#sometimes i step back and think 'everything i have ever done has been a long chain of mistakes'

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I��ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

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[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Dating After A Toxic Relationship

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had 😊 Remember, requests are open! Be sure to read my rules and please respect that I'm only interested in writing for these characters. Thank you! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher is very vocal. He knows you jump and scare easily, so he always makes a point to say where or if he's going to touch you, if he's upset and why (so that you don't worry you're the reason), when he'll be back, etc. This takes a lot of trial and error between the two of you. Butcher is an angry, violent person. You knew this going into the relationship. There's always a worry it could turn on you, and that's what he fears most: that you'd ever be afraid of him. He reassures you constantly he would never, ever hurt you. He knows all about what your ex did. You wanted to be up front and honest, knowing some of your behaviors might seem strange or out of place. The last thing he ever wants to do is emulate your ex and though it takes a lot of rewiring and assessment of his actions, he's trying to be better for you so that he doesn't lose you.

Hughie hates what your ex has done. Bit by bit, you give him the overview of your relationship, what they were like, and how they treated you. Sometimes you jump or flinch and he's reminded all over again that, despite what he does, there will always be this underlying fear and distrust. It took a long time to date him let alone tell him everything. He's patient and gentle and makes sure you're okay with every step you take further into the relationship. He takes every relationship show regardless of past history. When you see your ex again you have to pull Hughie away, not wanting him to start anything. He can't help it. He looks at them and he sees red. He's filled with disgust and hatred. Hughies always been on the timid side, but the thought of someone hurting you like that boils his blood.

Annie never wants you to feel like you have to hide that kind of thing from her. She knows all about power hungry people who take advantage of others. Still, she can't believe it. You're kind and funny and sweet and you always have everyone's best interest at heart. You know what it's like to get hurt, you wouldn't dare hurt someone else. She knows you don't want any trouble with them, you just want to move on, but she can't help but light up when she sees them. Secretly she goes to them and makes it known if they so much as look at you, even think about you, they're done. She's always asking if what you're doing is okay and wants to be as open as possible about boundaries. You're grateful she likes innocent touching, mostly hand holding, and when you're having a hard time you know she'll grab your hand and squeeze it, reminding you she's always here for you.

M.M knows all about your ex. He was the one to help you get out of that relationship in the first place. Since then you've become really close, so close he's now your boyfriend. After your ex shows up at your work one day, Marvin decides to take things into his own hands. The Boys make a special appearance at their apartment where they make it known they are never to go near you ever again. You have a lot of fears about trusting someone again, especially in a relationship, but M.M. is patient. He never wants you to feel like you have to do something you don't want to or aren't ready for. He's more than okay with taking things slow. He actually prefers it that way. He's extremely protective over you and, unfortunately, are his biggest weakness. If Homelander ever found out about you, M.M. would be done for.

Frenchie met your ex a few times before you broke things off. The way they spoke to you, wanted to control you, all the sings were there. He feels awful that he didn't see it sooner, but you could never blame him. You're just glad you got away from them. Frenchie is attentive and devoted and males sure you're comfortable with every step in your relationship. He offers, jokingly though not jokingly, to have your ex killed when they start sending calls and texts and emails. You assure him it's okay, you'll handle it. He knows you're more than capable, but he's always got a back up plan ready just in case they want to try anything more. He's extremely patient when you decide to tell him. He knows there's more to the story than what you're sharing, but he doesn't push it. He's grateful you shared anything at all. It's a big step and means a lot that you'd trust him.

Kimiko is learning to trust just like you are. You've both been through a lot, but you find a great solace in one another. Kimiko isn't sure who this random person is that shows up looking for you, only that the rest of The Boys are suddenly cagey, angry, and very protective. They're grateful you're not there. When she asks about them, you finally tell her. You dated a while ago and it wasn't a safe relationship. You thought you could get away from them, but they seek you out. They like to know they're in control. She feels awful. You're genuine and smart and sweet. Those terrible things that happened to you only made you softer and, unfortunately, more prone to anxiety and distrust. She leaves it up to you to take the next steps in your relationship. You appreciate more than you could ever put into words. You love her, but you need to take things slow.

Bonus! Homelander killed them a long time ago. The moment you showed up in his life, he knew there was someone who'd hurt you. It takes a long time to tell anyone, let alone him. One day the phone calls and texts and emails just stop. They stop showing up at Vought looking for you. You think you've finally scared them off or perhaps they got bored, but it was actually your new boyfriend. Normally he'd like to boast all about how he tortured them, h9w easy it was to kill them, how stupid they looked when he pulled out all their teeth, but he knows you wouldn't like that, so he keeps it to himself. He knows no one will miss them. You certainly don't. You're sleeping better now and getting more comfortable in your relationship without the constant threat of them showing up or following you. Homelander rests easy knowing they can never hurt you again. He lacks a lot of self-awareness in this department.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Shadows And Sanctuary ~ LMH

⤜ WORD COUNT: 4.6K

⤜ PAIRING: Mafia!Minho x Fem!Reader

⤜GENRE: established relationships, anxiety, overprotective minho, sweet, cute, afraid to lose her WARNING: mentions of violence toward reader (not inflicted by minho!)

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The late-night air was thick as you left work, your part of the city seemed to be experiencing one of the hottest summers known to man and leaving work in the middle of the night didn't even cool you down. The air was thick and hot, making it almost unbearable to breathe in and you almost regret turning your boyfriend's suggestion of taking you out for the week to get to a cooler climate. Your exhaustion from your shift weighed down on you as you headed through the streets toward your car trying to keep your thoughts on your nice long weekend with Minho.

You couldn't wait for it to just be the two of you locked up in his house just cuddling all weekend long. Not that anyone would ever believe that one of the highest-ranking mafia members in the city was as soft as he was but with you? Minho was practically a kitten in your hands rather than the jaguar he had to be out in the streets. You stared down into your bag as you searched through it to find your keys, something you should have done before you got outside. Minho was always telling you to make sure you had everything ready before you got to the car since you never really knew who was walking the streets late at night.

