramatically, breaking his stare. He looked between each and every man, sparing you no glance while his boot remained in place. “My telescope. Give it to me, and I’ll let her go.”

You instantly shifted your eyes to look at Gaz, who seemed to be struggling with a decision. You knew why he was having a hard time—you gifted the telescope to him, unknowing of who it truly belonged to. It was something he treasured, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“I have it,” Gaz said lowly, head bowing. “It’s in my quarters. I’ll take you to it.”

Graves sucked his teeth, feigning pity. He shook his head, hand fully resting on the gun at his hip. “Not going to work on me, Gaz. I’m quite capable of getting it myself. You sit tight, aye?”

Gaz stiffened, expression growing grim. Nevertheless, he said nothing, deciding silence was the best contender for a fight bound to end in loss.

Graves gestured for the man behind Price to fetch the telescope from Gaz and Soap’s shared quarters. Price didn’t tear his eyes away from Graves once, even as the Devil of the Seas took out his own gun and pointed it right at Price’s forehead.

He pressed the barrel of the gun into Price’s forehead, indenting the skin. It was a snug fit, a perfect shot for Graves if he wished to end things the easy way.

Graves didn’t like it easy. He liked it fun.

“Scared we’ve caught on to your trail, aye?” Price bluffed, voice gravelly and malicious. “That’s why you came out here like a fuckin’ mutt, hidin’ in the storm until you found the right time to ambush us?”

“You have your dove to blame,” Graves replied nonchalantly, rubbing his boot back and forth along your side. The pressure had you sucking air through your teeth, eyes clenching shut. “She might be your new toy, but she’s just as much a mutt as I am.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Price snarled, body shaking with feverish rage. If he could pounce on Graves, you knew he would.

“Looks like you finally grew some balls, Captain,” Graves snickered, pulling back the hammer of the gun. It resounded a loud click, which translated to a warning bell in Price’s favor. “Such anger. That anger has never worked for you, Price. It didn’t work for Ghost—it won’t work for her.”

Price let out an animalistic growl, his lips pulling back in a sneer. You’d seen the Captain angry, and you’d seen him under the guise of a scary, ominous pirate who would kill any innocent bystander that stood in his way.

This was entirely different. This was personal. A build up. This was a storm that had been coming for ages, and you were only toeing the edges.

The Shadow returned, holding the telescope you’d gifted Gaz. It shimmered in the lantern’s glow, glinting its gold details and showing it off. It felt like a goodbye.

“I’d be real careful from now on, Graves,” Price warned. It was the first you ever heard him speak so menacingly, like the demon inside of him was erupting with a stream of hot lava filled with nothing but spewing hatred. “When I find you, I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself. String you up on my sails until you’re dry, toss you into the ocean to the sharks. I’ll take pleasure in watchin’ you burn until there’s nothin’ left but ash and dust.”

Graves took the telescope from his Shadow’s hand, inspecting it. The words Price spoke clearly struck a nerve, for the arrogant grin had vanished, replaced with a gloomy, threatened expression.

“Hm,” Graves huffed, letting his gun fall and placing it back in its holster. He signaled for his men to follow suit, and you watched as all weapons dropped. “I await the day that happens, Captain. Until then, keep your mutt on a leash, aye?”

Graves made no effort to untie the crew, leaving them bound as he gathered his men to walk the plank connecting the two ship. A long, woden plank that creaked under the weight, one od wish you could kick from its balance and send them flying into the dark sea.

The moment was brutally silent as they left. Nobody moved a muscle until Graves was on his ship, the plank pulled from its placement, and the skull flag waved goodbye as they set sail into the pit of the night.

Time stood still, but the second Graves and his crew were hidden in the waves, all hell broke loose. Price and Gaz worked together to unbind each other with their backs to one another, frantic to be released. Ghost sat silently, eyes staring into the floorboards as if they’d speak to him.

“Say somethin’, dove,” Soap begged, scooting on his knees to be by your side.

As if the dam broke, you began to cry once more, heartbreaking sobs coming right from your core. You curled up tighter into your ball, your hand resting on your side as if it would magically ease the pain.

“It hurts,” you replied, voice cracking.

You’d stayed strong up until that point. Now, you couldn’t hold up your front.

You were scared. You felt more helpless than ever. You couldn’t remain strong for the sake of pretend anymore. Everything hurt, and Graves��� presence shook you to your very core.

“I know,” he cooed. He made a frustrated noise when he struggled against the binds. “I know, dove. We’re right here, alright?”

It felt strange, being on the other side of the spectrum. You were used to being the one to aid people in their injuries, but now, it was you being comforted. You couldn’t grasp what your life had become.

Price was released from his binds, quickly helping Gaz slip out of his. While Gaz made quick work to move to work on Ghost, Price was by your side in an instant.

One hand rested on your hip, turning your body towards him while the other found your face, resting his palm on it. His eyes were filled with worry when you faced him and he urgently wiped at your tears with his thumb.

“Dove,” he breathed in relief, his heart aching at the sight of you so broken. This was his fault. “You’re okay, I have you.”

You whimpered when he shifted so he could slide his arms beneath you, one under your shoulders and the other in the bend of your knees. The movement flared pain all over again, and Price murmured apologies, unsure of what to do.

He hurried to his quarters, his men following closely behind like scared dogs with their tails between their legs. Gaz held open the door, and you only caught a glimpse of his guilt-stricken expression before you were ushered in.

Price carefully slid you on to his cot, wincing every time you whimpered or cried. The pain felt excruciating, your breathing quick and labored.

“She needs a medic,” Soap stressed.

“She is a medic,” Gaz reminded, resting his hands on the edge of the cot so he could lean over and inspect your face. “We have no help besides her.”

“Well, she can’t treat herself, ye fuckin’ oaf,” Soap snipped, shooing him away from your space. “Cap, she needs to get checked. She can’t even breathe properly!”

Your head began to pound from the sheer loudness that filled the room. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache while simultaneously trying to correct your breathing.

You knew well enough that there was something shattered or broken. A rib, though small in theory, but dreadfully painful without the correct medicines. Not to mention the amount of force Graves had used—it was pure hell.

Price was silent, as was Ghost, the two of them sharing a conversation with just a look. There was an understanding shared, and Price gently shoved Gaz and Soap aside, replacing them.

He mimicked Gaz’s previous stance, leaning on the bed. His hand came to brush a stray tear away, frowning embedded in his mouth.

“Tell me what to do, dove,” he said softly. “I’ll do whatever it is.”

You sniffled, hand shaking where they rested on your side. You shook your head, nearly deranged from the shock and horror of it all, unable to snap out of it.

“I—I can’t fix it on my own, Captain,” you quivered, lips trembling. “It hurts.”

Price nearly broke, filled with guilt. He glanced behind him at Ghost, who quickly looked away, hands balling into fists.

“I know,” he assured calmly, brushing his finger along your cheek where he wiped the tear away. “We’ll fix it, aye? You just have to sit tight until we can. Can you do that for us, dove?”

Though you knew the wait would be cruel—a slow healing process until you could receive proper care—you found yourself nodding shamelessly, instantly trusting Price and his promises.

Price nodded along with you, giving your cheek a comforting pinch. “Attagirl,” he praised, calming your nerves.

“I’ll fuckin’ gut him,” Soap muttered, jaw pulled tight. “He’s fuckin’ dead.”

Gaz reached up to grip Soap’s nape, tugging at his hair. Soap threw him a glare, one Gaz promptly ignored, turning his attention to you.

“Listen to Cap, birdie,” Gaz encouraged warmly. “We’ll get you all fixed up. You won’t even know you’re hurtin’.”

Price had a look of hesitation when you caught his eye. You furrowed your eyebrows, frowning in confusion before he spoke again, causing you to grow uncomfortable.

“We need to check it first, dove,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t feel well with all of us bein’ here, you can pick who you prefer. No hard feelin’s, hm?”

The idea that one, if not all, had to see you undressed in order to inspect the damage was one that made you a bit dazed. You’d never been seen beneath your raggedy clothes in the village, and the same applied for your time on the ship. It felt sacred, like your vulnerability was on the line, but you had to remind yourself that it was purely medical—you’d done it plenty of times when in practice at your old home.

“It—it is fine, just… just turn away, yes?” you pleaded, unable to meet any of them in the eye.

You heard a round of shuffling, only seeing Gaz elbow Soap in the corner of your vision. Once you were sure they feasted their eyes upon the old wall, you began to carefully lift your hips, biting your lip to muffle the pained noise that threatened to leave.

The hem of your dress was swiftly pulled up past your thighs, all the way until your torso was exposed. You stopped it beneath your breasts, quick to tug the blanket over your nakedness that remained uninjured and in no need to be checked.

The anxiety that pooled in your stomach left you queasy, but you toughed through it, knowing how important it was. If you had more than a mere fracture, it could become worse over time.

“Okay,” you said quietly, cringing when they turned to take you in. The men did their best to make you feel as at ease as possible, gearing their focus towards the nasty swelling on your side.

You dared to take a peek yourself, fearing for why they were so quiet. What you saw was ugly—swollen and puffy, beaten to the point it was already turning purple and blue. It was tender to the touch, even more so without clothing as a barrier.

The worst was the gnarly, black veins that spouted out like roots, dipping deep into the new bruising. It was inhuman, something completely out of the ordinary. You knew it was Graves’ dirty work, and it reminded you of when Ghost had cut his finger in the kitchen and his blood turned black, vanishing into thin air.

When you shifted your eyes from your injury, you searched for Ghost’s, who was hard-stuck on the veins. His body was tense, a darkness swirling in his irises.

“Ghost?” Soap tried, nudging the brute lightly. “Any idea what that is?”

Ghost glanced over to Soap before returning to your side, taking in the sight. “Could be anythin’,” he muttered, unsure. “I don’t know what all he’s capable of. For all we know, it could already be infected.”

“Infected?” you asked, a worried chill racking through you.

Price reached out a careful hand to spread his fingertips along the veins. You choked on a gasp at the immediate discomfort, face scrunching up into a wince.

“We’re goin’ to a doctor,” Price nearly growled, taking his hand away. “I don’t care where. The moment we spot land, we’re goin’.”

“We still have bounties on our head, Cap,” Gaz reminded with a frown. “We can’t just go anywhere. It’s not the same as shoppin’. If we end up in the wrong place, we might get ourselves in deeper shit.”

“That is a risk I’m willin’ to take,” Price argued, firm in his stance. “If we start nitpickin’ where to go, it might be too late. You’re either in or out.”

The room fell silent as the men stared at their Captain. The answer to them was obvious, though you knew why they hesitated; if they were imprisoned, it would do you no good.

Emotions were high and the clock was ticking. It placed everyone on edge.

“I agree with Price.”

All heads turned to Ghost, who stood with his arms crossed, eyes boring into yours.

“It’s my fault she’s marked. So long as she gets fixed up, I could care less about bein’ thrown into a cell. I’m with Price,” he finished.

“Ghost—” you tried.

“I am quite firm in what I’ve decided,” he interrupted harshly before realizing his mistake, calming himself down. He looked away from you, crossing his arms a bit tighter. “I’m in no mood for arguments.”

You went quiet, watching Ghost turn towards the door and plot his escape. You knew out of everyone, he was affected the most, tormented with sickening guilt for all that’s transpired. You could only imagine how he felt, now that times had grown darker.

“Let him go,” Soap murmured softly, gaining your attention. “He’ll be alright. Let’s just worry ‘bout ye, aye?”

You were torn, but you nodded nonetheless, silently agreeing.

“You’ll stay with me for now,” Price explained. “No use in movin’ you anymore than I have. I’ll get you situated for now, and then you can rest.”

Gaz, Soap, and Price muttered amongst themselves, discussing a brief plan of what to do. The two set off to find more pillows to extend your comfort while Price remained by your side, plopping himself in his chair with a heavy sigh. His elbows rested on its arms, his fingers coming up to rub at his temple.

He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent the longer you looked.

“I am sorry, Captain,” you said quietly, eyes glueing to the ceiling.

“What have you got to be sorry for?” he asked, frowning. “Got nothin’ to apologize for, dove. Our worry stems from care.”

“Yes, but,” you paused, gathering the words, “I have caused much trouble since my arrival. Things only seem to be harder for you.”

“Life was hard before you, dove,” he assured, letting his hand fall from his face. “That’s the way it goes. It is to no fault but the world.”

You took in his words, letting them sink in. You hadn’t known a true life of trouble before, the only hardships being your utter loneliness and daily taunts from the local villagers. This was something beyond your knowledge, and you were beginning to understand that there was more to life than simply displeasuring people. There was more than what meets the eye, but there was also light at the end of every tunnel.

“You do not see me as a mere burden?” you asked, and he huffed.

“What have I told you before?” Price pressed in return, tilting his head. “You are one of us. A true pirate, if that is what you’d like.”

“I am far from a pirate,” you scoffed to yourself, ashamed. “I could not even defend myself or any of you.”

“Dove,” Price called out softly. He scooted his chair closer to your bedside, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “A loss is not always a failure. Some wars are too big to handle on your own. There’s nothin’ wrong with that. Why must you speak so lowly of yourself?”

You stared at him unblinking, studying the furrow of his eyebrows and the curl of his lips, hidden beneath his beard. The worry lines on his forehead showed years of hardship, and you wondered how he managed to live through it if you could barely survive your own smaller ones.

“I have known nothing else,” you confessed bitterly, though not towards him. You were angry, not only with yourself, but at life for dealing its deck of cards in such an unfair way.

“I see,” he hummed, leaning back in his chair. He tapped his fingers along the armrests, getting lost in thought. “It was the same for me as well.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he sighed, picking at the splintering wood of the armrests. “My father was a captain before me. Had the tongue of a devil. Always angry, always cold—treated me like scum, even as a child.”

“I am sorry,” you murmured quietly. Price bristled, frowning.

“That is not the point, dove,” he replied. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the side of the bed, mere inches away from where you laid. You waited patiently for him to continue, keeping your gazes connected to show you were listening. “Some may treat you like a mutt on the street and deem your worth how they please. The only thing that matters is how you take it and how you come out of it.”

It dawned on you what he was implying. It was his way of comforting you, shielding you from your own burdening insecurities that never seemed to escape your mind.

“I could’ve remained angry and bitter, but now I captain my own ship and crew. The same applies for you—you may have experienced cruelty all your life, but you must take the reins on your own worth and decide what it is, dove.”

A blinding warmth shrouded you, like a blanket after being trapped in the icy cold, and you welcomed it with a smile. You’d never known Price to be so well with words, not int he way he was expressing now.

He knew what you needed to hear after being trapped in your own world of darkness, and he provided the light you needed to find your way out—all of them did. A glimmer of hope in a world full of loss.

“I am very thankful you kidnapped me,” you blurted, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

Price laughed, boisterous and loud, a smile washing over his face. It was a lovely sight, one that made your heart pound. Even through your pain, you found solitude in the aftermath, reaching a level of comfort you’d always wished to feel.

“I am happy to have you here despite it,” Price teased warmly. “I can say the same for the rest.”

You laughed, almost immediately regretting it at the shooting pain coursing in your side. He shot you a sympathetic smile, slowly standing from his chair.

“I will let you rest,” he said, giving you a gentle pat to your thigh over the blanket. Your heart jumped at the action, and you repressed it.

“You are not staying?” you asked, deflating.

“Soap and Gaz will be here with some more pillows soon. I must gather a plan so we can get you to a medic as soon as possible.”

It made sense, and you knew it was important. There was no telling what was flowing through the black veins, but your heart longed for more of his presence.

“Just for a moment longer?” you dared to request, voice small.

Price peered down at you from where he stood over you, a hint of surprise flashing on his expression before it softened. He nodded, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. You held on as long as you could.

“Just a moment then,” he repeated. “I will do it for you.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling as if you were on cloud nine. Your feelings were uncertain, but the more you spent with them, the clearer your vision became. It was an inner battle, forcing yourself to push them back in order to protect yourself. Now, though, you decided to allow yourself the comfort, just for a little while.

“Thank you,” you told him, unaware your voice had become a mere whisper. The air between you felt heavy, as if something unspoken was there.

Price glanced down at your hands that remained interlinked before shifting his gaze back at you. The gears in his mind were turning, and just as you were about to ask if it was alright, he beat you.

“I am not an emotional man,” he murmured quietly, seeming just as unsure as you were. “I make very stupid decisions and take paths I shouldn’t take. One of them is tellin’ me to kiss you, and I’m not sure if that’s alright.”

You froze in place, eyes growing wide. You were unable to look away, lost in your own little moment. Everything in you was yelling yes, yes, yes! and it was hard to ignore. You had always been weak in your feelings.

“Gaz tried to when I gifted him the telescope,” you said, unsure of why you did. “I hope that is okay.”

Price broke out into a smile, huffing out a breathy laugh. “So long as he did not beat me to it.”

You released a relieved breath, a shaky smile spreading on your lips. Price did not seem angry, and for that, you grew more enticed for a kiss. While your feelings for the others were all different in their special ways, having Price be the first was not something you could deny. It excited you more than it should.

Before you knew it, Price leaned down, capturing your lips in his own. There was no spark like you’d read in books you’d read at merchant stands when you couldn’t afford them, nor were there fireworks.

Instead, it was a calm sea that smothered you in peace, easing every worry that crowded your mind. They washed away, replaced with a warm buzz.

He was gentle, hand still grasping yours, the other coming to rest beneath your jaw. His skin was hot to the touch, rough from the callouses on his palm.

The moment wasn’t long, and when he pulled away, you wished you could reel him in for more.

“Rest,” he encouraged, his smile brighter than a thousand suns. “We’ll get you fixed up and better before you know it, alright?”

You nodded dumbly, your head empty. You were practically vibrating with excitement, the feel of his lips still tingling on yours.

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone before pulling back, stepping away from the bed. He gave you a soft farewell, reminding you that the boys will be back soon and to try and sleep until then.

Once he was out of the room, the quiet didn’t bother you. It wasn’t maddening, driving you up a wall, suffocating you with loneliness—it was peaceful and kind, welcoming you with open arms as you slipped into unconsciousness, the images flashing behind your eyelids of the four of them in your life only bringing you true comfort after the storm.

[sserpente]

Checkmate

“You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

 “Strip chess?” Sylus’ eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

A/N: What’s this? Another red-eyed, pale-skinned and silver-haired morally grey man? Might as well.

Words: 1386 Warnings: smut

You made it a point to sigh. Loudly. With your chin propped up on your elbows, you were sitting across from Sylus on the bed in your pyjamas, a chessboard in between you creating more distance from him than you wanted.

“Are you going to hyperventilate, kitten? This is the third time you’re sighing like this.”

“This is boring, Sylus.”

“Ah, you didn’t hear me complaining after ten long rounds of Kitty Cards, now did you?” He didn’t look up as he spoke. His crimson eyes were fixed on the chequered game board but his voice was not without that teasing tone that always drove you mad and never failed to turn you into a horny mess. Especially now, with how casually he was sitting on the bed with crossed legs and clad in comfortable clothes.

“The chess pieces aren’t meowing at me, it’s not the same. You know I’m bad at chess.”

“Then you’ll get better.” He made his move—and unfortunately, it didn’t mean much to you. You barely remembered the names of all the different pieces but you hadn’t wanted to turn him down when he asked for a round. Time spent with him was rare due to your different sleep schedules, and your visits to the N109 zones were even rarer. Things would change soon. But until then, you’d soak up every minute you could get with him. Even if he wanted to play chess. Even if it was boring as fuck.

“It’s your turn, kitten.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m thinking.” Another sigh. This time, Sylus chuckled in response.

“How do I move this piece again?” You pointed at the chess piece resembling a horse, tilting your head innocently.

“Kitten…” Oh, now that was a reproachful kitten.

“I forgot! I’m sorry, I can’t help it but chess is so boring.” You paused, thinking. “You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

“Strip chess?” Sylus' eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

You frowned and looked down on yourself. Perhaps you should have thought this through first. Sylus was wearing a light jacket, socks, a shirt, a pair of trousers, and likely underwear. You on the other hand had only two pieces of clothing on you—a silk pyjama set with the night sky and embroidered stars on it, a gift from him the first time you returned to the N109 zone to stay with him for a few days. It had been waiting for you on the king-size bed in the guest room. You almost chuckled. You’d never slept in that bed until this day.

“Having second thoughts?” he mused.

You shook your head. “No. Let’s keep playing. It was my turn, yeah?”

He blinked once as if to say yes, his expression so amused you wanted to sigh yet again. This time, however, you really did put some effort in. If you beat him, he’d be sitting across from you naked. So if you moved your pawn over there…

“I’m done.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean ‘are you sure’? Don’t make me second-guess myself!”

“Very well…” He moved another piece himself and chuckled. “There goes your knight, sweetie.”

“Ugh! What?”

“Come now. You set up the rules yourself.”

You glared at him and aggressively took your pyjama top off to throw it at his face where it landed with a thud before falling into his lap. His amused grin was even more irritating than the complexity of this silly game. He had the reflexes to catch the piece of clothing. He could have. He simply decided not to. Ugh.

“There. Happy?”

You had hopes that sitting in front of him topless would distract him enough to make a mistake but who were you kidding? Even if he did make a mistake, you were nowhere near skilled enough to beat him at this game. Sylus knew that very well. You’d just hoped that you could snatch up enough of his pieces to see him naked again.

But the stern leader of Onychinus was nothing if not composure personified. He didn’t even bat an eyelash at your half-naked form even though you could clearly tell it did not leave him unaffected. His crimson eyes raked over your breasts and your hardening nipples due to the cool temperatures in his bedroom.

A few moments later though, he moved another piece. Sylus chuckled. “Checkmate.”

You gasped, your eyes darting back down to the chessboard. “What? How?”

“You’ve been focused on your queen too much. Now your king has nowhere left to go. See?” He pointed at the two pieces that cornered your white king. How annoying.

“That’s not fair! You tricked me!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You backed me into a corner!”

“You didn’t pay attention.”

“That’s impossible considering I’m topless and you’re still wearing all of your clothes! Was there even a way out?”

“There was.”

“But…but…ugh!”

Sylus raised an eyebrow and gave you a toothless grin. “I’m waiting.” He gestured at your pyjama bottoms.

“For what? The game is over, you’re still wearing all of your clothes and I’m still bored.”

Sylus laughed. “And you lost yet another piece. Don’t be a sore loser, sweetie.”

“I’m…not!” Cursing him under your breath you leaned back and shrugged off your pyjama bottoms without taking your eyes off him. It wasn’t nearly as sexy as you had hoped for it to be but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “This really didn’t go according to plan…”

“Your ‘plans’ never do, kitten.”

You scoffed. “Now what?”

“Now? You let me admire the view and revel in my triumph.”

“You’re impossible.”

Sylus chuckled. “You’ll find I’m very much possible. Come here.”

Now that was something he didn’t need to tell you twice. You crawled over to him fast, ignoring how the remaining chess pieces fell off the board in the process and made yourself comfortable on his lap. Sylus cradled your naked form in his arms as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. Your eyes fell shut almost automatically when he kissed your forehead.

His hands were less innocent. They ghosted over your exposed skin raising goose bumps where they went. It was sheer luck he didn’t tease you for how quickly your legs fell open when one of them travelled lower and lower, over your breasts and your hard nipples, your stomach and eventually…between your legs to where your body wanted him the most.

“Naughty little kitten, have you been this wet for me the whole time?”

You hummed in agreement, rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck.

Testing the waters, his long fingers started rubbing and caressing your outer lips until they slid between them with ease to tease your clit. Probing and exploring, working you up for him until he had you gushing and whimpering in his lap.

“Why…why were we playing chess if…if we could have just done this…the whole time…instead?”

“As much as I enjoy our…intimate moments, I do place value on spending intellectually stimulating time with you too, kitten.”

“Now you’re…making it sound like I’m…sex-crazed…around you…” Your panting increased, an all too familiar knot tightening in your lower belly.

Sylus laughed. “You’re not. Although…I wouldn’t blame you after getting that first taste.”

“You’re impossible,” you breathed out again. The words were followed by a moan. Sylus slid two fingers into your slick warmth, curling them inside you all the while his thumb kept caressing your clit. Shit, you were so close…so close…

“Sylus…”

“What is it, kitten? Tell me…”

“I’m…I will…oh shit…”

“Come for me,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You let go and fell, your orgasm rippling through you like pure electricity. Your wet walls tightened around his long fingers as he helped you ride it out and relish the taste of every last wave of pleasure consuming you. You kept clenching around rhythmically as that feeling of pure bliss slowly ebbed away again, leaving you breathless in his arms.

“Next time…” you choked out of breath, “…we’re playing UNO.”

Sylus chuckled. “As you wish, kitten.”

[eraenaa]

Desperate Requirement (Hogwarts AU)

Slytherin Aemond Targaryen x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: It’s hard being horny at Hogwarts. Luckily, you and Aemond always found a way to relieve your needs.

Warnings: Barely any plot; just smut, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Handjob, P in V sex, Semi-Public Relations, Shower Sex, Very Horny Aemond, Not Proofread

Word Count: 2,660

A/N: I really wanted to do Aemond in Hogwarts because when I first watched HOTD, I was just recovering from my Draco Malfoy phase.

“Aemond,” You called, voice distracted and heavily laced with pleasure as his lips were on your neck and his cold hands were hiking up the hem of your skirt higher and higher. “We… we can’t do this here,” You called, your hands tangling in his hair, not at all making any move to push him away and hinder where your actions were leading. You were pushed up against the door of one of the many broom closets in the castle. Aemond pulled you in there as you were on your way to your next class. His actions made you completely forget about the spell in charms you stayed up to study the night before. “The professor is still in a meeting… they’ll be late. Why not capitalize on the opportunity?” He said against your skin, his hand going to your waist to pull you closer to him.

Your eyes fluttered to a close as lips returned to suck on your sensitive skin, making certain to leave a mark. Already amused, he thought about which way you would once again hide them. Will you cover them with those pastes you smuggled from the muggle world? Or perhaps will you, once again, constantly wear your house scarf even though the weather or setting did not reacquire it. Maybe you’ll surprise him and be bold enough to show all the marks Aemond intended to give you to mark his territory. 

You sighed as his hands tried to unbutton your shirt; when his cold touch grazed the warm skin of your chest, your sensibilities returned. “I—I can’t be intimate with you here,” You whispered and pushed Aemond away. “Why not? Just earlier today, you were straddling me in my bed so I would not leave,” Aemond mused, recalling the scene that initially made him yearn for you so harshly at this hour of the day. “Well, that was in the privacy of your room! Anyone can walk in here and catch us! A student, a house elf— Merlin forbid, a professor!” You said and tried to push Aemond away but he would not have it. “Please, darling, just…” Aemond whispered, and you tried not to grow soft at the slight tone of begging in his voice. “Aemond,” you sighed as he took hold of your wrist and guided it downwards, making you feel the need in him. 

You moaned quietly as you felt his hard length, proving that he needed you so greatly.  You could no longer restrain yourself as you palmed his length through his trousers, hisses coming from his lips as you pleasured him through the fabric of his uniform. Cold hands found their way to your breasts, kneading the mounds and making you bite your lip as wetness gathered at your cunt. “Aemond… oh, Aemond,” You sighed, tilting your head back as one of his cold hands trailed downward and cupped your heat. His fingers rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves as you continued to palm his throbbing length. Your breathing mixed as your stifled moans and sighs echoed through the broom closet, the both of you reaching your peaks even though your skin had not actually touched. Aemond panted harshly as he spilled himself in his uniform, the spot where his seed gathered turning a darker shade. 

“Scourgify,” you took your wand from your robe and uttered the enchantment. Aemond gave you a lazy smile as his sapphire-colored eye was still hazy from his release. You breathed out a sigh as his lips found yours once more, his tongue teasing your bottom lip and seeking entrance, but you could not be distracted anymore. “We have to go,” You pushed him away and turned to open the door, peeking out your head to make certain that no passerby would see the both of you emerging from the utility room. The both of you reached charms class at the nick of time. Your cheeks flushed, and your neck was covered by your wool scarf even though it was unseasonably warm. Aemond sat beside you, demeanor more lax and a satisfied smirk on his thin lips, and his hand resting on your upper thigh throughout the whole of the lesson. Effectively distracting you from the professor’s lecture. 

You watched Aemond through the whole of his quidditch practice. You savored the way how focused he was trying to catch the snitch. Not missing the stunts he did to impress you nor the suggestive looks he’ll give when he passes you. By the end of their practice, your lip was between your teeth, and your legs were tightly crossed to relieve the need that had gathered in the past two hours of watching him fly around the quidditch pitch. 

You quickly made your way down from the pitch minutes before they dismounted their brooms. You sneaked your way into the locker rooms to wait for Aemond. He was the captain of the Slytherin team, and one of the benefits of that was he had his own private shower stall and dressing room to change in. You bit your lip as you stood in the shower stall, hearing the distant sound of footsteps and chatter from the team. Your breathing hitched as Aemond’s voice was drawing closer, him lecturing one of his teammates about the game, clearly aggravated and frustrated. It would seem this endeavor would serve him beneficially. You bit your cheeks as Aemond’s words died on his tongue as he saw you standing stark naked in his shower stall, waiting for him. 

He waved off his teammate and did not waste a second before wrapping his arms around you and placing his lips against yours. Your heart stuttered as you realized his tense and rugged figure turned putty in your arms, the frustrations you felt oozing from him miraculously disappearing. You sighed as you two were enveloped in the hot water, your lips never parting even though it was a bit of a struggle to breathe. You gasped in shock as Aemond hoisted you on his waist, pushing you against the tiled wall and aligning his length in your entrance. “You wouldn’t let me fuck you in the privacy of the closet, but you would happily let me have my way with you here? In the men’s bathroom, with my teammates just in the distance? How lewd had you become?” Aemond mused as you very slowly sank down on his cock, him making sure to catch every little reaction you would make as your cunt was once again filled by him. 

You whimpered and moaned as you were fully filled by him, Aemond hissing as the tip of his cock rested perfectly in the spongey spot of your cunt. The spot that made your eyes roll back in your head and your back arch. “You have to be quiet, my darling… wouldn’t want to be caught now, would you?” Aemond hummed, his hands gripping your bottom, and his hips thrust to meet yours, your moans spewing quietly into the side of his neck as you buried your face there. “Aemond, what’s taking you so long?” His brother Aegon screamed from the locker room. “Give me a minute!” Aemond yelled but his tone was laced with concentration that made his other teammates suspicious. “Is he having a fucking wank?” You heard one of his teammates ask, and Aemond buried his cock deep inside, his lips continuing his torment on the side of your neck. 

“Aemond… oh, I’m… fuck, I’m coming,” You moaned, dazed by the pleasure he gave. Aemond bit his lip as he moved one of his hands to cover your mouth, already knowing that you were ready to scream when you reached your peak. It truly was flattering for him to hear you scream out in pleasure; his name would always be uttered as you came, but he could not let the two of you be found in such a state. You panted against his hand, dazed eyes watching him tilt his head back as he came deep inside you, quiet groans leaving his lips. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” Aemond sighed and kissed your lips, then your cheeks, as you slowly unwrapped your legs around his waist. The two of you were sweaty from the endeavor, but luckily, the shower was just there. 

“Stop it.” You gritted lowly as Aemond’s hand trailed upward your skirt. You were attending your Defense against the Dark Arts class, but Aemond was determined to distract you from the important lesson. “I need you,” he whispered in your ear as the professor was turned away from the class; you quietly whimpered as he nipped your ear after he whispered the words. “Pay attention; the O.W.Ls are near.” You whispered even though his small action caused you to need as well. Aemond grunted and returned his attention to the lecture, but now you, too, were distracted as well, need pooling between your legs as his hand never left your thigh, only inching higher and higher. 

You bit your lip and raised your hand, excusing yourself to go to the lavatory. “Meet me in the second-floor prefect’s washroom,” You whispered to Aemond after, a sly smirk adorning his lips as you left. You waited impatiently for Aemond to appear, and when he did, you grabbed him by the necktie to smash your lips together. “Hurry, they’ll get suspicious,” You muttered as you two were squished together in a stall. Your fingers tried to undo his trousers, but you frowned as he nudged your hands away, and he instead sank to his knees. “Aemond, what ar—“ You could not finish your thought as he hiked up your skirt and pushed your undergarments to the side so his lips could meet your cunt. 

Moans quickly spewed from your lips, no matter how hard you tried to stifle them. You looked down to see Aemond grinning up at you, his fingers pushing themselves into you. “So fucking wet… you could never resist me, now can you, my darling?” He hummed, then sucked on your bundle of nerves, making you moan louder. “Aemond!” You cried as he curled his fingers, the sound of your wetness and moans echoing through the empty lavatory. “Fuck, you’re so good…” You uttered as you felt your core tighten with the same need for release. His name once again spewed from your lips as you came on lips. You hummed in satisfaction as his lips met yours, tasting your essence on his tongue. 

“You look gorgeous, my darling,” Aemond smiled as he spun you around. The great hall was decorated for the occasion. The Yule Ball was probably your favorite event at Hogwarts. “You look quite handsome yourself,” You smiled as you gazed up at him. You rested your head on his shoulder as you two swayed to the slow tune of the dance, his hand firmly on your waist. You sighed in contentment as you were in the arms of the boy you had loved since your first day in Hogwarts. “Do you want to get out of here?” You asked quietly as the dance floor became more crowded. Aemond was quick to agree and took hold of your hand to escort you out of the great hall, finding an empty carriage so the two of you could enjoy each other’s company in privacy. 

Your lips danced their familiar dance as Aemond’s hold on your waist was threading upwards and nearing the valley of your breast. Your hands moved to rest upon his thigh, but you gasped in shock and embarrassment as the carriage door flew open, a professor catching the both of you. “Ten points each will be deducted from your house. Now go back to the hall,” they sternly said, and you and Aemond hurriedly disembarked the carriage, your cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. 

You returned to the castle, turning to Aemond wide-eyed as he tried his hardest to stifle his laughs. “Don’t laugh! That was mortifying!” You said, but Aemond shook his head and cupped your heated cheeks. “You looked so adorable,” He laughed and gave your lips a kiss. You breathed in deeply as your heart stuttered at the way he looked at you with adoration. “Where do we go now? The rooms are locked, even our dorms,” You sighed as you two stood in an empty hallway. “Here?” Aemond suggested, but you scrunched up your brows at his ludicrous suggestion. You chewed on your cheeks as the need for Aemond was evermore present. “The astronomy tower?” He asked as you rested your head on his chest, your gaze downward, seeing that he, too, needed you badly. “No, it’s too cold,” You sighed and his arms wrapped around your frame. 

All of a sudden, you hear the sound of light debris falling to the ground. Aemond frowned and took out his wand, preparing for an attack. Your brows furrowed as the empty wall in the hallway started to transform. The blank bricks reveal chiseled carvings and, ultimately, a door opened for the both of you. Your lips gaped, and you turned to Aemond, “Did… did we just summon the room of requirement?” You asked in disbelief. Aemond pulled you into the summoned room that housed a bed and fireplace. You were still in shock that you two had found the room that you thought was a hoax, but shock could not be properly comprehended as his lips were on yours again. Your bodies trailed over to the bed as your articles of clothing were tossed to the floor. You sat by the edge of the bed, gazing up at Aemond whose lips were parted as your hand was wrapped around his length. 