It was a miracle Minho even let you work as it was, he was always telling you how dangerous it was but you sometimes refused to listen to him. Assuming you were safe since the relationship between the two of you was mostly hidden behind closed doors. The only people who knew the two of you were a couple were a close group of his men and one person from work who had caught him waiting for you one night.

"Excuse me, Miss Yln?" Your head shot up from your bag and you glanced around you, turning to the source of the voice to see a man standing there. He had piercing blue eyes and an unsettlingly calm demeanour about him. He was dressed in a tailored suit and had a scar running down the left side of his cheek, setting alarm bells ringing inside of your mind.

"Yes?" You did your best to keep your voice steady with a hint of confidence behind it. The man took a step closer, his eyes never leaving you as he smiled at you, but it did nothing to ease the uneasy feeling you had growing in the pit of your stomach.

"My name is Rhysand Kovac, I believe you might know my name." Your heart pounded in your chest. Minho had mentioned Rhysand a bunch of times, always tense conversations and moments of dread whenever he was brought up and you could feel your stomach sinking. What was he even doing here? Your relationship was a secret, for this reason, you didn't want to risk anybody finding you.

"I have," You managed to say, taking a small step back away from him. Rhysand smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes but you bumped into a man's chest as you stared up to see a bald man staring down at you leaving you completely trapped.

"That saves us a bunch of time then," He chuckles deeply as he looks at you, his hands shoved into his pockets as you stare at him, wishing you'd taken Minho's offer on having a guard with you.

"You see, your boyfriend has left me in a bit of a predicament. He's been causing trouble for me and my associates and I need to get his attention and send a message." Your mouth went dry as you shook your head trying to think of a way to get out of this.

"I'm just a nurse, okay? I don't know anything about anybody's business." You lied but Rhysands expression hardened as he closed the distance between you and him within two strides, his hand gripping onto your arm with such force you knew it was going to bruise.

"I believe you dear, but it's not about what you know." He grumbles at you, his face turning red with anger, his grip tightening so much you are beginning to lose feeling in your arm.

"It's about what you mean to him," He says through gritted teeth, his eyes burning into yours as you whimper at him,

"Please...Please, let me go. I haven't done anything to you," You cried out, doing your best to stay as calm as possible but it was practically impossible now he was holding you in his grip. Rhysand took a deep breath as he leaned in closer, nuzzling his head in your neck.

"You're right, you haven't. But Minho has, and you?" A devilish smirk takes over his face as he stares down at you. He'd been planning this for weeks, watching you, making sure you had no guards at any point and making sure to get your shift schedule from the hospital.

"You're going to make sure he understands the consequences of his actions," Your mind screamed for you to fight, to kick, scream, bite, punch, anything but you couldn't move, completely frozen in place with his grip on your unyielding as you let out a small whimper of discomfort.

"What do you want from me?!" You asked, your voice trembling and it didn't go unnoticed by Rhysand who was smirking and letting out a deep chuckle.

"I need you to give Minho a message," He said, his tone cold and final as he stared down at you,

"If he doesn't comply with my demands, you'll be the one to pay the price," The hand that wasn't gripping you reached up and he cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb over your skin.

"And believe me, I always make good on my threats." With that, he let you go, stepping back as his eyes bored into yours and you felt your stomach churning.

"Now, run and tell him, I'm always watching kitten." The nickname Minho used for you tasted like acid coming from him and you fumbled to unlock your car, slamming and locking the door.

Your hands were shaking so badly you could hardly get the keys into the ignition before you sped off, glancing in the mirror to see Rhysand still standing there, his eyes still on you as he watched you drive off with a calculating expression on his face.

Tears blurred your vision as you navigated the streets, your mind a whirlwind of fear and worry, you knew the way to Minho's like the back of your hand and you didn't care how many traffic laws you broke in order to get there in a hurry.

Minho was practically yawning during the meeting he was having, surrounded by some of his men as they discussed strategies for territorial disputes. To be completely honest, Minho was mostly drowning it all out, looking forward to when you'd eventually come back and meet with him so he could unwind at the weekend.

Never in a million years would he have thought he'd find someone like you, someone who he wanted to take time off work for and spend hours with, forgetting everything around him.

"Changbin you need to tighten security on the east side. The shipments next week are due and I don't want any mishaps like the last time," He grumbled, his voice commanding. As he was about to say something else the door to his office burst open, slamming against the wall and knocking a painting from it. Guns all aimed in your direction as you stared at Minho, tears running down your face.

"Minho!" you cried out, your voice breaking. Minho shot to his feet, the chair knocking over in the process, he'd never seen you so distraught before.

"Yn?" His voice was mixed with concern and shock as he saw you. You'd never burst into his office before, you'd never even walked into the home unannounced.

"If you don't put your guns away I will personally shoot all of you!" He boomed before the men filed their guns away and he moved around the table, bringing you into his arms.

All of Minho's men watched you in stunned silence as you crashed into his arms, your head hiding in his arms.

"He-He was there, he threatened me," you managed to stumble the words out through your sobs but Minho held your body close to his,

"Who, Yn? Who threatened you?" He did his best to keep his voice soft with you, not wanting to scare you anymore than you clearly were. His men all watched closely as they waited for you to answer, some of them ready to jump into action the second a name was uttered from your lips. Minho slowly tilted your chin to look at him, his eyes searching yours as you let fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

"Rhysand." You whispered, your voice trembling almost as though you were scared to speak his name into the universe.

"Rhysand Kovac. He waited...outside the hospital and he said-" You sighed a little as you willed yourself not to cry, to at least get the words out before you broke down again.

"If you don't comply with his demands...it'll be me that pays the price," The room went deathly quiet, the only that could be heard were the men getting ready to kill on their boss's command.  

"Did he hurt you?" Minho's voice remained eerily calm and you looked at your arm,

"He hurt my arm...Minho, I'm scared," There was a little shame in your voice as you admitted it and Minho took a deep breath, his mind racing on where to even begin with it. Over his shoulder his men were assembled, their expressions ranging from concern to barely concealed anger.

"Say the word, boss," Changbin told him, holding his gun in his hand and Minho bit his cheek. As badly as he wanted to retaliate he knew he needed to think with a clear mind.