You hear him his as your lips wrap around the tip of his length, your eyes still locked on his as you take in his length deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, darling, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock,” Aemond hummed and cupped your cheek, which was hollowed as you sucked his length. You gagged as the tip of him hit the back of your throat, his loudly groaning at the sensation. You continued on, tears spilling at the side of your eyes, “Such a good girl taking my cock,” Aemond praised as he abruptly pulled out of your cock. He, without warning, turned you around and let your stomach hit the soft mattress, your bum in the air as he squeezed them harshly. 

You let out a loud moan as he plunged his length deep inside you, the wetness you had gathered making lewd noises that accompanied your moans and the crackling fire. “You like that? You like it when I fuck you from behind, don’t you, my darling?” Aemond grunted, his hands gathering your hair and lightly pulling it. The pain adds to your pleasure, and it translates to your walls clenching tightly around him. You could only moan as Aemond’s cold hand reached downwards, and his slender fingers started to draw circles upon your nubbin, your moans growing louder. Begging him for release as your knees dug into the soft, feathered bed and your hands fisted the sheets. 

Aemond felt his release coming as well. He momentarily stopped his thrust to turn you around, wanting to see your pretty face as you came undone and as he filled your cunt with his seed. You feel his weight atop you and his lips against yours. “Aemond… Aemond!” You cried as you came hard on his cock. Your lips moved to his shoulders, and your teeth bit down on his flesh, making him groan in pained pleasure, urging him to spill himself inside you a bit earlier than he had wished. 

Aemond collapsed atop your bare body, sweaty limbs intertwined. “Aemond?” You called, trying to catch your breath. “Yes, my darling?” He asked, “I still need you,” You said and heard him chuckle, moving to kiss your lips and moved to oblige your needs once more. 

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hey! I love your work and got into it in the beginning of highschool :) I was wondering if you have time to write about two people (MLM) who have been friends for a few years but always had a little tension? Like a taller boy teases a shorter fiery boy trope. Then wall pinning happens lol. Think it would be interesting if the taller boy was the more dominant and possessive one even if he's the chiller more reserved one. I imagine they're both drunk too lmao.

"You know, one of these days," Aiden said, "I'm going to punch you in the face if you don't shut your mouth."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you have to be able to reach first?"

"I'm not that short!"

"I suppose I could get you a box," Jack mused, as they walked home.

"I don't need a box to reach your face!"

"Maybe a step ladder."

"I swear to god-"

"-You don't get vertigo, do you? It would be really embarrassing for you if you tried to punch me in the face and then immediately passed out because you weren't used to the altitude-"

Aiden shoved him, heat burning in his cheeks despite the chill of upcoming winter and the warming buzz of a couple beers. It just made Jack laugh softly in that aggravating gorgeous way of his, so Aiden shoved him again, harder, up against the wall.

He had wild notions of proving something - strength, perhaps, as he held Jack pinned up against the brick work - only to find himself caught off guard as he looked up Jack's expression. The lazy grin was there, sure, but something else too. His eyes simmering in the moonlight.

Jack's grin widened a notch. Teasing. Taunting, in a way he never seemed to do with anyone else.

"That's my chest, Aiden, that you have your hands on," he said in an oh so helpful tone of voice. "In the world of tall people who can actually reach the top shelf-"

Aiden kissed him.

It did shut Jack up, so there was that, and though he did admittedly have to go up on his toes he could definitely reach Jack's oh so cool stupid handsome face. Ha! His grip tightened on the front of Jack's shirt, trying to drag him down, closer, a soft sound escaping him as Jack kissed him back.

...Jack kissed him back. He was kissing Jack.

Aiden pulled back, panting, eyes wide.

Jack's head tilted, studying him. The simmering intent thing had entirely taken over the lazy grin.

Aiden swallowed, mouth abruptly dry. Scorched. A hundred small light bulbs pinged in his brain. Jack smiled, then.

Oh so easily, as if he'd merely been letting Aiden play at pinning him the whole time, Jack switched their positions. Aiden's breath caught. He was not that short, but he was rather aware of the way that Jack's body pressed flush against his own, bracketing him in, of the way he had to tilt his head back a fraction to hold Jack's gaze. Of how warm Jack was compared to the cool wall behind him.

"Interesting punching technique," Jack said. "Do you wanna try again?"

"Prick." Adrian craned up eagerly to kiss him again and...Jack rocked just out of reach. Teasing. Adrian glared at him, cheeks flushed further. He tugged at his wrists in Jack's hold, fully prepared to drag him down by force if necessary, but found no give.

Jack had him well and truly pinned.

Adrian's stomach swooped pleasantly.

Jack laughed again. Amused, fond, and just a little bit more velvet than before.

"You're so annoying," Adrian said.

"Mm. Is that the look on your face right now? Annoyed?"

"What would you call it?"

"Turned on."

The simple response made Aiden's brain blank. Mostly because it was true. Mostly because he wasn't supposed to just go and say that, in his oh so composed Jack voice, and make everything in Aiden squirm delicious and entirely too exposed.

The lazy grin returned. "I could come down a bit," Jack said. "If you asked nicely."

"I'm not that short!"

"Then kiss me."

Aiden managed to get their lips to brush that time, close enough for Jack to nip his mouth gently. It wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough.

"I hate you," Aiden huffed.

"I'm getting that."

"You really should shut up."

"If only someone was tall enough to kiss me, I would."

Aiden glared at him again. "Just you wait until we're in bed. Then you won't be vertically cheating!"

"Vertically cheating, huh?"

"It's what it's called when people are like you."

"I see. But when we're in bed together, as you suggest, you're totally not going to end up writhing beneath me?"

Well wasn't that a mental image.

"Please just bloody kiss me already!"

Jack leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"Oh, come on." Aiden tried to sound grumpy, livid, instead of utterly delighted. He didn't think it worked.

"Ask nicely," Jack sing-songed.

"You want to kiss me too just as badly, I can see it on your face."

"Yes. But I can kiss you all I like." Jack proved the point by leaning down, pressing a succession of kisses to Aiden's temple, his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He dodged with uncanny, teasing swiftness when Aiden tried to capture his mouth. "See."

"Please," Aiden said, after a beat, "kiss me."

And, oh so obligingly, Jack did.

They hurried the rest of the way home after that.

[killerlookz]

hiiiii i adore your writing soooo sooo much!! i was literally dancing in my room to joosts music and i thought of a new fic idea:3 can you write something where Joost comes back home and the reader is dancing to his songs in their apartment, the reader doesnt notice him at first, completely in the moment and when they do, they get all embarrassed and its all fluff and cute??(((:

awww this is so cute <33 ty sm anon!!!

Dance With Me? | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, no warnings rlly! just fluff :-) the song in question for this fic is Joost Klein 2 btw! this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 1.2k(just a wee little blurb!)

Sundays had always been your least favorite day of the week, a bleak reminder that the hours of the weekend were waning and you'd have to return to the monotony of the weekdays. Perhaps the worst part of Sundays was that they were your designated cleaning day, you would much prefer spending your last day free from work lazing on the couch or curled up in bed, but instead, once again you found yourself bouncing around your apartment straightening up whatever cleaning you had left unfinished throughout the week.

The silence of your empty apartment had been getting to you, bored out of your mind as you stood on a chair to dust off a bookshelf. The only thing you figured that would this slightly more tolerable was music at least the apartment wouldn't be so damn quiet.

You hop down from the chair, scurrying into the living room to turn on your speakers. It wasn't long until music was flowing into the apartment, loud, and probably obnoxious to the neighbors, but it hadn't been late enough to warrant a noise complaint- so they would just have to deal with it for now.

Among the many plusses of having a musician for a boyfriend, you had to admit being in possession of a stellar stereo system was definitely one of them. You had been able to hear the music just as perfectly as you pranced back into your bedroom, not exactly eager to get back to cleaning.

Though it would seem not much cleaning would get done after that point, more focused on the music than any of the tasks you had at hand.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" You sang along with the lyrics that boomed over the speaker. Another plus of having a musician boyfriend was that he was a damn good musician., "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!"

You had found yourself jumping around to the music, a smile pressed onto your face as you swayed your head back and forth in time to the beat.

Still jumping, your arms in the air you start to spin around when suddenly the breath is knocked out of you at the sight of a figure in the doorway to your bedroom. Your body grows rigid, stopping dead in your tracks as your mind races to the worst-case scenario.

Luckily it hadn't exactly been the worst-case scenario, as your eyes focused and you were able to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Why'd you stop?" He asks, clearly amused, "I was enjoying your performance. I think you might put me out of a job."

"Joost!" Your voice is sharp like you're scolding him for being in his own home. Your eyes widen at the shock, not having expected him to be home, much less having even heard him walk through the door, "I thought you said you'd be running errands all day."

Embarrassment begins to grow on your face, your eyes refusing to meet Joost's, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as your body grows hot.

"I've actually been gone awhile," He chuckles, "I finished my errands."

"Hmm," You hum, looking down at your feet, "Time flies." You mumble.

"It does when you're having fun, which you looked to be having." Joost muses, an eyebrow-raising behind the thick rims of his glasses.

"Cleaning was getting boring," You shrug, still refusing to make eye contact out of sheer embarrassment.

Joost can clearly sense your unease as his smile still rests on his face, beginning to bob his head up and down, slowly walking towards you with some grove in his step,

"Maar ik blijf Joost en ik bleef in de derde zitten," Joost lowly sings along to his own voice over the speaker, his movements becoming livelier as he gets closer to you, "Soms haat ik kittens en haat ik ook science-fiction."

He grabs your hands, as to ask you to dance with him, but you're reluctant, only holding his hands in front of him as he dances on his own continuing to sing along to his own song.

"C'mon," He urges, "Dance with me?" An exaggerated pout rests on his lips as he stares down at you with big, blue, puppy-dog eyes. You can't exactly resist that look, slowly stepping back and forth to appease his request.

He pulls at your arms as he jumps up and down to the music, just about forcing you to move with more excitement, your embarrassment quickly subsiding as Joost dances in a manner similar to how you had been just moments prior.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" Eventually, the two of you are singing, bouncing up and down in sync with each other and you can't believe you had ever been embarrassed in front of Joost in the first place. It had seemed so trivial now that the two of you danced together, after four years together you were sure you had seen each other in much more embarrassing situations, you knew better, that he would never pass any judgment on you, "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!" You practically yell to each other, oversized grins burned into both of your faces.

The song soon fades out, allowing for a song that wasn't Joost's to start playing.

"You've got some good music taste," Joost teases, the two of your movements dying down.

"Meh," You shrug, "Joost is kind of mid, I think Ski Aggu is better,"

Joost clicks his tongue, shaking his head in joking disapproval,

"You're lucky you're cute." A kiss is pressed against your forehead. The small gesture leaves you with butterflies in your stomach, despite the length of time the pair of you had been together, every touch from him seemed to feel like you were falling in love for the first time all over again.

"You get much cleaning done?" He pulls back

You look around the bedroom, the bed still unmade, clothes strewn upon your dresser, various items scattered around your desk. You feel yourself becoming stressed again at the task ahead of you.

"Not quite." You respond sheepishly, you sigh, "I should probably-"

"It can wait, relax, liefje," Joost cuts you off, "I think we should continue our little dance party."

"Easy for you to say when you've gotten everything you need to get done today,"

"Hmm," Joost puckers his lips, twisting his face into an expression that makes it obvious he's thinking, "How about..." He trails off for a moment, inching closer to you, "You stay here and dance with me, and I'll clean the whole apartment while you're at work tomorrow."

It's an easy proposition to accept, not having to clean? Fine by you.

"Deal?" He asks, smiling down at you.

"Deal," You quickly nod.

"Eh," he holds up a finger, "We need to seal the deal."

You raise your eyebrows up at him, waiting for what he's going to say next,

"You gotta give me a kiss to seal our deal,"

You giggle, standing up on your tip toes, placing both of your hands on Joost's shoulders as you reach up to press your lips to his.

He's quick to kiss you back, resting his hands on your waist as he engages you in a soft, passionate kiss.

"Okay," He nods, "Now it's a deal."

[dreamlandcreations]

Imagine Halbrand realising that the light he was drawn to in Galadriel is actually yours...

Imagine Halbrand realising that the light he was drawn to in Galadriel is actually yours...

He couldn't wrap his mind around it. He perceived you to be nothing different than any ordinary elf. No, not even that, he thought your human half left you even weaker. He couldn't be more wrong.

The scene kept haunting him even hours later. A glimpse at your true form, your true strength that you somehow kept hidden behind your mortal blood's influence... It was still hard to believe what he perceived of Galadriel was just a fragment, an echo of your true light.

His yearning for it more intense than anything he ever felt, yet your words to the elf in the next cell kept knocking him back down to earth.

The blissfully calm exterior you presented for the days he had known you had shattered when Galadriel was trying to justify her actions by her need for vengeance and she tried to rope you into her mess with reminding you of your shared loss in the worst way possible.

"Do you not care that the evil who took them from us is still out there?" she accused, going on about listing her brothers' bravery to go to fight evil and urging you to do the same.

Your reaction was startlingly violent. Grabbing her neck through the bars, you practically hissed through your teeth the words that condemned your kin to her current hollow state.

"I am tired of you using them as an excuse to justify your bloodthirst. If you ever again dare to imply that this selfish insanity is for them, tainting their name, their memory, and everything they stood for, then I might put you out of your misery myself." Halbrand saw you squeeze the elf's throat for good measure before you delivered your sentence to his fellow sinner.

"If you wish to wallow in this darkness, I will not hold you back anymore." As you said these words, he could see the light leaving Galadriel and returning to you, the bond he couldn't sense before cut by you, revealing a darkness not only in her but deep down in your human heart as well before he had seen your soul glow unlike any other elf's he ever met.

His need for you was edging on obsession but your parting words left him with equal amount of hope and dread as he realised how similar his and the elf's trouble is. Clearly thinking about what to do and with a slightly regretful expression you left the elf a little glimpse of light after all.

"Perhaps it is my fault," you mused out loud. "I was holding you up for too long and you forgot how to walk on your own." You paused with a heavy sigh. "What I know for certain now that if you do not want to get up from the floor where you are wasting away, then I cannot help." Another pause, a longer one as you contemplated something before gently adding on your offer. "You have to find your strength to stand on your own but if you do, and you want my help then, I promise, I will not let you fall."

Those words were like knives to his heart. The eternal loneliness he felt amplified to an unbearable degree but there was also a spark of hope, that perhaps you would offer the same help to him if he asked for it...

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing(s): Rhysand x Reader, Cassian x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Warnings: poly relationship, smut, sharing is caring, poly mates, fff what i would give to have the bat boys as my mates, voyeurism, masturbation, bratty reader, disobeying rhys and the gang, punishment, overstimulation

Words: 1761

Summary: One major flaw of your's: You were cocky of not just your own strengths, but also the guard dogs at your beck and call. Your three mates.

You knew you were in deep shit the moment you nailed the coffin into your decision.

Rhysand forbade you from acting out on your own during this reconnaissance. Normally he wouldn't have said anything; you were good at whatever you put your mind to and you knew how to behave yourself unlike Cassian who was known to blow his cover from time to time. You and Azriel made an excellent spy pair. Both levelheaded and calculating, not to mention very deadly. Lacking the useful shadows that were unique to Azriel, that didn't stop you from being just as intimidating.

Or perhaps reckless.

That was one major flaw of your's. You were cocky of not just your strengths, but also the guard dogs at your beck and call. Your three mates. Yes, THREE.

A fae would be lucky to find their soulmate in their lifetime. Many never felt that electrifying spark of your invisible bond being snapped into place. And you'd felt it three times. A phenomenon that had never been witnessed before in all of fae history. It caused Rhysand to delve deep into the House of Wind's library to look up whatever he could about fae soulmates. He even went so far as to ask Helion, whom he had a somewhat friendly relationship with, if he could scrounge up any information on his end. The Day Court high lord upon hearing of this immediately became highly interested.

Of course you would feel indestructible. On top of the world even. In your pocket you possessed a High Lord, a general and a spymaster. You yourself were known as the Mistress of Poison.

None of that would save you from disobeying Rhysand's orders though. Sometimes you forgot that you HAD to obey him. Even if the four of you stood together as equals, there was still a power dynamic when regarding Rhysand. Azriel would not be covering for you this time.

"It was the perfect opportunity Rhys!" Trying to argue your case once more, Rhysand merely holds a hand up to quiet you. You pout, biting down on your lower lip to prevent anymore words from slipping out. Nervously you glance to either side of you where Cassian and Azriel stood.

Az's blue eyes catch you in the corner, he stiffly shakes his head. Don't argue, love.

Even Cassian's voice chimes in You've really done it this time.

He wasn't exaggerating. Rhys' pretty violet eyes were hardened. "You could have gotten hurt." More importantly, you blocked me from your thoughts. Like you think I wouldn't know. "You disobeyed me. You could have even blown Azriel's position."

Unlikely. . . Azriel half muses but returns his face to a neutral expression when he caught Rhysand's gaze sharply slice into him.

Utterly foolish, you utter "But I didn't get hurt. And I didn't blow Azriel's cover." The pressure of his power thickens the air around you. "I succeeded in killing them, didn't I? Succeeded in what we were sent out to do."

Cauldron, zip your beautiful mouth. Mentally hisses Cassian. From the corner of your eye you catch a twitch of his wings.

You were digging your own grave yet you couldn't stay silent. Rhys' doubt of your capability wounded you.

Rhys sighs deeply through his nose, the rigidness of his broad shoulders reduces when he reads your thoughts. "That's not the issue here."

"You don't think I can take care of myself? That I can't be trusted like Cassian and Azriel?"

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Rhysand's deep black hair shifts as he shakes his head. "Perhaps this is my fault. You think you don't have to listen to me because you're my mate. That you don't have to listen to any of us."

From either side, you suddenly feel hands clamp down on your wrists. Rounded eyes gawk at Cassian before swiveling to Azriel. You give your wrists an experimental tug to test your restraints. Fingers like iron manacles.

"You're spoiled."

Brat.

The click of his boots hammer into your chest each step he took.

"I can't let this insubordination continue. I know you can take care of yourself. If you had discussed this with us, we would not be in the situation we're in now."

You didn't even tell Az where you'd rushed off to. And you didn't care about what you would be putting him through with your vanishing act.

Finally Rhysand stands in front of you. His entire hand was able to grab your entire jaw. "I'm proud that you succeeded. But I'm going to have to remedy your arrogance."

You try to wrench your face out of his grasp, in response Rhysand tightens his hold. He's not looking at you, addressing the other two. "Take her to my room. I'll be there in a moment. Have her ready."

A thrilling surge shoots through your core, alongside terror that you would be at their complete mercy. Unable to touch and coax them. All of you knew you wouldn't apologize for what you did. This wasn't the first time you'd callously acted on your own. To your credit, it had been quite some time since you'd last disobeyed Rhys.

"Really should have kept your mouth shut." Cassian barks out a laugh as he and Azriel haul you off.

Azriel shakes his head but even he has a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth. "Maybe it's you who needs to shut your mouth Cass. She may be at our mercy, but I doubt that exempts you from having your dick bitten."

He rolls his eyes. "She would never! Love my cock too much, don't you?"

In reply you snap your jaws at him before turning your attention to Az. "You know I didn't mean anything bad by what I did. I know I should have taken your feelings into consideration-"

"But you didn't. Don't think you can sweeten me up with a belated apology." Hazel eyes narrow at you. He would be offering no help to you. "Be silent and accept your punishment.

The cover over your eyes disorients you even more. Still you were able to distinguish whose cock was shoved into your mouth and whose teeth were sweetly nibbling on your clit causing you to cry out and beg for mercy.

You'd already orgasmed twice and your poor clit was overstimulated to the point where pleasure bordered pain.

You try to yank your hands free from Rhys' magic that bound you. His heavy gaze weighing you down. You didn't require sight, of course Rhysand would be watching. Probably fisting his own thick cock that was beading with precum. He wouldn't waste his seed on masturbating though.

"Alright. Have her present." Rhys voice sounds lazy as he commands his general and spymaster to stop.

Suddenly your body is pulled this way and that until your face is pressed against a pillow, ass positioned high up. Rough hands spread your legs so your already messy cunt is on display for the High Lord of the Night Court.

There's a sharp smack to your ass that has you yelping.

Another.

And another.

Then obtrusive fingers slide right into your exhausted pussy. You'd already taken Cassian and Azriel. Twice.

A hand, most likely Az's, strokes your sweat soaked hair.

"We're a team, are we not?" Rhysand's harsh tone clips through your pants.

"Y-Yes." At that point you'd allow all three of them to try and shove their dicks inside of your cunt if it meant you could get water and some rest. "M'sorry. . ."

"We talk things out together." He removes his fingers and you could feel the spongy tip of his cock prod at you. "None of us make a move until all of us agree. Was that not the plan? Don't apologize just to me."

"M'sorry Cass. . . S-Sorry Az. . ." You're barely able to catch your breath when you feel Rhysand breach your folds. Your nails cling desperately to the sheets under you.

Cassian laughs. "I know you are, sweetheart. I forgive you."

Azriel's scarred digits are still weaving through your hair as he hums. "Just remember next time. Don't let it happen again."

"Though I dare say she likes being punished." Darkly laughs Cassian when Rhysand finally snaps his hips forward to sheathe himself inside of you.

He stretches your walls to their limit in a ferocious rhythm that has you unattractively squealing. Rhysand's grip on your waist is firm as he keeps you in position with the help of your other two mates. You can't help the drool that dribbles out of the corner of your mouth. Especially when his balls keep tapping against your clit.

Through his own groans of pleasure at the absolute death grip your pussy had on his shaft, Rhysand manages to pull himself together to ask "What do you guys think, should I make her cum again?"

"N... N. . . No!" You helplessly protest from under him.

They just laugh.

"Never heard you reject an orgasm before." Azriel cheekily comments.

Rhysand must have thought it a good idea since you felt another white hot jolt when the pad of his finger lands on your poor clit that throbbed with its own heartbeat. "Our High Lady can take one more."

You thought you'd ascended to another plane of existence.

Your boys spent the next two hours bathing you from the mess they'd made of your body.

With feather light touches, Azriel gently ran a soft towel over your sensitive skin.

Sitting between Rhysand's legs, your High Lord washed your hair. When he came across a knot, Rhysand coaxed it free without the harsh tugging they'd previously been doing with it. He'd asked you to recount to him how you'd killed the target. Now that the hard feelings were over, your boys wanted to hear about your success.

After bathing, Cassian presents you with a pre-warmed towel that engulfed your whole being.

Once in bed, your eyes grew warm. "I am sorry. Really. We are a team. I shouldn't have acted on my own."

Rhysand leans down to brush his lips along the bridge of your nose before kissing you. "You don't have to apologize anymore."

Cassian, being your favorite teddy bear, slithers under the sheets with you and pulls you to his expansive chest. He insisted on being first in the cuddling duties. Rhysand and Azriel unfortunately had to finish their own respective duties. But the general was all your's for the rest of the night.

He kisses the crown of your head. "Rest sweetling."

Azriel kisses your cheek before standing tall. "Have sweet dreams."

[cosmicdahlias]

What You Deserve

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

read part 2 here!

Ford and you both like each other, but he’s too afraid to go for it so Bill does him a favor.

warnings: HEAVY NONCON, smut, possession

i really went wild on this one i hope y’all enjoy

Ford has been worrying you lately. His sleep schedule is erratic, he barely eats, and it seems like he’s always talking to someone that isn’t there. But there is someone, you’ve come to know him as Bill.

In Ford’s words Bill is his muse, his inspiration. You hadn’t questioned it at first, it kept him so driven. But now things were different, Ford wasn’t quite the same as when you first met him.

You’ve never spoken directly to Bill, only when he speaks through Ford via possession. You never let Ford know but it terrifies you to see Ford so unlike himself. He turns wild, dangerous, unpredictable. Sometimes disappearing for days at a time and returning with no recollection of what transpired. One time coming back sporting a tattoo that he had no memory of getting, but a tattoo was the least of your worries.

You’ve started to hate Bill for what he’s done to your partner. You fear the day that you turn on the news and see that the local mysterious scientist in the woods has turned up dead.

You secretly love him too. He captivated you, perhaps that’s why you cared so much. If he was just your coworker it wouldn’t keep you up as often as it did. You wanted to take him away from all of this, to just kiss him and tell him that there was more to life than being Bill’s puppet.

These thoughts consumed your mind as you sat at your desk going over your research notes. You were so in your head that you didn’t sense the looming presence behind you.

A hand grasped your shoulder, you jumped nearly a foot out of your chair. It was Ford.

“JESUS Christ, Ford. A little warning next time?” You gasped.

He released his hand. “Oh dear I’m sorry I hadn’t realized I’d scare you like that, you just looked so wrapped up in your own thoughts. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You huffed. “Yeah, it’s just… I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Oh? Perhaps I can take your mind off things.”

“How so?” You asked.

“Well for starters sweetheart I can rip off those clothes.” He cooed.

“What?” You stammered.

“You heard me.”

You blushed, this was so unlike him. “Ford are you feeling okay?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never felt more like myself.”

It was then you noticed his eyes, the yellow tint and catlike pupils. Your heart sank. Bill.

“I know it’s you Bill. What do you want?” You spat through gritted teeth.

“I’m just doing old sixer here a favor. I’ve seen inside his mind and I know what he thinks about you. Thing is, he’s too damn shy to just go for it. So I figured, why not do it for him?”

You felt like a rock just sank to the pit of your stomach, you knew what that meant. Your thoughts quickly screamed at you to defend yourself. You knew you had a small knife in the drawer of your desk, but could you grab it before Ford, rather, Bill reached you?

You decided to take the risk, you shot up and darted your hand to the drawer, pulling it open. You quickly grabbed the knife and held it out in front of you. Your hands trembled.

Bill laughed coldly “That’s cute of you, but here’s the thing, you try hurting me and you’re just gonna kill Fordsy. And we wouldn’t want that now would we?”

Before you could say anything Ford descended on you, coming up behind you his hands gripping your wrists and wrestling the knife out of your grasp.

“Now listen to me toots, we’re gonna have some fun on behalf of my good old pal here. You can struggle all you want, but I think you and I both know he’s a lot bigger and stronger than you.” He said, running the knife against your throat.

You felt his teeth sink into your neck, rough kisses left at every bite mark, his hands traveling up and down your body. He hooked the knife underneath your clothes and began to tear away at the fabric, leaving your top half exposed.

You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, but you knew it would be in vain. Where would you run? To whom would you scream or cry to? You were all alone in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a man possessed by a twisted demon.

The knife slowly cut away at your skirt, next your bra and panties. Ford kept a hand on your waist, the other still holding a knife to your throat.

“Now,” he said, his fingers massaging your breasts “I’m going to have my way with you.” His voice sent a cold chill down your spine.

In one quick motion Ford spun you around and forced you to the floor, hands holding down your wrists.

“But first, I think Ford deserves a good look at my work, don’t you?”

As you looked up at Ford you saw his eyes return to their normal whites and rounded pupils. He looked down at you, confused, then the horror set in.

“Y/n, what are you- oh god no, Bill what have you done?”

Before he could even remove his hands from your wrists his head snapped back violently, when he returned his gaze to you it was with the same terrifying look, Bill had retaken control.

Keeping a hand on your wrist he began to wrestle with his belt.

“I’ll never understand you humans and your complicated clothing.”

He slipped his pants low enough to reveal his cock, which was dripping with precum. You tried hard to fight against him but your efforts were in vain, Bill was right, Ford was stronger.

Sharply and violently he slid himself into you all the way to the base. You screamed from the pain and Ford let out a loud groan. He began to thrust hard and fast, growling and breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.

“Ah fuck, now I see why sixer wanted this so bad.” He hissed.

You felt your will begin to fade, you were stuck like this, there was nothing you could do, no one was coming to save you.

“I think Ford should feel this too, I never know if he feels anything I’m doing.”

His eyes reverted again, they widened.

“No no no, dear god, make it stop. I’m so sorry, y/n.”

Ford tried to fight it, he struggled to get himself off of you but Bill began to take hold again.

“Fordsy might be sorry, but I’m not. Quite frankly I always feel like you’re getting in the way of things, perhaps this will teach you to stay away.”

He resumed his brutal pace, the loud slapping echoing through the lab accompanied by his grunts and your whimpers. All you could see was his yellow eyes and wicked smile. This was pure hell, you wanted Ford, but not like this, never like this.

He could feel himself getting close, he grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your calves.

“Hahhh, hahhhh. I’m going to… make you regret ever agreeing to work with Ford. You’re gonna… keep your distance. You hear me?”

Tears began to stream down your face, you started to hope that Bill would just kill you after he was done.

Ford was fucking you at a punishing speed, as he forced a hand to your throat Bill released him right as he began to cum. Ford let out a deafening moan and his whole body shook. Everything went white for a few seconds, when his vision returned he was greeted with a frightening visual beneath him.

Ford let you go and backed up against the wall, he had to focus all of his attention on not vomiting.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