"Meetings over, get out." He bit out harshly, his men filing out of the room throwing you a worried glance as they walked past you.

Once they were gone, Minho led you over to the sofa inside of the room and sat down beside you, bringing you into his arms again as you began to cry against his chest.

"Shh, it's okay." His whispers, kissing the top of your head as he gently rubs his arms up and down your back,

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," He promised as you clung to him, your body trembling as you stared at the wall.

"He knew me...He knew my name, where to find me...What are we gonna do?" You whispered as you finally pulled back from his embrace, your eyes finding his as he closed his eyes for a second. His mind was flooded with thoughts, everything he wanted to do. The image of Rhysands cold, calculating eyes burned into his memory.

"I'll take care of it." his voice was steady despite his anger and you watched him closely. You'd never wanted to know what his plans were, since staying out of it was always better but this time you wanted to know what he planned.

"I promise, I won't let anything happen to you," He presses a kiss to your head as you cuddle into him. The fear of losing you twisted like a knife in his cut, he wasn't going to let Rhysand win.

"From now on, you're never alone. I'll have my best men watching you, protecting you. And I'll deal with that scumbag, I'll make sure he regrets ever even thinking of touching you." You nodded your head, your trust in him unwavering,

"Okay...Just be careful," you begged as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours softly.

"I promise." He whispered, holding your hand as you cuddled closer to him, your mind returning to that dark place where you saw Rhysand but Minho's was already coming up with a way to destroy him.

It had almost been a week since your run-in with Rhys and it was safe to say you were starting to feel exhausted from looking over your shoulder. Every moment you expected him to come for you, to break through your armed guards and do something but nothing ever happened.

You sat in the window of the hospital break room and stared down at the city. Ever since the encounter Minho had insisted on showing protection, assigning ten of his men to be with you at all times. It felt suffocating at times, everywhere you turned there were guards, outside your apartment, following you to work, even outside the hospital during your shifts. You knew Minho meant well but the constant presence of his men was a dreadful reminder as to why they were there. Sighing a little you began to make your way to go and see some of your patients, the guards following you closely.

"Can you get Minho here? Please," You begged as you stared down at one of his men, his eyes cold as he stared back at you, reaching for his phone and calling his boss instantly.

Minho made his way to the hospital, determined to see you after you'd practically begged his men to get him there. As he entered your office, he was met with a concerned look from you Patients were asking you to be taken off their cases and you were almost down to none.

“Min, this is too much,” you said softly, running your hands over your face.

“I can’t breathe with all these men around me all the time. I know you’re trying to keep me safe, but…” Minho crossed the room and took your hands in his, he knew it was probably too much but he couldn't breathe if it meant leaving you unprotected. The thought of something happening to you was clouding his mind and he couldn't focus on anything. Every night he went to sleep his mind was filled with nightmares about something happening to you.

“Baby, I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice filled with a desperation that mirrored his nightmares, images of you killed in a million different ways flashed in his mind.

“I keep seeing you in danger, and it’s driving me insane. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” You'd heard about his nightmares, you'd been there when he had them but it didn't make it easier for you. You squeezed his hands, your eyes softening.

“I know, Min. I know you’re scared. But this isn’t the way. We need to find a balance. I can’t live in fear, and neither can you.” Minho nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady his thoughts. There had to be a space between 10 men watching you that he could use.

“You’re right. I just… I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.” His face scrunched together and you reached up and cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. While you were terrified of Rhysand you couldn't live every day around so many men, you needed some space.

“We’ll figure it out together,” You said firmly, your eyes filled with promise as you watched him closely.

“But you have to trust that we can get through this. You can’t protect me from everything, babe. And that’s okay.” He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if to ward off the lingering fears from his nightmare.

“I love you, Yn,” he whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you.

“I’ll find a way to make this right. I promise.” His men had been searching for Rhysand ever since the night he'd grabbed you but it was like he'd gone off the radar and disappeared completely.

"I'll find him and end this." He promises, his words said with such confidence you truly believe him.

The hospital was unusually quiet that night as you walked through the halls that night, you'd picked up extra shifts needing the money and you were starting to wish you hadn't. You moved through the dimly lit corridors, your footsteps echoing softly on the polished floors. Most of the patients were asleep, and the usual hustle and bustle had settled into an eerie calm. Despite the quiet, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you.

You made your way to the nurses' station, where a couple of your colleagues were finishing up paperwork as they glanced up at you. They exchanged tired smiles and small talk, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days. Minho had reluctantly scaled back the number of guards at the hospital, allowing you some semblance of normalcy, but tonight you felt their absence acutely. You only had the one guard now who had gone out to go and get you something to eat, leaving you alone and unprotected.

"Yn, can you check on Mr Thompson in Room 312? He requested some water," one of the nurses asked as you tiredly nodded your head, trying to shake the uneasy feeling from you. The hospital was supposed to the a safe space, it wasn't as though Rhysand could walk right through the door.

"Sure, no problem," You whispered your reply forcing a smile as you picked up a water pitcher and a cup. You walked down the hallway, the lights flickering slightly as you passed not easing the feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. When you reached Room 312, you knocked gently before pushing the door open. The room was dimly lit, and for a moment, it seemed empty, the curtain was pulled around the bed inside of the room.

"Mr. Thompson?" You called out softly, stepping further inside frowning when you had no response. The door clicked shut behind you, and you spun around to find herself face-to-face with Rhysand. He stood by the door, his eyes cold and calculating, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

"Good evening, Yn," Rhysand said, his voice smooth and menacing. Your heart raced, fear gripping you as you instinctively stepped back, the water pitcher slipping from your hands and shattering on the floor, splashing up your legs and cutting your skin a little.

"What are you doing here?" You demanded, your voice trembling as you looked at him, fumbling behind you for the nurse's button. Rhysand merely smirked at you and took a step forward, his presence dominating the small room.

"I came to deliver a message," he said calmly.

"Minho seems to have misunderstood my previous warning. I thought a more personal touch might be necessary." Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out. You glanced towards the emergency call button on the wall, but Rhysand noticed and shook his head, tutting at you.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his smile widening. "You see, I can be quite persuasive."

"What do you want?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, you knew it wouldn't be long until your guard came back to find you missing and you prayed he'd find you quickly.

"I want Minho to understand that he cannot defy me without consequences," He replied, his tone darkening. "And you, my dear, are the perfect leverage." He reached his hand out, running his hand over your cheek and smirking down at you. You felt a wave of anger hit you.

"Minho will never give in to you," You said defiantly, your eyes burning into his. "You’re wasting your time."

"Call him," He says through gritted teeth, reaching for the knife in his pocket as he holds it up to your neck, way past the point of playing nice with you.

"I SAID CALL HIM!" He screamed, you flinched reaching for your phone in your pocket. Your hands shook as you dialled Minho's number, your stomach sinking as you felt the cold blade of the knife on your throat. It rang once, twice, and then his voice came through, filled with concern.

"Yn? Are you okay?" He asked, sensing your distress immediately.

"Minho, he's here. Rhysand is here and he's holding-," You were cut off by the cold knife,

"A knife to her pretty little throat, I suggest you get down here before I cut her into tiny little pieces, Minho." Was all Rhysand said before smashing your phone onto the wall, your eyes meeting Rhysands as you felt tears slipping from your eyes?

The hospital corridors were eerily silent as Minho hurried through them, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger, God it felt like it had taken him years to get here. Your frantic phone call still echoed in his mind, replaying in his mind over and over again.

As he neared the room where you had been. Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to stay focused. He moved quickly, silently, towards the room.

The door was slightly ajar, and through the crack, he could see Rhysand standing inside, holding you against the wall with a knife to your throat. Your eyes were wide with terror, your breaths coming out in nothing but shallow gasps, Minho felt his stomach churn at the thought of you completely unprotected in there.

“Every time you try to leave, I’ll make sure you regret it,” Rhysand snarled, pressing the blade closer to your skin but not quite breaking it yet. Minho felt a cold fury rise within him. He couldn’t let this happen. He had to act quickly, decisively. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open with a swift kick, his gun drawn and aimed at Rhysand who tightened his hold on you.

“Let her go, Rhysand,” Minho ordered, his voice deadly calm as he stared over at you both, his eyes flicking over at you to make sure you were okay. Rhysand glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he saw Minho.

“Ah, Minho!” he said with a twisted smile, your stomach twisting as you glanced to see your boyfriend holding the gun.

“Just in time. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“Step away from her,” Minho growled, taking a step forward.

“Now.” Rhysand grip on the knife tightened, and he pressed it harder against your throat, making you wince and let out a small whimper, pleading with Minho to help you.

“One more step, and she dies,” he warned. “Do you really want to test me?” He growled out. Minho's eyes flicked to yours, filled with fear and pleading with him. He had to be careful, and precise.

“You won’t get out of here alive if you hurt her,” He said, his voice low and threatening, if he killed you Minho would torture him, painfully, dragging it on for weeks.

“Think about it, Rhysand. There’s no escape for you.” Rhysand only laughed a cold, bitter sound.

“You think I care about escape? This is about making you suffer. Watching you lose the one thing you care about.” He said as he traced the knife over your face, a small cut forming on the left side of your cheek as he smirked. Minho's hand tightened around his gun.

“Yn, close your eyes,” he said softly. your eyes widened as you realised what he was going to do, you had complete faith in him but it didn't stop you from being scared. Slowly you closed your eyes, your body trembling.

In one swift motion, Minho fired his gun. The shot echoed loudly in the small room making your head pulse and your heart beat rapidly. Rhysand staggered back, a look of shock on his face as he dropped the knife, you heard the clatter and kicked it away from you, turning to see Rhysand. He clutched his chest where the bullet had hit, blood spreading rapidly across his shirt. The nurse inside of you wanted to reach out but you remembered what he'd done to you and Minho. Minho rushed forward, catching you as you stumbled away from Rhysand. He held you tightly, his heart pounding with relief.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s over.” He whispered, cradling you closer to him. Rhysand fell to the floor, gasping for breath. His eyes met Minho's one last time, filled with hatred and disbelief.

“You…you’ll never be safe,” he choked out before the light faded from his eyes. Minho didn’t even spare him another glance. All his attention was on you, as you shook in his arms.

“Are you okay?!" He panicked, running his fingers over the small cut on your cheek, you leant into his touch and whimpered,

"I was so scared, Minho. I thought... I thought he was going to—" You couldn't get the words out as bile rushed to your throat, Minho wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

"Shh, it's over," He murmured, stroking her back softly, his heart racing.

"He can’t hurt you anymore. I promise you’re safe now." He held you close to him, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body as you cried against him. The fear that had gripped him since Rhysand's first threat began to fade, replaced by a fierce determination to protect you at all costs. There was no chance he was going to let anything happen to you ever again.

Minho guided you out of the room, keeping you close as they made their way through the hospital. His men were already moving through the building, ensuring there were no more threats but you couldn't take your eyes off Minho.

As you reached the entrance, he turned to his most trusted lieutenant, Changbin.

“Get Yn home, and make sure she’s safe,” he ordered. “I have some things to wrap up here.” He glanced back at the hospital and Changbin nodded but you hadn't moved yet. Your arm was still wrapped with Minho's

“Min, please be careful,” You said softly, almost too scared to be away from him again but he nodded his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead,.

“I will be,” He promised. “I’ll see you at home.” He whispered before Chagnbin led you back to the car.

A Year Later*

The early morning sun filtered through the curtains, making you stir and whimper a little in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. For a moment, you simply lay there, savouring the peace and quiet. It had been a long journey to reach this point. But a gentle kiss on your forehead made you smile. You turned to see Minho lying beside you,

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice soft and tender, as you cuddled into his chest.

"Good morning," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.

"Do you have to go into the office today?" You asked, snuggling closer to him not wanting him to leave you alone again. Minho chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek,

"Not today. Today, I'm all yours." Your smile widened. The two of you had both worked hard to carve out moments like these, moments of normalcy and peace. You'd quit working at the hospital after the incident and mostly stayed at home, patching up any of his men who needed some help with wounds.