All you could do was lay on the floor, nothing felt real. Ford took off his trench coat and wrapped you in it. Tears began to fall down his face.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I never meant to hurt you.”

~~~

click here to go to part 2!

[elizabethsproctor]

then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” i said, “art sure no craven,"

chapter ii

Davos Blackwood x Bracken OC Davos is the eldest son of Lord Samwell of House Blackwood and the scourge of all the knights and squires of House Bracken. Though he thinks himself a knight and concerned with duty and honor, he spends most of his free time with his own squires, tormenting all the Brackens that they happen upon. Celeste Feathers is the bastard daughter born of Amos Bracken and a Summer Isle whore. At the chance of a higher dowry for her daughter, the baby was sent to live with her father in the wet and windy Riverlands until a husband was chosen for her. Though the two had a chance encounter as children, they have only heard stories about each other in the meantime until one fateful day near the boundary line in the forest. wc: 7.4k/11.5k chapter: 2/?

tw: nsfw (sex!), mentions of sa

It took Celeste the night, and the next night, day, and day after that to get her thoughts clear. She could still feel Davos's body on hers, and she wondered if anyone could see the scourge of her betrayal on her face, on her wrists where he had grabbed her. She had considered that, by day two, everything coercing her thoughts into horrible actions was fueled by lust but on the day that she was meant to meet him, she started to consider that she really wanted to see him. And he her. He had agreed, and she had made no promise of what would happen, but she was excited. Celeste was determined that she would stand her ground and say a million and one things that the boy would have no rebuttal to, or maybe they would talk about history or... perhaps he wouldn't even show. She shook her head. That wasn't an option.

She was overwhelmed with the thought that he was across the river, waiting for her and thinking of her. Her annoying and conceited enemy, likely stroking himself to her insults. It was enough to giggle about, but she maintained her composure. Celeste knew it was wrong for multiple reasons: she wasn't meant to venture from the castle by herself nor was she meant to fraternize at all unless her maidenhood be called into question. Especially not with a Blackwood. But he had been oddly gentle with her... as if she was someone that he could take care of. 

Celeste had always thought that the two houses could find their way out of war, and she surmised that maybe, in his youthful pliability, she could get Davos to hear her side. 

Though she had set the time aside to think, her thoughts had not settled on one single opinion. She had promised to meet him however, and her word was her bond. 

After supper on the second night, Celeste trekked into the forest, trying to find the same spot that she had met Davos before. It was around a fifteen minute walk, and she was sure that she had overshot it before she caught a glimpse of the boy's red cloak. Scoping the scene before she let a branch crunch beneath her weight, she approached him silently, her hand behind her back. 

"I brought you a gift. A peace offering."

Davos had spent the past two nights eagerly anticipating her arrival. He had tried to occupy himself with training, drinking and whoring to pass the time, but every hour of the night, his mind would flit back to the image of her, pressed up against the tree, her body writhing against his. 

When she finally crept out of the woods, he felt his heart begin to thump faster in his chest. But, he hid his excitement behind a cocky grin as he watched her approach.

"A gift, eh?" He mused, raising an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

She removed her hand from behind her back to reveal a linen, a pastry inside with a berry and cheese custard. A desert that she had taken before the remains returned to the kitchen for the servants. 

"Dessert," Celeste said. "My gift for granting me safe travels when last we saw each other. I know asking you to refrain from debauchery comes at a cost, sweet Lord." 

She handed the linen and pastry over to Davos and took a few steps back. "You can keep the linen. It's one of the few without my house's sigil knitted into its fabric."

Davos chuckled softly as he accepted the gift from her, holding it delicately in his hands. 

"Safe travels?" He echoed with a smirk. "I suppose that's one way of putting it. I was rather tempted to have my way with you, right there against the tree."

He looked down at the package, his grin widening when he saw that it was a pastry. He wasn't one for sweets usually, but something about the fact that it was a gift from her made it more enticing.

"I guess you do truly like me."

"It could be poisoned," she said quickly with a shrug, her cloak flowing in the wind.

Davos chuckled again as she shrugged and mentioned the possibility of the pastry being poisoned. He raised his eyes to meet hers, his smirk unwavering.

"I doubt you would go through all this trouble just to kill me, little vixen." He said, holding the pastry up for a moment. "Besides, I'd rather risk some poison if it means a chance to lick your berry custard from my lips."

Celeste frowned and rolled her eyes, briefly reminded that Davos was just a boy and his jokes were senseless. "It's hard to imagine that you're highborn and educated when you speak like an Iron Islands jailer... give it a taste, why don't you?" She pointed to the pastry in his hands.

As she frowned and rolled her eyes, Davos couldn't help but grin wider. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her, watching her try and maintain her composure beneath that cold exterior. 

"Iron Islands jailer?" He repeated, his smirk turning into a sly smirk. "Is that supposed to be an insult?"

He looked down at the pastry again, holding it up towards his mouth.

"I don't know... what if it is poisoned and you just want to watch me die from it, all because I won't... what was the phrase.. refrain from debauchery."

"We can have it together," Celeste suggested, walking towards Davos and placing her hands within his. She tore a corner off the dessert and placed it into her mouth, never breaking eye contact from him. 

"It's worthy of you. I've built up a resistance to the poison within the berries, but you should be fine. A bout of dysentery is usually all that men will suffer," she smiled, a bit of berry staining her teeth before she licked them and smiled, nodding at the dessert, insisting he try it once more.

Davos raised an eyebrow at her suggestion, watching her as she approached him and placed her hands atop his. The feel of her skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, and he found himself holding his breath for a moment.

When she leaned in and tore off a corner of the pastry, he watched with a mixture of fascination and trepidation as she put it into her mouth. Her words about the berry's potential poisoning made him hesitate for a moment, but the sight of her stain her teeth in berry juice pushed him over the edge.

"Well, if you say so," he murmured.

She grasped his hands again and moved them slowly, still holding the dessert, to his mouth until the pastry grazed his lips and he had hardly no other decision than to bite into it. 

"This is the part where you bite, puppy."

As her slender fingers guided his hands towards his mouth, Davos felt a stirring in his chest. He couldn't tell if it was excitement or trepidation, but he found himself unable to tear his gaze from hers as she moved his hands closer and closer to his mouth.

When the pastry finally made contact with his lips, he couldn't help but grin at her comment. "Puppy, eh?" He murmured before taking a bite.

The taste of berry custard flooded his mouth, and he chewed slowly, savoring the flavor before swallowing.

"Was that so bad?" Celeste asked, stepping away after she'd lowered her hands from the boy's. 

She returned to her former spot, a higher vantage point in the wood, above a dry ravine. She sat on the ground, her knees close to her chest as she looked up at the young man, the evening sun playing on his hair as the trees shimmied above them. 

"Must I anticipate an ambush or did you come here alone?"

Davos watched as she stepped away, taking her place on the edge of the ravine. The sight of her, knelt down, her knees drawn up to her chest, was almost enough to send his thoughts spiraling in all kinds of directions. He cleared his throat and shook his head, reminding himself to concentrate.

"No ambush, little vixen," he replied, his eyes never leaving her. "I came alone, just as you asked."

Celeste began again: "I asked you for nothing other than to join me once more," she said emphatically. "Which you did. Why?"

Davos chuckled as she corrected him, his smirk returning to his face. "Fair enough, you didn't ask for anything else. But I came, didn't I?"

He stepped closer to the edge of the ravine, looking down at her. "As to why I came, well... I suppose I had to see you again. There was a debt to be settled between us, remember?"

She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked up at him. "I owe you nothing. You know that."

He chuckled again, his smirk growing wider. "Oh, but you do, little vixen. You owe me for my good behavior that day. If I hadn't been on my best behavior, you might have ended up with a few... bruises."

Grinding her teeth, Celeste looked over her shoulders and at the tree she had, not long before, been pinned against. She wasn't sure if sorrow became or irritation, but she knew she wouldn't let him put her in that position again. She had come willingly.

"I wonder," she said, hoping he would implore her on what was on her mind.

He noticed the way her gaze flitted towards the tree, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. A sly smile crept across his face, and he decided to indulge her.

"Wonder what, sweetling?” He asked, taking a step closer to her. “Do you wonder what might have happened if I wasn't so good to you? What I might have done to you if I had just let myself take what I wanted?"

"No," Celeste shook her head, leaning back onto her elbows, making sure to convey to him that she was not afraid and did not have to guard herself.

Before she spoke, she wished away the migraine that was moving behind her eyes. He was startlingly full of himself.

"I wonder: are you so often rejected by the maids that you think the only way to bed a woman is to force her hand?"

Celeste sucked her teeth, as if to spit on him if he lunged at her. She had built him up in her thoughts during his absence, but she saw him for what he was. A criminal with a title.

"You told me that I was the one that no one wanted. Are we here again to revel like two damaged dolls thrown into the trash?"

As she spoke, Davos felt his smirk falter for a moment. Her words were like a punch to the gut, hitting him right where it hurt. He had never really thought of himself as being rejected when it came to the maids - he had always seen it as just... a game, a challenge. But her words brought him up short. Was it really true? Did he really have to resort to force because he couldn't win a maiden's affections?

He shook his head adamantly. "That's not true," he protested. "I could have any woman I wanted, whenever I wanted."

"Perhaps that's true, and perhaps the most fun part of it for the maidens is to act as if they don't want it. To act like they don't enjoy being pressed against a surface by someone much stronger than them while they fight against them and beg them to stop because the maidens know that without their dignity, their virginity intact, they're worthless, but deep down, they really want it, and they're hoping someone like Lord Davos Blackwood comes and takes it from them, ruining them for all other men," she said this all in flaming spite before jumping, taller than a man because of her place on the ravine.

Davos felt a pang of something deep in his chest as he listened to her words, her voice dripping with spite. He couldn't quite place what it was - anger, perhaps, or defiance - but he didn't like the feeling.

He clenched his fists by his side as he looked up at her, his mouth set in a hard line. "You don't know anything about women," he shot back, his tone harsh. "Or about me. I don't need to force myself on women. They come to me willingly."

"You don't force yourself? That's rich. What was two nights ago? Or your threats to hurt me today? Just for fun? Just a game?"

Stepping closer to him so that the sun would be hidden behind her, she began her diatribe. Possibly an attack on all knights, or maybe simply Davos, but he had made her sick to her stomach. Had they not shared a glint of something special the night before? She shook her head with deep scorn.

"You're small and not worthy of my time. Or a Lord's high seat. More than this, I don't think you would be able to handle a woman seeing you for how pathetic you truly are, so you debase her first. You're a bully and bad at it, Davos."

As she stepped forward and began her tirade, Davos felt a surge of anger and frustration coursing through him. He clenched his fists tighter and gritted his teeth, his body tensing as she continued to pour out her venom.

Her words stung deep, and he felt his pride and honor being trampled under her feet. He didn't like being called weak, especially by her. He wanted to reach out and shake her, to knock her off her high horse and show her who was really in charge.

"You don't know me," he snapped back. "You don't know anything about me."

Celeste moved close enough to the boy that her cloak lapped at his own in the wind. She squatted down, nearly at eye level with him, though a little lower. "Do you have your wicked way with women, Davos, or was I special? Is the future Lord Blackwood just a petty criminal taking what isn't his?"

As she moved closer, Davos could feel the heat radiating off her body, her cloak mingling with his own in the cool evening air. He clenched his jaw as she squatted down, their heads now at eye level with each other. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as she uttered her words, her voice dripping with scorn.

He wanted to lash out at her, to grab her and shake some sense into her, but he knew better. He couldn't let her see how her words were cutting into him.

"You're not special," he snarled, his voice low.

Celeste smiled, her heart sinking in her chest. "No, I didn't think so," she said, standing slowly and wiping her hands off on the tights beneath her tunic. She turned to walk away.

Davos felt a pang of guilt as he watched her turn away from him. He felt as though he had said too much, lost control of the situation. He took a step forward, almost involuntarily, as if to reach out and stop her.

"Wait." The words came out before he had fully thought them through, and he cursed himself for sounding so desperate.

Celeste stopped walking but did not turn around to face him. She had no desire to-- if he wanted to say anything, now was his chance, or she would leave with a worse taste in her mouth than she'd had before.

Davos took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging storm of emotions within him. He knew he had to say something, anything, to make her stay, to repair the damage that had been done.

He stepped closer to her, until he was standing directly behind her. He could feel her body tensing, as if she was prepared to bolt. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, gently, almost hesitantly.

"I didn't mean it," he said softly. "You are special. I was just... being a fool."

She turned her head ninety degrees, making note of Davos in her peripheral and sighed. "Being the member of a great house is a heavy burden, Davos. We cannot continue to squander what we've been given just as our fathers and our fathers before them. These small, petty things diminish us.. our character. I want to live in peace eventually... you can't go around hurting your lieges. Those women have fathers and brothers who fight for you and are willing to die for you," she finally turned to face him entirely. "The repayment you give them is poor."

Davos felt a pang of shame as she spoke, her words hitting him like a blow to the gut. He knew she was right, and it pained him to admit it. He was the eldest son, the future lord of his house, and he couldn't just go around acting rashly, like a spoiled child.

He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting hers as she turned to face him fully. He could see the disappointment in her eyes, and it stung him more than he cared to admit.

"I know," he said quietly. "I know. I just... I can't help myself sometimes."

"Then you're impetuous like a child," Celeste said with a shrug. "What can be done with you? Mad dogs have their necks broken," she said, tilting her head.

Davos gritted his teeth at her words, his pride smarting at her description of him as an impetuous child. He wanted to argue, to defend himself against her accusation, but he knew that she was right.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep his temper in check. He knew that he couldn't let her see how much her words were affecting him.

"I'm not a mad dog," he ground out, his voice low and dangerous.

"Then you must do better for yourself and for the people that serve you," she wrung her hands and stepped away from him again, but only to size him up. For the first time, she was no longer scared of him. "I had no misgivings about your tendencies, I knew you were a villain, but I had thought before that perhaps we were kindred spirits which was folly in and of itself. You are my sworn enemy, but for a second when we last spoke and you told me about what you had heard about me in passing," Celeste looked away wistfully. "I was mistaken, I'm afraid. We shouldn't have met again."

Davos felt a pang of disappointment as she stepped away from him, her eyes studying him as if he was some sort of exhibit in a cage. He wanted to reach out and grab her, to hold her close and make her see that he wasn't the heartless brute she thought he was.

Her words about kindred spirits struck a chord in him, and the memory of their last conversation came rushing back. He remembered how vulnerable they had been with each other for a mere moment. He did not want to let the fear that he would never have that again begin to grow in his chest.

"I'm not your enemy," he blurted out, his voice desperate.

Looking at the linen still in the young man's hand, Celeste frowned and shrugged. "I cannot tell east from west with you, Davos. What do we do here now? We are not enemies, but I cannot call us friends, and I fear the treatment you'd give me as a maid. Perhaps there is nothing for us."

Davos looked down at the linen in his hand, his mind racing as he tried to think of a response to her words. She was right, he knew that. They were not enemies, but they were certainly not friends either.

He clenched his jaw, his pride telling him to just let her go, to forget about this whole encounter. But there was something inside him that wouldn't let her leave, something that wanted to hold on to the chance that she might change her mind about him.

"We could... be friends," he said finally, the words coming out weakly.

Celeste sighed, calming her cloak in the wind. "Can I trust you?"

Davos felt a pang of guilt at her question. He knew he had not earned her trust, not in any sense of the word. But for some reason, the thought of her not trusting him made his stomach twist into knots. He wanted her trust, more than he cared to admit.

"Yes," he said firmly, looking at her with a serious expression. "Yes, you can trust me. I won't hurt you. I swear it."

Celeste took a weary step towards the boy, reaching for his hand to shake, as if to guarantee their truce but the shake became a slow grasping of arms as if it were to become a hug, but she allowed herself to be wrapped up in his arms once more, hugging him tightly as though they had just avoided their greatest battle: losing something so new and fragile so early. She listened to his heart beat.

Davos was surprised when she stepped closer to him, reaching out to take his hand for what he had assumed would be a handshake to seal their truce. But to his even greater surprise, she instead pulled him into an embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around him. He could feel her breath on his neck, her body pressed against his, and he found himself closing his eyes and holding her tightly.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest, the sound deafening in his ears. For a moment, everything else faded away, and all he could focus on was the feeling of her in his arms.

They held each other for a few seconds before Celeste looked up at the young man, her chin in his chest as she looked into his eyes and impatiently and irrationally, she hoped he would kiss her. In a depraved way, she envied the girls he must have taken advantage of, because at least they had had him. She could only imagine what his plump lips would feel like against her own or on parts of her body, and though she tried to push this desire deep down, she couldn't, but was it her fault? He had been the one to ignite her desire.

Davos looked down at Celeste, his eyes meeting hers as she looked up at him with an expression that he couldn't quite read. He could feel her body pressed against his, and he found himself drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

He could see the desire in her eyes, the way she looked at him, and it stirred something deep inside him. He wanted her, he knew that much. And he couldn't deny the way his own body was reacting to her closeness.

Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned down and brought his lips to hers, in a gentle, exploratory kiss.

It was a contrast to how he had treated her the day before. He held her tightly but kissed her lightly, almost the way one would kiss the forehead of a child to sleep. Perhaps she would ruin it all, the innocence of that pink and blue sunset, and perhaps she was impatient, but Celeste quickly placed her hands on the sides of Davos's face and kissed him deeply, fiercely and with a hunger that was not friendly.

Davos felt a pang of surprise as Celeste suddenly grabbed his face and deepened the kiss, her lips pressing against his with a hunger that he had not been prepared for. He pulled away abruptly and looked the girl up and down, incredulously. 

“Why denounce me then pull me in like some sorceress,’ he pulled his face from the clutch of her hands, his brow dressed in confusion. She was beautiful but he could see the cunning energy behind her eyes and could not stand to be manipulated for even a minute more. “Why come back if you think me a miscreant, Celeste?”

"Your threats felt more like invitations, you don't think?" They had both come back, hadn’t they?

"An invitation, you say? And what kind of invitation would that be?" He pressed himself closer to her. "Perhaps one to play a game of cat and mouse?"

“If you be the mouse, my lord.”

“Today you bite and I run, you take it?”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before he let go of her gently and took a step back, extending his hand towards her. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards a deeper part of the forest. 

She wasn't sure why she did it, but she did. Celeste took the boy's hand and followed after his long strides. He was a villain, a menace, an enemy to her house, but at times he could seem quite gentle. She was coy, acting oblivious to what could happen but followed after him quickly as they retreated further into the woods, past the spot she was familiar with.

They came to a clearing and Davos turned back to her, pulling her closer to him, his body pressing against hers as he tasted her, his tongue exploring her mouth as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her. He could feel the heat radiating between them, a fire that threatened to consume them both.

His hands cupped her face, as he spoke between feverish kisses: "I had every right to you, Celeste. You were on my family's land, and I was merely protecting what is mine, but I did not come here to argue with you today about propriety or dignity," he said, his voice growing softer.