"I was thinking," Minho said, his tone becoming more serious. "Maybe it's time we took that trip we’ve been talking about. Just the two of us. Somewhere far away from all of this." He gestured around his room and your eyes widened a little

"Where were you thinking?" You ask, cuddling into him as you both begin to dream of your holiday destination, just enjoying the calm of being together.

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[eveningepiphany]

pirates gold, H.S series part 4

series masterlist

my masterlist<3

summary: another day on the ship with your captor turns into him teaching you a thing or two about the pirate life. but as controversy’s of your past come up, somehow the captain and the princess wind up back in his bed- with anything but sleep on their minds.

warnings: mentions of violence, talk of unconsensual past experiences (not descriptive!) swearing, SMUT: f!rec oral and fingering, m!rec oral with slight edging, p in v penetration, dirty talk, lots of sex, anyways oopsie enjoy

a/n: i genuinely can’t believe how long this took to write and publish. thank you all for your patience, i like to think the sex they have makes the three million year wait worth it. can’t wait to hear what you all think<3

———

Nothing can prepare a person for realising they don't know themselves as well as they thought.

There's a mixture of disappointment, shame, dread. But sometimes, deep down—despite not ever admitting it to oneself— there's can be an element of excitement.

Not always, but occasionally. There’s that moment of wonder, who really am i?

It’s a bewildering spiral of good and bad feelings, you hardly know left from right, or up from down.

Rarely did you do things for yourself purely for the sake of it. Back at home there was someone for everything, not only to do things for you, but to make sure you weren't stepping out of line.

You couldn’t experiment. No finding out who you are deep down. There was never the chance for self discovery.

Now, you’ve landed in a situation where somehow you’re supposed to be more trapped. Yet you don’t think you’ve ever been more free.

No more straight posture at the dining tables of the banquet hall, being left to sit with a cautious mouth for hours upon hours. Engage in colourless and dull conversation while you imagined freedom.

Funny to think of it now… the picture in your head. Neatly pulled back hair. A spotless dress without a hunch of what was past the waters you stared out at every night. It was like trying to explain what something tasted like, yet having never tasted it yourself.

You knew nothing of freedom.

Not until you felt the sea nearly swallow you, the wind whip your hair a mess, the heart in your chest pounding as you ran out of Sintir— a place you’d only ever seen on a map.

Indulging in late night caressing with a pirate, something that selfishly bled into early morning, in his own bed. Hands on bare skin, hands in hair, hands wherever they could feasibly touch without crossing some sort of invisible line. Definitely not something that would’ve flown back in Kelna.

Yet that is exactly what you did a few days ago, and your head has been a complete mess since. After you stooped as low as to beg the Captain of this very ship to stay with you, he did just that. For how long, you dont even know. Long enough a crew mate of his was rapping his fist upon the locked door, calling out in bemused annoyance.

“You're either so hungover you cant move or tied up in there by our supposed-to-be prisoner.”

The heave of his chest underneath your head is ingrained into your memory. A strong huff, perhaps annoyed, but something you hope was from sadness. A regret for having to leave at any point, for not being able to stay forever.

"Free of any ties, Tanner. Just... tired." He calls back, tone rather harsh.

You'd moved yourself off him, "I'm embarrassed i didnt think to do such a thing."

The quip lacked all venom it used to, and you scolded yourself internally. You were screwed.

---

The days since were as bipolar as the weather at sea. You craved him, his touch, his voice of silk. It was like a drug. But you knew better for yourself.

After the hangover wore off, and the reality of what you had done set in. You forced distance between the two of you. He saw it coming, even he played along with it.

You two never stopped the game. You just went from a chess piece on his board to being the person opposite him.

Meant to be playing to win.

Up on deck, now the sun has come back out, everyone is saying the good weather is to return from now. Unsure whether to trust it— like many other things on this ship. You keep your gaze trained on the distance, where the waves ripple and swell. There is still a gusty wind, but the sun is hot on your skin.

Slowly, you chew on the fish roll you made in the kitchen with Zayn. He is a gifted cook, you on the other hand, are far from it. Used to it ‘being done for you’ he'd scorned playfully.

He'd shown you a few things this past week, stuff you feel envigored learning about. Knowing how to live independently for yourself is freeing, just as you knew it would be.

Wiping the crumbs off the sides of your lips with the back of your hand, you wonder how you are to go back to living the way you used to.

Before you could spiral into that rabbit hole, someone interrupts.

"Y/N." Harry said, his tone unreadable.

Tearing your gaze from the far horizon, your eyes met his.

The purple silk top covering him today has a typical amount of ruffles for a fashion heavy pirate. He looks tragically good in purple.

"Yes, Captain." You kept your own voice level.

The past week your walls have gone back up, albeit, haphazardly. You still struggled to stay on your side of the bed. And the few brief moments the connection between the two of you has festered in the air, and you’ve allowed it to linger.

Or better said, the moments you didn’t have the strength to resist it.

Like brushing past him in the kitchen yesterday, his hand coming to your waist as you attempt to squeeze through the gap. He wasn’t holding you, but you stopped dead in your tracks.

For but a second you both sucked a breath in. No longer than that, and then you cleared your throat and pushed past him.

Either way, he's noticed it, obviously. Feeling like he should regret the night after taking you into Sintir. But he selfishly cant.

He can’t regret it when the sensation of your skin is burnt into the pads of his fingers. No part of him is strong enough to forget the way your body felt pressed against him, leg thrown over his waist and curled into his chest.

Yet, despite all of that, back to the game you both went, head first. Your bickering was more contained, but his title of mean pirate was attempted to be restored in your mind.

Maybe he couldn’t forget the imprint of your skin against his, but he did love a good game.

Who was he not to feed into that?

A chuckle rumbles in his chest, “Captain, aye? We back to that are we. Two can play at this game Princess.”

The name makes your stomach stir, a small punch of adrenaline tingling in your limbs. How far can you push this before someone gets hurt?

He leans down to you, the blouse is loose on him and falls at the front. He’s eye level with you but your gaze locks onto the view of his chiseled chest between swirls of purple fabric, the tattoos you can vividly remember tracing with your fingers.

His tan skin is glistening between his pecs… a light sweat over him, making your mouth dry.

Suddenly his hand lifts your chin, “my eyes are up here, dove.”

“Don’t be disgusting.” You scoff, despite being caught in the act.

“What is it you want. Why are you pestering me?”

“Such a princess thing t’say, that im bothering you. You’re on my ship, need I remind you.” His fingers tap your cheek with a smirk.

“Need I remind you, that’s not to any choice of my own.” Your voice is indignant, and you pull your chin from his grasp, turning your face away with a scowl.

He’s pressing your buttons, winding you up exactly the way he knows how.

“Well, I haven’t heard much about how deeply y’long to be back home.”

It works a charm, because you’re quick to snap back at him.

“That is none of your business. And frankly I would rather keep that matter to myself than share it with the people who are responsible for kidnapping me.”

He loves hearing your accent when you argue like that, the pompous royal tone returning briefly to you. So stuck up, said always like a challenge.

Letting out a breathy laugh, his hands suddenly coming to under your arms. He hoists you off the floor like you’re but a parcel of feathers, standing you upright.

“Won’t you leave me be!” The raise in your voice causes a few crew to turn their head at the scene.

“‘M trying to make y’useful ‘round here.” He chides, his hand snakes down to one of your wrists, a smirk pulling at his lips.

The feeling takes you back to the first day on the ship merely weeks ago, when that was the only way you got around.

His hand wrapped around the rope tied around them.

You think back to when you threw yourself off the ship, When he swam out to retrieve you, when his hips pinned you to hull of the ship and he cut the ties free.

“Instead of jus’ leeching our supplies,” his voice draws your attention away from the tan hand wrapped around your wrist. “And laying around not carrying y’weight.”

“Maybe you can just starve me then. That way I won’t be taking away from your precious supplies.”

“So much sass on y’today,” The smirk that comes across his face is devilish, walking you over to the bass of a mast, “c’mere”

He pulls you infront of him, his chest to your back. Forcing himself not to take any notice to your figure, the white blouse covering your top half and the black fitted pants that are tight around your bottom.

“See this rope, how it’s worn?”

Your head turns over your shoulder to catch his eyes, and your heart lurches in your chest as you clock how close his face suddenly is to you. The green in his eyes is captivating in sunlight. With his captivating eyes burning into you, his mouth is still holding a smirk.

You give a swift, forced nod, but you’re not even looking. You’re pretty sure you haven’t even blinked.

This causes a laugh to bubble from his chest, suddenly he’s leaning in.

What the fuck?

Your brain is racing as his body leans towards you, and face is inching closer.

There is no way he’s about to kiss you.

Suddenly he’s placing something in your hands, and his body is going back to its original stance.

He was handing you the rope.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and he’s surely seen the flush that’s spread across it. It’s making you overheat, and your lungs are rising up and down in your chest ten times as fast compared to just five minutes ago.

What is wrong with me?

You snap your gaze down, hoping that your hair falls enough to cover your flaming cheeks.

“It’s…” your voice falters— great— you’re so embarrassed right now.

“Princess, has a cat got your tongue?” He chides with sarcasm.

“It’s frayed, feels weak, yes.” You nod hastily.

“Good girl,” he watches you purse your lips at his silky praise, and focuses on purely the amusement riling you up stirs in him. Not any of the other emotions that arise.

“Y’gonna help me replace it.”

“Like hell i am. Do you want your ship to fall apart?” You scowl, there is no way you can do that without something going terribly wrong.

“That’s why I’m teaching you, y’could do with a bit of hands-on work.”

Your eyes trail up to what the rope connects to, it’s holding down a part of the sail, helping to pull it taut.

“Taking this off won’t do much since we aren’t on too rough of waters, so it’s a good time t’change it.”

He steps a few feet away from you and retrieves a wad of fresh intact rope. A lot of it too, metres upon metres.

Your body remembers the sensation of it wrapped around your hands and your feet with a slight shiver.

“Firstly, we’re gonna untie and remove the old one.”

“Harry, I don’t know what im doing.” You whine, wishing to be anywhere but here, immediately frustrated.

He tuts, dropping the pile of new rope down next you both, “Zayn did tell me y’were bad at this.”

“Excuse you?” You scoff, shocked at his audacity. Slightly offended.

He steps back behind you, ushering you forward so you’re close to the metal bar that the worn tie is wrapped around.

“Told me y’don’t like being bad at things. Don’t like not knowing how to do stuff.” His voice is smug, like that is a fatal flaw.

“I—“ you’re so annoyed right now.

“I am not!”

“Y’defensiveness only proves m’point.”

You don’t even know what to say to him right now. Truthfully— ego aside— you don’t know if that’s how you get. You have gone laps around the sun without knowing this kind of stuff about yourself.

In defiance, you don’t admit this to Harry. But you stay silent as his hands reach for the knot in front of you.

“Now, princess. Look at this.”

“I’m looking.” You huff.

“Where do you think we’re gonna start untying this, what kind of knot do y’think this is?”

“I have half a clue of what kind of knot this is, Captain.”

“This is a water bowline, angel.” The words mean little to you, but your stomach does a weird squeeze at his confident words, the way his accent makes the word angel sound.

“I’m going to guess this loose end here,” Your right hand extends out, tugging at the few inches of rope that extends out the middle of the knot, “has something to do with untying it.”

He smiles at the way you’re starting to soften at the idea of what’s happening. Yes, you’re still standing tense and your tone is still veering on irate. But you’re indulging, playing along at the least.

A small sense of pride bubbles through him, “Smart girl, it does.”

“You’ll see these knots everywhere on the ship, in many different forms. They’re nice and secure, can take a lot of tension but aren’t hard to tie or untie.”

“This here,” his fingers trace a loop in the top of the knot, “is what you’re gonna pull on first.”

You grab it and he brings his hand to your waist. The action makes you flush as you try and focus.

“Fold it forward, this is gonna loosen it against the standin’ end of the rope.”

You don’t know what that means, but you pull the part he’s directing you to towards yourself, applying a bit more pressure when you see it needs it.

He hums in approval, and your lips purse together, “Now that loose end, feed it out of the wrap in the middle there.”

You do that, and he reaches forward to add tension on the upper section of the rope as you now use both hands to untie the rest of the knot— unhooking it.