“Then what,’ she began, flushed. “Surely you did not think I would give so easily,’ but this was in contrast to what her hands were doing. She had begun to undo her cloak and release her hair from her braids. “Such as a common whore.”

“A common whore,’ the boy laughed, taking a step back from the young woman as her cloak dropped to her feet. “You’ve acted as one. Running around the woods with no knights to protect you, then you talk about honor. No respectable lady would have been here in the first place, and even a first class whore wouldn't have come back after being shown the danger of it,’ he sighed with a chuckle before beginning to undo his own cloak and casting it on the ground for the two to lay upon.

“You say this in jest,’ Celeste muttered, half-serious and half-offended.

“Of course,’ Davos said, sympathetically, remembering that the viper, herself, was capable of offense. He crossed his arms, still feeling the pressure of her lips on his. “I do believe you want this, Celeste. I will make it gentle for you.”

She bit her lips in trepidation, unsure of what to do as her heart raced. 

"Help me," she asked, placing his hands on the strings of the back of her gown, a thin corset that he could undo quicker than her.

Davos felt a pang of excitement as he realized what she was asking him to do. He gently placed his hands on the strings of the back of her gown, his fingers working quickly to undo them as she had requested.

He could feel the heat radiating off her body, and his own heart was pounding in his chest as he pulled the strings loose, the fabric of her gown loosening around her body. He couldn't help but let out a soft, appreciative noise as he saw the bare skin beneath the fabric.

As he removed his hands from her back, Celeste looked down as the dress fell down around her feet atop the cloak. She still had on a thin undergarment, but beneath that, she was naked. The boy knelt down, his face resting on her torso as he undid the less of her tights and pulled them down roughly but without injury, as one would do having not practiced decorum before.

Celeste knelt down in front of him, a quiet wind whistling through the forest. She didn't know where things would go from there, but something in her wanted to show Davos what it felt like to be wanted, and she did want him. She thought that he must have wanted her to, the way his eyes searched her body. 

He couldn't help but stare at her, his eyes taking in every inch of her, the curve of her hips, the gentle slope of her neck, the heat radiating between them. He ached to touch her, to run his hands over her skin and feel the softness beneath his fingers.

"I'm not sure now," she said, placing her hands on his arms. Her nipples hardened in the chilling air, and she knew she didn't have much time to spend with him. "I've never done this before."

Davos felt a pang of realization when she spoke, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and it dawned on him that this was uncharted territory for her.

Falling back into his thighs, he put his hands on his waist and allowed his eyes to meet hers once again. He wanted to take care of her. "It's okay," he said softly, his voice low. "I won't hurt you."

Celeste bit her lip and nodded, holding onto him tightly as they kissed again, his hands trailing over her body before they slipped underneath her garment and landed around her round butt. He made small circles with his hands around each perfectly crafted cheek. After a few seconds, one of his hands slipped forward, caressing the outer lips of her precious spot. He felt her shiver underneath him. Pulling away from the kiss, he searched her eyes.

“Have you never been touched?”

Celeste shook her head. Davos moved his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers generously before touching her again, this time from in front, allowing his fingers to slide past her lips and onto her ripening pearl. Her hands were on his shoulders, and he felt her tense up when he touched her. They stared at each other in silence before the boy began to make generous circles around her sensitive spot to which she whimpered.

“Do you like that?”

The girl nodded shyly. Davos used his other hand to touch her chest before moving his hand to her neck, feeling the warmth grow as her entire body blushed. He returned to a position erect on his knees. Slowly, he pulled her undergarment over her head, revealing her smooth skin and soft body. Only her boots remained, but they would stay, it would take too much time to remove them.

“You’re beautiful,’ he murmured, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. He began to kiss her neck, his hands roaming over her curves before he moved to lay her down on the cloak. He kissed her ear and whispered abruptly: “You’re being very brave.”

Celeste rolled her eyes and smiled, before a sudden feeling of vulnerability washed over her. She hadn't expected to give in so easily, but she could not clear her thoughts. He was right. Why was she there if it wasn't because she wanted to feel his hands once more upon her body and his gentle weight atop hers.

Davos could sense her hesitation, but he was determined to make her feel comfortable. He leaned down to kiss her again, his hand moving to cup her breast as he did so. "Relax," he whispered against her lips. "I won't hurt you."

He trailed kisses down her neck and chest, taking his time to explore every inch of her body. He moved his hand down between her legs, teasing her gently with his fingers.

Celeste felt Davos's hands between her legs, a rush of electricity going up her back. The feeling was new to her, and the sudden wave of pleasure made her frown in embarrassment, her entire body growing red.

"Yes," she whispered, almost shrinking into herself as his fingers circled her clit before they made entrance to her moistening hole. Celeste clenched tightly, still unsure of the new sensation and suddenly disappointed that she had waited so long to be pleasured. She broke eye contact with the boy, her eyes rolling backwards.

Davos could sense her embarrassment, but he didn't want her to feel ashamed. He continued to tease her with his fingers, moving them in and out of her slowly as he watched her reaction. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers.

He continued to pleasure her until she was gasping for breath, her body writhing beneath him. He leaned down to kiss her again, his hand still moving between her legs. "Do you want more?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

Celeste kissed the boy back, bringing his bottom lip into her mouth and sucking gently as she allowed her arms to move around him, pulling him closer. She had never been this close with anyone before in her life, and a sense of trust washed over her. She stopped for a second, a burning in her chest and wondered how many other women must he have bedded, deflowered? She couldn't reconcile her fear with her lust and dramatically exhaled, pulling away from the kiss, her head flopping on the ground as she searched his lustful eyes. He asked her a question.

"What do you mean?"

She felt the girl pull away from their kiss, and he dropped his head into the nape of her neck, slightly annoyed but patient. She seemed to be done with his fingers inside her, but when he moved them back to her throbbing clit, he quickly felt her body twitch and knew she was still in the mood for... something.

She moaned out a question and he looked her over, her breasts, then her soft belly and the uncut down above her womanly parts. Truly a woman, in all senses of the word.

He moved his hand from her wet parts and picked her hand up to place atop of his growing bulge, lifting his head to make eye contact with her. 

"Do you want to feel it, my lady?"

Celeste's hands pandered with trepidation over the boy's bulge, unsure of what the correct answer was. She bit her lower lip and nodded, retracting her hand slowly as she saw him begin to remove his belt.

Davos watched Celeste's reaction with a small smile as she hesitantly touched his bulge. He leaned in closer to her and whispered in her ear, "Don't be shy." 

He continued to remove his belt and pants, revealing his hard member. He took off his tunic and searched the girl's eyes again before taking Celeste's hand and placing it back on his member, guiding her movements as he moaned softly. Davos then moved his hand to Celeste's waist, pulling her close to him as he kissed her again, deeply and passionately.

As the kiss deepened, Davos began to move his hips, grinding against Celeste's hand as he pleasured himself. He broke the kiss and looked at Celeste with lust-filled eyes. 

"You really haven't done this before, huh?"

Celeste's heart was racing as the two kissed, she could feel the blood pulsing through his cock, and she could only imagine what it would feel like inside of her. He was bigger than she had expected, but after all, what had she expected? She began to feel the boy pushing himself in and out of the grip of her small hand, pleasant moans escaping his lips.

When he broke their kiss, she pulled away in surprise. "No, am I doing something wrong?"

Davos chuckled and shook his head, "No, no. You're fine." He leaned in to kiss her again, his hands roaming over her body as he did. 

As they kissed, Davos moved his hand back down to the girl's wetness, feeling that she was even more soaked than before. He couldn't take it. He broke the kiss again, looking at her with desire in his eyes as he whispered, "I want you. Do you want me too?" 

He waited for her response, his fingers tracing circles on her inner thigh.

"Yes, yes," Celeste nodded, still feeling his stiffened member in her hand.

Davos leaned in to kiss her again, his hand moving back to her wetness. He rubbed her clit with his thumb, eliciting a moan from her lips. He laid back onto the cloak, the girl hovering above him. He grasped at her breasts once more, softly but surely.

"I want you to ride me. It won’t be difficult,’ he led the girl up and onto his hips, rubbing his hand down her side. “I’ll help you, okay?”

His cock was at attention as he watched Celeste straddle him. He guided himself inside of her, groaning as she took him in. He could tell by the look in her eyes that he would have to take her slowly. She placed her hands on his chest and did her best to find a rhythm, but she was a novice, he knew this. Though it was difficult to concentrate with how wet and tight she was, Davos managed to guide the girl's hips up and down his shaft, her soft weight massaging his balls each time she came down on him again. He caught a few glimpses of her mouth, slightly agape each time she felt him reach inside of her, but he could not watch her for long if he wanted to last more than a few minutes. Moving his hands from her hips to her chest, he allowed Celeste to take control again and though her bounces were shallow, he smirked at how quickly she was learning, her beautiful breasts bouncing lightly.

When he began to toy with her nipples, moans began to escape from her lips. Davos squeezed them tightly before massaging them with his fingers, but it wasn’t long before he began to feel himself tense up.

“Go slower,’ he told the girl, and she listened. Instead she ground into him deeper and pulled up slower, the only noise around them being the wet sticky snap from her wetness peeling away from his hard cock. Davos pulled her close to him for a kiss, his arms wrapped completely around her as he began to thrust vigorously, the girl moaning them whimpering pathetically into his mouth. Their movements became more frantic, both of them lost in their desire for each other. Davos let out a low growl as he felt his orgasm building.

With a thrust and groan that had been built up, he felt himself release inside of her, his liquids slowly seeping from her and onto his thigh. Davos sighed, shaking, holding the young woman tightly in his arms. He moved his hands to her hair, massaging her scalp as his heartbeat slowed. From the corner of his eye, he saw her orange cape on the ground and shook his head. He couldn’t believe that only three days ago, he hadn’t even known what her voice sounded like. Now: he had been her first. He felt a sense of pride, but he knew now that things would be different. He would be partial to someone he should have never spoken to.

Davos kissed the girl’s forehead before repositioning himself so that he was spooning her naked body as she lay face down, her eyes closed.

“Are you okay?”

Celeste nodded silently, allowing herself to be caressed by the boy. The birds flew above them. The sun was on the horizon and they hadn't much time.

"When will I see you again?"

He looked down at her as she spoke, his fingers lost in her hair. He knew they didn't have much time left, and he wanted nothing more than to stay there with her removed from all the difficult questions they both had to ask themselves.

"Soon," he said softly. "I'll make sure of it."

Celeste sighed and turned over. She leaned forward quickly, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Of course," she said, rolling her eyes at the vague response. Of course she had been bed, and now she felt as though she would not see the young man again. She grabbed her under garment and tights, standing up to put them on, her back away from the boy.

Davos watched as she stood up and began to dress, her back facing him. He could see the tension in her movements, the way her shoulders were stiff as she pulled on her undergarment and tights.

He felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he had caused her frustration with his vague response. He could see the disappointment on her face, and he knew he had failed to reassure her.

He stood up as well, grabbing his own clothes and beginning to dress.

Celeste put on her gown, not worrying to tie it, as she didn't want to ask for help. She fastened her cloak tightly so that the give in her waist wouldn't be apparent if she were to encounter someone she knew. Searching the ground to ensure none of her belongings remained, she hesitated for a second to see if there was anything left to be said between the two.

Davos finished dressing as well, his eyes on her the whole time. He could see the uncertainty in her movements, and he knew she was hesitating, unsure of what to say or do next.

He took a step towards her, his gaze on hers. He wasn't ready to say goodbye, not yet.

"Celeste," he said softly, his voice hesitant. "Can I ask you something?"

"My lord?" she said, the darkness beginning to settle on their faces, their emotions growing harder to read.

Davos took another step towards her, his eyes on hers in the gathering darkness. He took a deep breath, unsure of how she would react to his question.

"Will you meet me again? Somewhere secret? Somewhere we won't be seen."

Celeste looked around her in shock, she wasn't sure if he could see that emotion, however. "I don't know of a place other than this. It wouldn't be safe...' she pandered. "I would fancy seeing you somewhere other than the shade of the forest. I'm not sure how to make this wish apart of our world though." She frowned.

Davos could hear the hesitation in her voice, and he knew that finding a secret place to meet would not be easy. He thought for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a solution.

"I have an idea," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. "There's a secluded spot not far from here. It's hidden away, and no one ever goes there. We could meet there."

"Ah,' Celeste said aloud. "On Blackwood land, I'm sure of it." She shook her head. "Then it's not safe for me."

Davos felt a pang of frustration as she rejected his idea. He knew it wasn't safe for her to be on Blackwood land, but he couldn't help the desperation in his voice.

"It's safe," he said firmly. "I can ensure your safety. No one will see you, no one will know. Just trust me."

The sun was set, a few dying embers in the sky, and Celeste knew she would have to guide herself back by the moon. She was lucky, for once, that they hardly looked for her.

"Where shall I meet you? And when?"

Davos felt a sense of relief wash over him as she agreed to meet him again. He smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at the prospect of seeing her again.

"Tomorrow," he said, his voice low. "At midnight. Meet me at the riverbank, not far from here. Do you know where I mean?"

"I know," she responded. "I will meet you,' Celeste promised, stepping towards Davos in the dark. She could not make out his expression but she saw the shape of his face. On the tips of her toes, she grasped his face once more and gave him a parting kiss. "Bed no other maidens in the meantime, my friend,' she joked before slipping away.

He returned her kiss eagerly, feeling her soft lips against his own before she pulled away. He chuckled at her joke, a hint of a grin on his face.

"There are no maidens other than thee," he shouted into her retreating direction. "I'll be waiting for you, Celeste. Midnight, by the river."

tag list: @shifter-101

[puppym3]

farmer!reader x writer!hyunjin who is her secret admirer and he sent her letters? the farmer is new to the town, getting away from the cities and hyunjin is the last person she met after everyone in town since he's always in his cabin near the beach

kind of like the game, stardew valley!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ dear farmer,

wc: 4.4k

warnings: fluffy cuteness, confessions, literally not much to warn you on this is just rly cute, mailman chan, fisher jisung, farmer reader, author/writer hyunjin, hyunjin refers to reader as his muse, (LMK IF I MISSED ANY!)

a/n: THIS IS TOO CUTE OH MY GOODNESS GOODNIGHT. i was literally gushing writing this i hope i wrote it the way you were imagining. i love stardew valley so tysm for suggesting this!!!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The small village you moved into was a far cry from the bustling city life you once knew. The quaint charm of the town, with its winding cobblestone streets and picturesque cottages, had drawn you in immediately. Seeking a fresh start and a simpler life, you had purchased an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, eager to put down roots and cultivate your own land.

The townspeople had been incredibly welcoming, each of them eager to meet you. You quickly found yourself immersed in the community, sharing smiles and stories at the local market and lending a hand wherever you could. Despite the warm reception, there was one resident you had yet to meet.

You had heard whispers about him from the other villagers—an enigmatic writer who rarely left his cabin by the beach. The townsfolk spoke of his talent with a mix of admiration and curiosity, but none seemed to know much about him personally. It wasn't for lack of trying—the local mail carrier, Chan, had admitted defeat after only one attempt to reach out, grumbling something about a ferret with a temper.

A part of you had always wondered what his writing was like, and what kind of man would choose such isolation. Perhaps he was shy, or simply enjoyed being left to his own devices. There had to be a reason why the villagers hadn't tried to reach out to him again, and yet—

"Hyunjin isn't one for conversing," Chan insisted, taking the bundle of envelopes from his bag and sliding them into the mailbox outside your farmhouse. "You don't have to worry about him."

You glanced toward the direction of the beach, watching the sun dip down over the waves. Why did his isolation make him more interesting to you? You supposed you should be grateful for his lack of interaction; with the busy work on the farm and the number of people you already tried to help each day, you didn't have time for many social gatherings. Still...

"Well," you sighed, dusting off your hands and returning the empty milk bottles to the box on your porch, "thank you, Chan."

The mailman smiled, his dark eyes crinkling in the corners. "Any time."

Heading toward the field, you squared your shoulders, determined to focus on the day's tasks and push any thoughts of the mysterious writer aside. You still had some planting to do, after all, and a long walk ahead of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days later, you woke with a yawn, stretching your limbs in your bed. Sunlight poured in through the windows, illuminating the small room. The warmth was pleasant, a sharp contrast from the chilled breeze outside. You couldn't help but smile, thankful that winter had yet to roll around. The transition to farming was a busy one, and the prospect of facing your first snowfall was more than a little intimidating.

Rising from the mattress, you threw on an old, oversized sweater, not bothering to change into your work clothes before making a quick cup of tea in your kitchen. It was an easy routine to settle into, the steamy brew doing wonders for your motivation in the mornings. Once your mug was half empty, you changed into a pair of old, paint-stained overalls and made your way outside.

"You have mail today." Chan greeted you with a warm smile, already standing in front of your mailbox. "I wasn't sure if I'd catch you or not. It's nice to see you awake so early."

"Yeah, yeah." You grinned, nudging him in the arm playfully. "What's the big delivery?"

"Just the usual." Chan shrugged, sliding a few envelopes from his bag and setting them down in the mailbox. "Some advertisements and invitations to parties."

You paused, peeking inside. It looked like the usual bundle of mail—some from fellow townspeople and some from local companies looking to get your attention. You hummed in thought, glancing over the usual assortment before a handwritten letter caught your attention.

It was written in simple script, the envelope adorned with a tiny blueberry stamp in the corner. It stood out against the other, more formal pieces of mail. The sight made you pause.

"Oh," you said, your curiosity piqued. "This one looks different."

"Huh?" Chan followed your line of sight, his eyes widening when he spotted the letter. "That's... oh. Oh."

You blinked. "What? Do you know who sent it?"

Chan fiddled with the strap of his bag. "I recognize that writing," he muttered, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Really?" You said, curiosity piqued.

He paused, glancing around your front porch. "You know, I'm a bit busy today. I should head off," he stuttered, already backing away. "Goodbye."

Before you could question his reaction any further, the mailman was already hurrying away down the path to the next house.

Furrowing your brow, you took a step back. Had you said something wrong? Maybe it wasn't a big deal; you could always ask Chan about it later, anyway. In the meantime, you were eager to see what the letter held.

The moment you picked the letter up, your senses were overwhelmed with a comforting, earthy scent. You recognized it immediately. It smelled of the ground after a spring shower, or of the rich dirt after a hard day's work in the fields. You breathed it in, the smell quickly becoming your favorite. You had always associated the earth with a sense of peace, and this scent was no exception.

Smiling softly to yourself, you broke the seal with ease, unfolding the crisp parchment paper to reveal the same script. You were surprised by the neat handwriting; each letter was carefully drawn out, the author's focus clearly evident in their penmanship. You began to read, your smile growing as you devoured the contents of the letter.

To the farmer,

You know, I've always thought the sun is kind of funny. The sun rises and sets, and then rises and sets again. Sometimes the sky is blue, and other days it is white. But in every sunrise, there is one thing that stays the same. It's you. You always rise with the sun. I used to wake up when it was light outside, but these days I've started to wake up earlier. It's a good way to start the day. I know the sun is your companion in the mornings.

Your admirer,

H.

You stared down at the words, the heat of a blush rising up your cheeks. How sweet, you thought to yourself, holding the letter a bit closer. You had to admit that it was nice to read—to know that someone in town noticed the time of day you woke up and, what's more, noticed how much you liked to work under the early sunlight. You hadn't thought about the author much before, but now, you were eager to meet them.