“Tha’s it. Now we can replace it, and I’ll show you how to tie the knot.” He takes the old rope and figure 8’s it around a metal hold, so it’s still holding the sail.

He sees your curious eyes at his action, and explains, “We could cut it, but just incase it’s better to have it handy until y’know you’re ready to replace it.”

You nod, and he grabs the fresh rope and sets it up for you.

Grabbing your hands, he walks you through the process first himself, then he unties it to make you do it.

You curse for the first few minutes as you try to tie it properly, but once he guides you again, you’re staring at the tied knot.

“There you go, look at that princess. Jus’ tied ya first water bowline.” He comments proudly, and you can’t help but smile.

“Thanks…” you feel good, accomplished.

“I’m gonna secure it in the eyelet up there now, y’stay down here.”

He leaves you down there. All while you watch him bring the sail in, so he can reach it from the mast. Rope tied to his belt loop, he unties the old one and lets it drop.

You’d stepped back so it could fall without nearly taking you out by the head. Staring with hardly enough shame as Harry worked his fingers to create a new knot through the eyelet of the sail.

His brow furrowed in concentration, unbothered by the metres between him and the deck of the ship as he balanced entirely unsuspended.

His strong thighs are tensed as he holds himself stable, black pants look good on him.

He cut the excess rope off with a dagger and climbed down with ease. Unbelievable how good he can look doing something like that.

Once he’s back down, he walks over to where you stood and admires the new rope alongside you. You aim to pretend you hadn’t been checking him out the whole time.

Nudging you with his shoulder, “And who said princesses couldn’t learn pirate things.”

“I’ve learnt plenty of pirate things.” You state.

“So, what are you, more princess or pirate then, dove?”

With a frown your eyes slant to him, trying to search in his gaze the motive behind the question. So many tricks are up his sleeve, he never fails to remind you that.

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

His eyes scan your face, flickering over you. A tick of silence, and then he curtly nods, “Well, they say practice makes perfect, so don’t think we’re done yet.”

He intends on spending this afternoon with you, regardless of what other things he should be doing.

“I thought it was my turn to teach you something.”

“What? Like how to manage my table manners?”

You can only roll your eyes.

And to be fair, you did plenty of that as the blue sky bled into sunset.

“No, you dolt. If you picked up that fork first they’d barrate you on the spot.”

“Whatever,” he’d sighed, “I find getting your hands dirty with a good meal is the only way to eat something.”

The evil smirk on his face as he’d said that was all telling.

The two of you did both lots of thinking and lots of talking. Lapsing between periods of comfortable silence and discussion.

A part of you wondered if this was his tactic to pry your guard back down. You hated yourself for letting it work, the fact you somewhat allowed him into the works of your brain again.

After finishing the last rope he wanted to replace, you’d stretched out your shoulders.

"Do y'feel accomplished?" His own arms reaching above his head.

"I feel productive, which is rare that happens.”

He starts walking in the direction towards the communal quarters, in presumption that you'd follow.

You do just that, wasting no time matching his pace.

"Thanks. For showing me." The words are hard to push pass your lips, they're clunky and almost shy. But they pack the same level of meaning.

He stops the few steps in front of you, right next to the wall of the communal quarters. He turns around so his full front is facing you. The sun has dipped below the horizon of the sea, the warm golden hour glow sinking with it.

Now it's lingering in that space of inbetween, where it’s not quite dark, but not light enough to class as sunset still.

You can almost relate.

His green eyes have pinned you to a stop as well, your hands falling to the front of your white blouse. The wind is toying with the loose material, gently, your fingers ring the ruffled bottom that cuts off midway down your ribcage.

He's been forcing himself to hold his eyes strictly to your face, not anywhere near the sweetheart neckline thats dipping to show the swell of your chest.

Can’t believe I bought that for her and thought I’d be able to not stare, he thinks internally.

"You dont have t'thank me." He answers truthfully. Despite the fact he may have mocked your lack of gratitude he wholly believes you did him a favour today.

"You showed me how to do something. Something useful, and practical." You remark cautiously, watching your tone doesn't give away too much sentiment, "I cant tell you the last time i've had that."

"Y'can read right?" he chuckles, stepping forward.

"I went to school Harry."

His eyes rolled playfully, finally breaking off you, making you feel like you can suddenly inhale again.

"What do they even teach you there."

"Table manners, exactly the knowledge I so kindly imparted on you earlier." you dryly joked, despite it being entirely true.

"How to talk, how to act, what to do, what not to do." You sigh as you think back on it, walking to go lean against the wall.

"Ooo” he hums, intrugied, "what not to do?"

You prattle off the first ones that come to mind, "Dont get caught lying, it brings dishonour. Dont curse, it displays immaturity and impurity,” a pause, and you scoff— one drilled into any royal in the court, “dont engage in any premarital relations."

His pupils are the only part of him that reacts at the mention of the third rule you listed, they dilate and almost shake with the intensity he’s staring at you with.

A shrug of your shoulders, "That one gets surpassed all the time though.”

At your words, his brows twitch, he thinks you're talking about yourself. The look that passes over his face is unmissable. You can't pinpoint the exact emotion, and honestly, neither can he.

You are old enough to make your own decisions, he reasons. Old enough to decide if you want to...

His brain crafts a million different scenarios. They flash past faster than he can keep up with. Lingering heavily on whether or not it was consensual.

You had spoken about how men in Kelna acted around you. Whispering disgusting things, touching you. He thinks they’d be people similar to Garret, dirtbags who would’ve forced anything if they wanted it bad enough. The thought makes him livid, to his very bones.

"You look worried." You comment ambiguously, toying dangerously with the curiosity surrounding his reaction.

When he doesn’t reply, you take it a step further,

"Does my value decrease if i cant be labelled as a pure, untouched little angel?" Your tone is sarcastic, but the second the words fall from your mouth, he reacts.

His whole body tenses where he stands, and he steps closer to you.

"Y/N." A stern but bordering protective voice comes from him, a way he’s not spoken before. "Do not ever talk ‘bout yourself like that on this ship, or I swear..."