Before you could think it over, you folded the letter with care, sliding it into the pocket of your overalls. You glanced up toward the sun, letting it wash over your face for a moment before heading to work. The sun was your companion, after all. You may as well take advantage of its light.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next few weeks, the letters continued. Each day, Chan would deliver one to your doorstep. It became part of the routine, and you quickly grew accustomed to the extra attention. Every time you spotted the blueberry seal on your front doorstep, your heart leapt with joy, eager to see the new message written within.

Sometimes the letters were short; other times they were long. Occasionally, the author would ramble, describing a favorite memory from their childhood or sharing a silly joke. You read each word carefully, often smiling or chuckling as you read, already eager for the next message. The more letters you read, the more you wanted to learn about this mystery person.

A part of you wondered who this author might be. The only clues were the scent of earth on the pages and a few hand-drawn images. You had been able to rule out Chan; it would be near impossible for him to write a letter each day and still be on time to the next house. That left you with little knowledge of the writer's identity, though you hoped that the writer might eventually share their identity.

Today, a soft rainfall pattered down over your fields. You sighed to yourself as you entered the house, wiping the mud from your boots before sliding them off on the mat in front of your door. Another busy day in the fields was over. Tomorrow was a new day, one where you would finally plant a new patch of carrots. The prospect of the harvest kept you motivated as you reached for the envelope, eagerly tearing it open with a smile.

As you read the letter, your smile slowly faded. A hint of fear and excitement coursed through your veins, leaving you a little shaken as you absorbed each word.

To the farmer,

It's getting colder here. Soon, I'll have to wear a scarf every day, even indoors. I wish I had the courage to share more of myself with you. Maybe if we ever met in person, I wouldn't be so nervous. I can't wait until I'm brave enough to tell you more about me.

Your admirer,

H.

P.S. I hope the sun will rise tomorrow morning. You always end up rising, and I trust your routine.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The letters started to come with less often. Sometimes you would receive one per day. Other times, you might get one a few days apart, with only one letter on the weekends. You hated to admit that it left you feeling a bit sad, your mood growing darker as time passed.

"Oh, Chan." You tried not to sound disappointed when you spotted the mailman walking up your path one morning, a few letters in hand. "Any letters from H?"

"Hmm, I don't think so." He shrugged, sliding a few letters into your mailbox. "Let me see. Oh! There is one."

He handed you a new letter, a faint smile on his lips. You quickly broke the seal, not bothering to glance over the others as you eagerly opened the newest one. Your eyes widened at the words you saw before you.

My dearest,

I'm sorry that my letters haven't come as often lately. There was a big change at the publishing house I'm working for. I didn't tell you about that before. I've been trying to keep my letters shorter since I have less free time now, but I always find myself wanting to write more to you. I guess I can't help myself.

I'll keep writing letters if you keep reading.

Yours,

H.

P.S. Thank you for working hard every day. It helps to see that the world still spins, no matter what's happening in it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Have you ever thought about trying to meet H?"

The question made you pause. You were out by the docks, fishing with Jisung. The young man was your favorite fishing buddy, often sitting on the end of the dock in silence with a small smile. You both had been there for an hour, but this was the first time he'd spoken today. You blinked at him in confusion before setting your fishing rod aside, a curious look on your face.

"What do you mean?"

Jisung smiled. "It's obvious you enjoy their letters," he pointed out, reeling in another fish from his line. "Maybe you could meet them?"

You stared down at your reflection on the water, chewing the inside of your cheek. The truth was that you hadn't considered the idea, mainly because you couldn't decide if it was a good one. It wasn't like the writer had never suggested the idea—it was the whole purpose behind their first few letters, but something about that made you hesitate.

It was as if you were waiting for H to come to you when they were ready, and vice versa. It was a little scary, to be honest. The thought of finally meeting the person you'd been so connected to these last few weeks made you a bit nervous, to say the least.

"I guess I should." You nodded, casting your line again.

"Well, I'd like to meet them too," Jisung said, glancing toward you. "To approve."

You smiled at that, rolling your eyes playfully. "What's not to like? They write beautiful letters and draw nice little pictures," you laughed, watching the bait at the end of your hook. "Maybe I should meet them."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night, you made your decision.

"Chan! You have a moment?" You waved the mailman down the next day as he passed your house on the trail, a few envelopes in his arms.

He looked over in surprise, smiling as he hurried down the path. "Good morning," he greeted you. "How's the farm?"

You smiled back at him. "Great, hey, you seemed to know a little bit about H that you aren't telling me." You said, getting straight to the point. "Do you know anything more?"

The mailman frowned for a moment, before sighing. "Well, you should go to the beach." He said, gesturing to the coastline, visible over your house. "Hy—I mean, H, they live near there."

You blinked, looking to where the mailman was pointing. "They live near the beach?"

"Yeah."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had to be the grumpy writer who lived alone that you hadn't met yet. That was your only option, right? He had to be H. Who else could it be? You sighed to yourself, gathering your things in a bag and setting off in the direction of the beach.

It was a bit of a hike, the ocean path curving and twisting to take you along a scenic route. You didn't mind the walk, though, pausing often to take in the scenery. By the time you arrived at the beach, you felt a little calmer. The beach was deserted; though that didn't surprise you. It wasn't too warm today. The air was cool and refreshing, with a few clouds rolling by overhead. It was the perfect day for a walk on the sand.

You scanned the coastline for any signs of a cabin, spotting one in the distance. It was nestled between the cliffs, overlooking a small patch of beach. It seemed a bit hidden, the sight making you smile to yourself.

The author had to be a loner, just like you were.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the cabin. As you came closer, you noticed a small, stone path that led to a patio on the beach. You spotted a wooden swing, rocking slightly in the breeze. A person sat on the seat, their head ducked in a book as they sat under a shady umbrella.

As you drew closer, you saw the mysterious person, his dark hair was a little messier than usual, with a few strands falling in front of his face. He seemed lost in the book in his hands. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused as he sat, oblivious to his surroundings. The sight made you smile, a sudden feeling of affection coming over you as you approached.

You recognized that messy hair and those dark, mysterious eyes.

It was Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin who lived alone near the beach. Hyunjin, the man you had only heard a few stories about from Chan and Felix, but he looked even better than you had imagined.

"Oh!" The man looked up and saw you approaching him. His eyes widened for a second before he cleared his throat, turning to face you with a hint of panic in his expression.

You paused at his reaction, stopping in your tracks. You suddenly felt very silly, not even considering that Hyunjin might not actually want you to visit him. You tried not to frown as you considered the possibilities. Had Hyunjin forgotten about your correspondence? Had you been a mistake? Was this a terrible idea?

"H-Hyunjin!" You stammered, cursing yourself for not planning this a bit better. You could already feel yourself start to sweat. "I'm the farmer, it's nice to finally meet you."

You held your hand out to Hyunjin, who eyed you up for a moment, his expression unreadable. You swallowed thickly, preparing to turn back around and run away—

"The farmer." The words sounded breathless. Hyunjin slowly placed his hand in yours. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes were trained on your face. His cheeks looked a little red as he held your hand in his own. It felt warm and a bit calloused, a clear sign that he was a writer. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

You felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter as you watched him, trying not to let the emotion show on your face. This was H. It was Hyunjin who wrote such beautiful letters to you and sent you drawings in the post. Hyunjin was your author, the person you'd connected so easily to through ink and paper, and he was so beautiful.

"It's nice to put a name to a face." You murmured, letting your eyes wander over Hyunjin. "You're just how I imagined."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," You sat next to Hyunjin on his porch, staring up at the sky above you. It was beginning to grow darker, the evening sky giving way to a more vibrant sunset. "How'd you get so good at writing letters?"

Hyunjin smiled a little to himself. He leaned back against his hands, his long legs stretched out on the floor. "I've always loved writing," he confessed. "But it was different before, when I was younger."

"Different how?" You asked, looking over at him curiously.

He let his eyes close. "Before I left the city, I worked at the publishing house." He explained. "I always wrote stories there, but they weren't really... mine."

You blinked, watching the way his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks. "They were stories that people hired us to write," he said quietly. "But I liked doing it. I felt like I was doing something special with the words, even if they weren't my words. I wrote all day and got paid for it. But there was always this... nagging voice in the back of my mind, wondering if it was good enough."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "It sounds like it was a good job," you whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment. "Why did you leave it behind?"

The author chuckled. "I got sick of it." He sighed, opening his eyes and looking up to the sky. "It felt so empty. I wasn't making my own decisions. I wasn't getting paid because the stories were mine."

You swallowed. "But here?" You gestured toward the beach, your heart swelling in your chest. "You can write about whatever you want?"

Hyunjin looked to you and smiled softly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the days turned to weeks and then to months, the two of you fell into an easy routine. You visited Hyunjin every morning, bringing breakfast along with you, and Hyunjin always made sure to leave you a letter by your front door in return. Sometimes he would be waiting outside his cabin when you came, eager to talk about a new plot point that he came up with the night before. Other times, he would be asleep by the time you got to him, only stirring from his slumber when he heard you set breakfast out on his porch.

And he wrote to you every day, leaving letters on your front doorstep, each one signed off with a different nickname. Some days, the nickname was short, others, it was longer. But he always ended the letter with a promise of a new chapter, just as he had with the first one, so long ago.

On your fifth visit, this time you brought him a letter. He was surprised to see you hand it to him. He blinked down at the envelope in his hands, running a thumb over the words on the paper.

You were nervous, you were nowhere near as good as him, but you assumed that speaking in his language would gauge his appeal.

To my writer,

You are more talented than you give yourself credit for.

Thank you for always writing so beautifully,

Your admirer,

The farmer

"I wanted to send you a letter today." You whispered as his eyes scanned over the letter.

Hyunjin looked up from the page. His expression softened as he set the letter down. He held out his arms in invitation, his lips curving upwards as he stared back at you. You didn't need him to repeat himself, throwing yourself into his arms without hesitation. You leaned your head against his chest and listened to his heart beat. The sound made your heart race. It was as if Hyunjin's heartbeat had become a part of you. You could hear the rhythm and knew it was a part of you as well, just as much as it was him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the course of your visits, it was inevitable that your relationship evolved into something deeper. It began with subtle touches—a brush of your hands against each other as you sat together on the porch or the feeling of Hyunjin's gaze on your face as you read a story he wrote. As you began to notice his attention to detail, the way he was able to capture emotions with words you didn't know how to express, you realized how much he had given you.

You had never considered yourself an introvert, but something about being around him made you feel at ease. The thought made you blush. There was a strange warmth that settled in the pit of your stomach whenever you were around him. You began to crave it, yearning to feel it whenever you could, whether you were spending time together on the beach, walking the trails along the coastline, or simply sitting on his porch swing, talking about nothing at all.

And slowly, that warmth grew into something more. The more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be close to him. It started with soft smiles and light touches, followed by gentle touches and lingering glances. It began as something innocent, but the longer you were with him, the stronger it got. You were becoming addicted to it, longing for the next chance you would get to see him, to touch him and feel that rush of electricity course through your veins.

You found yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning to watch the sunrise. You began to count the seconds until the mail came. You went to bed late every night, staying awake until your eyes hurt to stare.

Your visits grew longer, your conversations becoming deeper.

Hyunjin became your new favorite distraction.

"It's a book." He had whispered as you both lay on the beach, his gaze trained on the stars above you. "I'm writing a book, I think."

"You think?"

He had nodded, the hint of a smile on his lips as he spoke. "Yes, and I've started to wonder..." he had paused then, looking to you as his cheeks turned pink. "That you're my inspiration."

You felt your breath hitch at the admission, a blush creeping up your neck to stain your cheeks. "What do you mean?"

He had sat up and looked at you with those deep, dark eyes.

"You're the one that I'm writing this book for. It's yours, my feelings, my thoughts, everything in it is for you." He said, reaching up to cup your cheeks. "I think about you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I go for my walks," he had smiled shyly. "You're the only person that's on my mind and it feels so good to feel that way about something again."

The warmth that spread through your veins made you dizzy, but you found yourself smiling, a small sigh escaping your lips.

You wanted nothing more than to be Hyunjin's inspiration forever.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And soon the book was complete.

It was the last page in Hyunjin's journal that had been filled with his scrawled words and thoughts. It had taken him months, but he finished it, his heart and soul on each page.

Hyunjin read it to you as you sat on the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket as the wind blew off the sea. He sat with you and held the book in his hands, turning the pages as he spoke. His voice was soft and melodic as he told his story. The words came easily to him, the sentences flowing smoothly together. He paused often to look up at you, his eyes searching yours. His voice grew quieter with each word, until finally, he was whispering the last page.

You felt the tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall as he closed the book and set it aside. The silence that followed felt heavy, your mind still processing what he had just told you.

The book was a confession to you, a way for Hyunjin to express all of the feelings he had been struggling to express for the past few months. He told you that you were his muse, his reason to wake up each morning. You were the person who made him feel whole, complete, and it was all he wanted in life to be by your side, to feel this way for as long as he lived.

The book was about the two of you. He wrote it all, the letters he sent and the drawings he drew, just for you, to tell you how much he loved you.

Your tears spilled over, a few trickling down your cheeks as you sniffed quietly, a smile spreading across your lips as you stared up at him. He watched you closely, waiting for your response. With a shaky breath, you closed the distance between you and Hyunjin, leaning in. His eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching as he realized what was about to happen. Your lips met his in a tender, hesitant kiss, pouring all your gratitude, relief, and affection into that single moment.

Hyunjin made a quiet noise, almost like a gasp, but he quickly responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle yet fervent intensity. His hands found their way to your cheeks, cupping them delicately as if you were something precious and fragile. He deepened the kiss, and you felt a wave of warmth and security wash over you.

Time seemed to stand still as the two of you stayed there, lost in the moment. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, his hands cradling your face, and the steady rhythm of your racing hearts. Every pent-up emotion, every unspoken word, all lost in that moment.

And there was something that you had never mentioned to anyone before, something you were embarrassed to admit, something you had been keeping hidden deep within your heart.

You loved the author who lived by the sea.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Mythic Phantom

This is a little something I whipped up over a while thinking about merging the DP and Riordanverse universes together, and I thank @geraldmariaivo for helping me think my way through it. If you want the ao3 version you can find it here, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Most Underworld Gods felt it when Vlad’s current permanent Portal opened, but they all Felt it when Danny’s accident happened. A child’s death throes is hard to ignore after all. Pantheons world wide decided that was America’s problem, and Hel decided it was Persephone’s problem, and Haides felt it would close on its own. No gate to Khaos can stay open for long after all.

When Ember went globally live, Muses and Music Gods and Hypnos heard the way she sang, called out to the mortals to never be forgotten. Danny and Tucker dealt with her swiftly enough that she was remembered, noted even, but disregarded.

When the Fright Knight’s sword was drawn, many Fear Gods turned toward Amity, but Danny dealt with it swiftly. Most regarded it as an anomaly but Phobos and Deimos sent subordinate spirits to investigate the town and report anything interesting.

Hades and Persephone noted the invasion of Ghost Cops and saw that Danny had it handled in only a few days, which they would count as a quest fulfilled. Clearly, Amity Park was a contained issue, and the Master Bolt had gone missing by now so they have other things to deal with. The House of Life have some reservations but agree.

Then Pariah Dark got out, and the Gods scrambled to do something about that. In only a week however, He was dealt with too.  A closer eye was warranted. By everyone, not just the Observants.

Whoever these agents were, be they half-bloods or spirits or even minor gods, most wouldn’t see Young Blood and thus would fear Danny was losing it too. When he calmed down, they’d sigh in relief. The two future Ghost Villains who show up outside of the do-over would raise alarms at how fast ghosts can progress, but hey, it’s handled.

When the Hellenic spies are pulled back home for safety during the winter solstice, pleasantly surprised by Ghost activity dying down at the same time, Artemis and Luna, Khonshu and more felt something wrong happening as the Ghostwriter possessed the moon to speak.

When Duul Amon returned to the land of the living, the House of Life sent agents to the town, and Tucker Foley was immediately offered magic lessons. His is power over stone and steel, glass and gems, as well as an ear for the voices of machines. Between terrakinesis and technopathy, Tucker’s limits with his staff became only what he understood about technology.

Then entire copies of the Ghost Boy (Prince? King?) appear, attacking him, manipulating him for the elder, but he lets her go free after he’s rescued? Truly fascinating. Psychopomps keep an eye on Elle wherever she goes - she’s always very close to melting after all. The titan army also keep an eye on her, a powerful being both like and unlike the Gods, much the same as a Titan, Giant, or Monster.

Then the Reality Gauntlet is found by a mortal man, a rogue Magician, while the boy is busy trying to stop it and save the world, Lydia is keeping House of Life magicians and even Odin’s Ravens from finding Freakshow, so some Camp Jupiter heroes are being sent on a quest to deal with him. Then he gets the fucking gems and turns the world into a circus for 10 minutes.

Before the Boy tricks him, takes the Gauntlet, resets the world to before his identity was revealed to the world, (though perhaps not quite fooling the memories of Gods, who Are the world) and destroying the Gauntlet and gems in a single blast.

An artifact presumed by the Ghost Investigation Ward to be powerful enough to destroy the Infinite Realms, reduced to molten ash by one burst of power.

What to do about the young Phantom is a matter of discussion during the solstice meeting on Olympus.  Hades is sent to investigate the boy and finds that he is a godling of Kaos Themself, which sparks yet further debate on what to do when Artemis goes missing.

But then the Son of Hades stumbled upon Elmerton and witnessed a duel between Gods firsthand.

Danny Phantom faced off against Vortex, the ghost of all weather and sky and storm gods who had faded over the millennia, all on his own.  Even in defeat, Danny stole half of Vortex’s power, and less than a week later, he defeated the calamity that even two pantheons worth of gods could not.

The Titans would be horrible for humanity as a whole, and the Olympians were bad for half bloods as well.  Danny Phantom, however, could be just what most half bloods were after.  He needed training in mortal form, clearly, but that could be an angle for Nico to use.

[gleefullypolin]

Stacy's Tipsy Musing's - Colin Bridgerton Hot Takes - Part 1

Ok boys and girls, we need to have a little chat about Colin Bridgerton.

Part 2 has been out now for a couple of days and there have been a lot of hot takes to come out of the season. A LOT of hot takes.  I’m going to break this down into 4 parts. 4 questions that I'm seeing really bad hot takes about Colin.

Now none of this is new, I gotta say before Season 3 aired Colin was a hot button topic anyway. He seemed to be the Bridgerton brother that lots of people love to spew hate takes on anyway. But damn I gotta say its painful seeing the Polin fandom have so many bad takes falling from their lips.

So, I figured...having a little drink tonight, sitting down for Father’s Day (Happy Father’s Day, Colin) I’d give you the opinion on some of these takes that you didn’t ask for...Mine!

Ok let’s start with the hottest take. Question 1:

Does Colin really believe that Pen entrapped him in marriage?

“Perhaps that was another part of your planned entrapment”

Ok I have to say, I have never seen one line inspire SO MANY BAD TAKE FANFICS IN ALL MY LIFE! Let’s start at the beginning...he found out about Lady Whistledown by following Pen because he noticed she and his sister run off together and disappeared. His sister who was not speaking to Pen previously from his knowledge. So not only is he suddenly feeling betrayed by his future wife, but also his sister.

Now add to this, his trying to reconcile this lie in the middle of planning a wedding to the woman he thought he knew most of his life as quiet little Pen, who just weeks earlier he was trying to teach how to flirt and land a man. He is confused and angry.

But that’s only 2 layers of hurt. Let’s keep adding to that. Layer one, we have the lie. Layer two, we have a woman he thought he knew. Add in Layer three, the Marina situation.

The original LW lie for him was about Marina’s lie. The original entrapment. An entrapment that Colin was willing to look past. He was still willing to marry Marina despite her deception. He still checked in on her post marriage to Phillip to ensure she was happy, to see if she regretted NOT marrying him. Colin always regretted his behavior to Marina’s entrapment. An entrapment that LW pushed into the light and forced a different decision for him. I don’t think he cares about Marina now, he never once accused her of taking Marina from him, he never loved Marina, but she took his agency, his decision.

Now for the fun of it, let’s add layer four. Portia’s already accused Pen of entrapping Colin during his confrontation with her. An accusation he strongly defended her against. An accusation which led to him telling her he loved her for the first time and them sharing their first time together. Which he is now reminding her of.  “I’m a man of honor. And we were intimate.” Colin knows how to hurt Pen. We always know how to hurt those we have known for a long time, and they are of course the oldest of friends. He is striking her where he knows it will hurt her the most. Because he is hurting, and she caused the blow.

So let’s talk about the biggest blow of them all. “Perhaps that was another part of your planned entrapment” He doesn’t look her in the eye when he says any of this. He can’t, because he KNOWS he’s being an asshole. He knows its below the belt. But she hurt him. He’s angry, hurt, lashing out.

Because of Layer five...Hot anger at what she wrote about him at the beginning of the season. This person who knows him better than anyone else, wrote truth to page. No one knows the real Colin the way Pen does. His brothers toasted him when he returned home because of his new female attention, his friends said he was more fun this season. But Pen called his new persona a ploy for attention. She saw him for what he was. A fraud. If he is to forgive Pen, he is to also start to acknowledge that there is truth in things she says that perhaps Lady Whistledown does not tell lies.

But then there is layer six. Jealousy and shame. Colin has sat in all of his emotions, yes he’s angry about what she has written,but we get to the heart of it, he’s jealous of her and that makes him ashamed of himself. That’s very Book!Colin coded who was very ashamed of his jealousy, so much so that Pen mistook his silence and brooding as shame of her. But this Colin is brooding in his own shame and jealousy and lashing out at her.

And then we get to layer seven. Colin loves Penelope above all else. And with this love and hurt and shame and jealousy, there is nothing that will stop him from marrying her. And in part, that is where his ire in this pointed cut comes from. He’s reminding her that they will marry. This will happen. This woman who is a successful writer, something he thinks he will never be, will marry him. Because he has laid claim to her. He has bedded her. They were intimate, she was compromised, and they have entrapped each other. But above all, he loves her, and Lady Whistledown will not change that decision for him this time. This time, he will marry.

Seven layers of lies, deception, past hurts, parental pressures, anger, jealousy and shame, and above all love sat on his tongue and wormed through his thoughts for days until they cut out at the small woman beside him that he needed to hurt in that moment. The woman he had been avoiding for that very reason.

Colin is not a hateful man. He was a kind man. He was rarely angry. But when he was finally put in a place where anger was his only emotion, he avoided Penelope, so that he didn’t hurt her, so he would not say things that were unkind and would hurt her. But when put into the place that he could not avoid her, he lashed out. He made it very clear how things were going to go and he pouted, and he brooded and he said unkind words.

And he was ashamed. And after that he did his best to avoid her, (by being out drinking, sleeping on the couch, avoiding intimacy) so he would not lash out at her again. Because he was ashamed.

Stick around for Part 2.... Why would Colin send Pen home alone after finding her on the street at night?

[draczrys]

I know Criston Cole is not who you usually write for and I know he’s not a fan favorite but could you write a Drabble or one shot of Criston Cole x Reader? I love Fabian Frankel and just wish to read something with one of his characters. Much love! 💕

brb just added him to my muse list bc mr fabian is yum & early s1 criston is bearable. and this trope!! my fave medieval theme ever. like wdym i’m not supposed to love a boy w big brown eyes

COURTLY LOVE. ❨ criston cole x reader ❩

the standing of a riverland lord's youngest daughter was nothing of note to the realm. little to inherit, a pitiful dowry, barely a suitor at the door. so, the seven must have blessed you the day queen aemma requested your presence at court. the princess was of age now, and in need of ladies in waiting of noble birth.

suddenly, the world was a different place. thrown into the deep end of the red keep, you had all the dresses you wished for and every suitor at court vying for your hand in marriage. no longer just an unknown lady, but a lady of the crown. still, there wasn't a single lord or son that caught your eye. not since you saw him.

"... ser criston cole!"

your breath had caught in your throat as the young knight shed his helmet and blinked up to the royal box, respects paid to the king before he looks to you.

"i would like to ask for your lady's favour, if she would be so kind," he spoke, voice smooth, eyes never leaving your own. if it weren't for rhaenyra's elbow in your side, you're sure you would have stared all day.

"best of luck, ser," comes your wishes, leaning over the wooden rail to drop your favour over his joust. you had spent a whole day on it, the princess on her's too, weaving daisies and lavender into a pretty ring. "i hope that you win."

"as do i," criston muses, smirking. "if it means speaking with you again, my lady."

a blush burns at your cheeks, hurrying to sit back down. you ignore rhaenyra's teasing and watch the knight mount his horse, readying himself for the competition. he knocks down lord after lord, knight after knight, even defeating prince daemon. the heat in your chest has your heart beating quicker, head somewhat hazy as you watch on in delight.

the chaos of a tourney day sweeps you up from your daydreaming, ushered behind the princess to dress her for the feast. though she speaks to you as you braid her hair, it's barely audible past the heavy thoughts of the knight in your ears. eventually, when rhaenyra is summoned to her mother, you find the time to catch your breath in an empty hallway. leaning against the cold stone, your eyes squeeze shut to urge any romantic ideas from your mind.

"my good luck charm."

the sudden voice startles you, turning quickly to ready yourself in defence. but there, only a few steps away, is your knight. for a moment, you think he's talking about you. noting your furrowed brows and slightly cocked head, he raises the favour you had gifted into view.

"ah," you breathe out, a smile growing on your lips. "i'm glad it was of use."

criston mirrors your smile, steps closing the space between you, his armour clinking as it still rests on his bones. his arm reaches out, offering the flowered ring back to you. "it is custom the knight returns the favour to the lady, if they have survived."

glancing at the branches and petals your hands had tirelessly woven, then back to the warm eyes that watch you so carefully, that strange feeling creeps back into your chest. you shake your head.

"keep it," you urge, cheeks rounding. "perhaps it will bring you luck again."

cole's brows raise, interest obviously piqued at your suggestion. his smile turns crooked, eyes sparkling with a life you'd only seen outside of the walls of the keep.

"and will you be present, again? in case it is you, and not the favour, that has blessed me." his tongue is playful and teasing, but his eyes hold a sincerity you daren't question.

"i cannot promise my presence to be so virtuous." you giggle breathily, eyes darting to the ground for a moment to spare yourself the dizziness that comes from his gaze. "and i should--"

"a kiss then."

the blunt but hopeful proposition snaps your eyes back to him, unsure of whether to be more shocked, offended or delighted. criston smirks, obviously enjoying your surprise. "as a precaution, of course."

stomach jumping with nerves, heart dancing with excitement, you watch his eyes carefully in an attempt to gauge whether he was taunting you or not. but no, still only genuine.

shuffling forward, close enough now, you slowly stretch upwards onto your tiptoes. eyes locked, your lips journeying closer to his cheek - slightly stubbled, but littered with freckles. they barely brush his skin before he turns his head, quicker than you can notice, replacing his cheek with his lips.

the surprise that overtakes you is quickly subdued by the sweet taste of his kiss. his lips soft, just relishing in yours. not desperate or rough as you had seen with older lords and ladies, but delicate and kind. he only parts when he feels you swoon a little in his arms, smiling against the aftertaste of the kiss. breathless, you look at each other, caught up in the warmth between you.

"my lady," criston murmurs, stepping back from your space when he hears the distant patter of feet. bowing at the waist, his eyes still linger on your own. "until next time."

[sugruzt]

❝ castaways ; 명재현

𖥻 pairing: loser!myung jaehyung x female reader

𖥻 contains: rockstar!au, childhood best friends to lovers

𖥻 warnings: inspired by 5sos "try hard" + "heartbreak girl" / english is not my first language so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings, and i also forgot to proofread so i'm sorry in advance everyone

word count — 2.4k

synopsis — you and jaehyun had been friends ever since you could remember, supporting and caring for each other. but little did you know that the boy you saw as the personification of a soulmate found in a friendship, saw you as the most perfect muse for all the songs he had ever written. you didn't know it yet, but jaehyun was doing his absolute best to make you see his true feelings.

🎀

IT was no secret that looking back to your whole life, you’d lived more years being friends with jaehyun than not. it was natural — for the both of you — to share memories, habits, tastes, experiences, or whatever it was with the other; more natural even than doing so with your families. myung had always been there for you and you had always been there for him. always.

however, for a little over two years now, the two of you have not been able to see each other as often as you used to in the past. between you getting into university and him chasing his dream in the music industry, the necessary sacrifices took more from your individual lives than your teenage fantasies could’ve ever predicted when you were in high school.

the weather that afternoon was warmer than the usual autumn days and you couldn’t help but smile thinking that perhaps even nature knew that two halves of the same soul were about to meet again for the first time in eight months or so and was happy that this encounter was going to take place. there was a light breeze running through the city, refreshing the anticipation inside of you and making your hair dance with movements worthy of the highest class of ballet as you opened the heavy dark-wood door before you.

your eyes wandered around the ambience, looking for those large round dark of his you could recognize anywhere, no matter how much time had passed. “sometimes i swear i can see stars reflecting on your eyes, hyun”, you said one time when you were younger right after your first ever heartbreak and your best friend came to your rescue on the parking lot where your former boyfriend left you; jaehyun picked up the tiny broken pieces of your crushed heart only to somehow find a way to glue them back together until you found the strength to heal by yourself, and the musician never asked for anything in return, because that was who he was in the end. it didn’t take long before you smiled from ear to ear at the sight of him.

“hi, jae!” the excitement in your voice was noticeable to anyone close to the table at the almost empty café you were supposed to meet. “you look different. what did you do?”

the boy, at least you thought it was still the same boy you’ve known since childhood, let out a faint laugh as he hugged you tightly against his body, a good amount of centimetres taller than yours. just like he always used to do, jaehyun cupped your face with his right hand — the soft hand, the only one that should touch you, in his mind — and caressed it before messing up your hair while laughing a little more. “you noticed, didn’t ya?”

before you could answer anything properly, your attention was immediately drawn not only to the edge of the brunette’s lips but also to his left ear, and a confused frown took over your face. “is that a lip ring? and you got an industrial! jaehyun, you cut your hair!”

“but do you like it?” he asked raising his eyebrows in a split second before focusing on the menu. the music lover didn’t have the courage to say the real reasons as to why he did all that, at least not at that moment, but the biggest parts of his heart were praying that you enjoyed the modifications to his appearance like his heart was telling him you would, simply because his heart knew you better than his conscious mind did.

“i mean, yeah i do… it makes you look even more of a rockstar now, hyun, you don’t look like the good mama’s boy you always looked like.” with a chuckle, you decided to copy his moves, and turn your gaze back to the menu, even though you already knew what you’d order anyways.

jaehyun opened a smirk but that kind of good humor didn’t reach his dark eyes. he was twenty years old, over fifteen years had passed since the first day he ever saw you before him and the agony of suppressing the deep and unique feelings the musician had towards his best friend had been eating him alive for the majority of those fifteen years; living twenty-four months without having you as close to him as before was the trigger to make the myung open his eyes to the reality he tried to ignore so badly. all he ever wanted was for you to actually pay attention to the lyrics he wrote, to understand that everything you needed to have your heart in a safe and respectful place was to give it to him; ever since he was fourteen years old, jaehyun’s birthday wish when blowing the candles was always the same: for you to love him the same way he loved you. despite the depth and complexity of his feelings, the singer decided to keep it cool for a little longer; the last thing he wanted at that moment was to unconsciously push you away by bombarding you with all the words bottled up inside his heart since the very first day.

“so how’s school?” he asked once the waiter left you two alone after taking your orders. genuine concern and interest filled every word that came out of your best friend’s mouth, as there was no scenario in this world where jaehyun wouldn’t be worried about you.

you shrugged, looking away. “could be better, to be honest. the classes this last semester were three times harder than the previous one… it caught me off-guard.”

the kind-eyed man offered comfort with his speech, which warmed your heart a little bit more: no matter how much time passed or how much jaehyun changed his appearance, he was still the clumsy kid you met at kindergarten and defended from the other mean boys. in an attempt to take your mind off the stress that tool such a heavy tool on you, he playfully asked if at least there was anyone interesting in that fancy university you got yourself into — even though there was also shy and scared anticipation of his part towards your answer, as the thought of you, his muse, his best friend, his soulmate, being in love with someone who didn’t know you nearly as well as he did or that was willing to go the extra mile for you like he was, made his heart sink. even more so when you nodded.

“i mean, yeah… but it’s not going well. at least not like it used to. i haven’t talked to him in over a week or so, since we had this major argument and i needed to catch a break from that behaviour.”

myung watched uneasily when you played with your fingers, trying to escape his gaze. “why didn’t you tell me that, dove?”

“i didn’t want to trouble you with my petty problems, jaehyun. you need to focus on the band and making it out of here.”

when finally your eyes met his dark ones, the musician felt his blood freeze for a second. there was something different in the way you were looking at him, something he wasn’t used to suddenly was making those marvellous eyes of yours look a thousand times more special than normal. myung jaehyun couldn’t tell right there and then — because he was petrified by his own tornado of thoughts and feelings — but your cheeks were burning with a pink shade of embarrassment, only it was because you didn’t really know what to say or do as this was the first time you met your best friend after admitting to yourself that those feelings of care and affection towards him were due to something a lot stronger than just friendship.

“c’mon, y/n… you could never trouble me, dove.” jaehyun chuckled and took your hands between his with such gentleness that your heart began to race faster than any race car. “i’m here for you, okay?”

the following couple of hours went flying by like those leaves in the wind outside the café. your mind was blank and your thoughts, numb, as you tried as hard as you could to not let it show just how confused you were with everything taking over your judgement towards that friendship. you were scared to ruin it and you were terrified of the idea of not having jaehyun around anymore because of something dumb or did or said; but at the same time, much like him although you didn’t know it, your heart ached just from imagining what it would be like if you jumped off that cliff and confessed your feelings.

before you even realised it, the both of you were outside. the hot coffee from before didn’t really do much to keep you from feeling a shiver down your spine as a stronger breeze hit you colder than the ones from before; instead, jaehyun’s embrace felt like a personal fireplace. you couldn’t help but smile with that comparison, but even more so when he asked if would like to see what the studio looked like — with such invitation, the myung hoped it would create a nice setting for him to show you the newest song he wrote. if destiny decided that was the last melody jaehyun were to play to you, then he would do so with an undying smile.

the place was a little dark: deeper shades of brown and grey all around the walls and furniture but the acoustic panels were black and the only form of lighting came either from the computer screens and mixing consoles or from the few led lights on the ceiling above you. it smelled like cigarettes and scented candles in there, but you were too mesmerized by the fact of being in a recording studio for the first time in your life to pay attention to such details. as for jaehyun, he thought the studio was too small, too simple for you to be this enchanted by it, but your excitement brought joy to his heart and it felt like this was heaven for him; you with him in the one place he worked so hard to make his dream come true was what life should be like. this felt natural, and he only prayed that after that night, it would truly be like that forever.

“do you like it, dove?” the brunette asked, biting his lower lip while playing with his ear piercings.

“it’s so cool, hyun! look at all this stuff! what does this button do?” with sparkling eyes, you sat by the mixing consoles and bombarded your friend with a thousand questions per second. laughing, he only shrugged and rested his weight on the headrest above you.

“i don’t really know. taesan knows more about this than i do, i just stick with the guitar.” liar. jaehyun loved to produce as well, but he didn’t want to sound cocky to you so he decided to hold his tongue.

before the boy could say anything to keep you from pressing any buttons you didn’t know what they were for, your finger gently hit one of those and it triggered a recording from the night before. jaehyun had forgotten about it, but before leaving the studio, he didn’t delete the recording of him playing the acoustic guitar and singing the first song he had ever written about you; as the words came out on the speakers, the shame and fear paralyzed him so badly the guitarist couldn’t even stop it from playing anymore. his eyes were closed shut and he didn’t see how a smile took over your lips, that grew with every note because your mind was interpreting the lyrics and you understood what the song was about.

butterflies started a rampage on your stomach and your hands covered your face out of shyness, but the reality was that you felt like the teen version of yourself all over again in a matter of minutes.

“it’s beautiful, jae” you whispered by the time the song ended and you tried as hard as you could not to cry. “tell me about it”

those big, brown eyes you knew like the palm of your hand now stared at you with a feeling you had never seen before. you could feel every breath that escaped your lungs, every beat of your heart pounding against your chest, and every droplet of sweat that ran down your temples like a mustang crossing the grasslands. the entire universe had stopped for that brief moment to watch what would become of these two best friends who were exhausted of hiding their true feelings for one another; with jaehyun’s eyes tracing every little inch of your angel-like face, the repeating recording in the background was nothing compared to the symphony of two unaware hearts colliding into each other. how could you know he felt this way? how come jaehyun never did anything to show you the love prints engraved inside his heart god knew how long? worse than that: why didn’t you see your own feelings before?

“i can’t… i’ve waited too long to say this and now i can’t. i can’t say it with you looking at me like that, dove.” he whispered back and with a trembling hand, touched your face with just his thumb, scared that the roughness on the skin of his hand could scar a perfect face like yours. tears were forming in his eyes as the frustration of being incapable of confessing everything to the love of his life consumed jaehyun on the inside.

“then i’ll say it first: i love you, myung jaehyun.”

caressing his puffy red cheeks, the loving words slipped out of your mouth with such ease it scared you for a quick moment but as you repeated them back to him like a mantra, bringing his face closer to yours every time you did, the weight that had been destroying your shoulders and crushing your heart for the past year was finally gone and all you could think of was how gentle of a soul the boy you fell in love with had.

“i’ve loved you since the very first day, dove… i’ve waited fifteen years to be honoured with the privilege of being the one holding your heart. i swear i won’t ever drop it. your heart is safe with me, your love is safe with me.”