His throat tightens with anger, voice faltering and eyes fluttering with tension. A hand grabs the wall you're standing near. Knuckles white as his fingers dig into it, "I swear t’god, it makes me want to break something."

"If somethin’ happened to you in that fucking ring of psychotic royals—” He spits it out like the thought disgusted him, “You're a human being, not a slab of meat."

It’s not often he feels the need to genuinely punch something. Someone. But right now anyone that has ever done something to you is on his immediate black list.

In the back of his brain, he recognises that in your eyes he’s equally a bad person for what he’s done to you. He stands here a hypocrite.

Furious at anyone whose ever hurt you, yet being the very person that’s holding you somewhere against your will.

The tension rolls around in your stomach, almost making it ache with the sudden anxiety. You’re so utterly confused with how to feel in this situation you force your mouth to move,

"For the record, i was not talking about myself." The clarification comes out meek despite trying to keep your tone unbothered.

He doesn’t attempt to hide his feelings, face contorted into a sneer, “Wouldn't put it past those pigs."

“No one did that to me.” You amend again, this time, your own tone stern.

“Alright Y/N, what did they fucking do to you then?” His question forces you relive every unwanted advance you’ve had to uncomfortably sit through.

Every ‘accidental’ hand placement, every provocative comment directed to you, every situation that made bile from your stomach rise into your throat.

Somehow, you find it in you to argue back, even though you don’t believe Kelna is even a shred better than a ship of pirates, "Its not like im safe in your world either."

It’s clear this is his tipping point.

The heart in his chest clenches and his body is moving before he can register it.

Because suddenly, the space surrounding you is being entirely filled, he grabs you with his hands. There’s not a sliver of violence in it at all, but it does make you jump.

Regardless, he sinks his hands into your hair. He can’t help it, curling them gently into the soft strands at the nape of your neck.

Despite how pissed he is, his touch is nothing but gentle.

It causes you to shudder, unsure if it’s out of unease or somehow a little bit of pleasure— the feeling his ringed fingers graze across the nerves that typically lay behind your hair untouched.

They ping around in your muddled brain, electromagnetic signals making you light headed. It’s overwhelming, how did this even happen?

Even with the soft touch of his fingers, the look behind his hard gaze makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I…” you try to make words, yet nothing comes out. Hands against skin are all you can make sense of.

It’s tangible, they’re there. If your strip everything else away, it’s just someone holding you.

Someone touching you softly. Someone who you—deep down, no matter how hard you try to feel otherwise—are okay with touching you.

You can swallow that pill. If only you could make it that simple, of course.

“Harry.”

One thing he’s learnt since having you around is that he can’t handle the way his name sounds when it comes out of your mouth.

Especially not with that whined tone. When it falls from your lips like a plea.

He can’t seem to find the words either. Your feet are planted between his and your own hands are braced on his hips.

“Dove, y’can’t keep bloody doin’ this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” his hands slide to your face, they cradle your cheeks, “Harry im just standing here. I’m telling you the truth.”

His face feels so close to yours, you swear you can feel the breath that passes through his lips meet your own.

Intimate almost, if you think about it hard enough.

“I don’t care about that, I care about you.”

“You can’t do this to me!” You whine, pushing his hands away, stumbling back. Breaking that connection by force if you have to.

You don’t remember how you ended up like this, with your blood pulsing in your ears and your chest heaving so hard your ribs could break.

Exasperated, “I am fine! I am okay!”

He is at a loss for words. You are so complex, so intricate. His curiosity for you deepens, even when he thinks it can’t anymore.

“I do not need any kind of pity, there is nothing to pity!”

“They made you not trust people.” He says with disgust.

You cant believe he can say that when he literally kidnapped you. And although he’s right to a degree, this experience hasn’t been great for your trust issues either.

“This world made me not trust people.” You gesture out to the ship around you, in sheer disbelief, “I’m standing on a fucking boat in the middle of nowhere because nothing is okay!”

Yelling against the wind, “Because the only thing people care about is themselves, and what they can gain from exploiting others.”

“I am a fucking object to everyone I’ve ever met.”

A part of his heart cracks hearing this, he has to physically restrain himself from stepping closer to you.

Space, give her space, his brain urges him— despite his physical body begging to do the opposite.

“Y/N,” his voice attempts to stay level. He watches your reaction.

Like a timid yet fired up animal, your hair is being thrown by the wind, pupils wild.

“There’s nothin’ i can say that will justify any of this. I know tha’.”

“There’s not.” You snapped, eyes threatening an emotion you can’t imagine letting out around him.

Crying is another thing frowned upon in the court, not unless the circumstance is so dire it warrants it.

You think for a second that you’re going to have the strength to pull yourself together, but suddenly, a wet and salty tear slips past your waterline.

The humiliation inside you that followed the single tear that just slid down your cheek would be enough to crush a grown man.

You knew he’d seen it, your face is flaming with embarrassment.

“This— this conversation is over.” You curtly reply, voice worn as you force out a tone reserved for Kelna.

The way you’re speaking to him like an associate causes him to move, “Y/N, stop—“

But your feet are suddenly moving, “Do not follow me.”

The warning is clear, he hesitates into a stop. Debating what to do.

Give you space or force you to stay in his company?

The conflicting thoughts on his face are clear.

Yet he swallows, and nods.

Then you turn around and walk away.

———

He forced himself to wait an hour. An excruciatingly long one.

After he watched you walk away, he went into where his crewmates were. Predicatably, they were sharing pints and throwing darts. The room was warmly lit, filled with chatter that echoed inside the dark wooden walls. A few of the boys asked where you were as Harry passed them. He could only lie.

“Tired after working.” Was his chosen reply, hoping now was the time more than ever that the crew just took his word for something.

“Probably the hardest she’s ever worked aye?” Tanner drunkenly joked to him, patting his back and throwing another sip of beer back.

Harry had to refrain from shooting him a look. Despite it being something he’d likely say himself, right at that moment, all he felt was worry for you. Even a shred of defensiveness, but that’s a feeling he has to shove down for the moment.

Making way to the cupboards that held their fair share of staple pirate beverages, he pulled a metal flask out and leaned against the bar top.

He forced himself to act as though he was unbothered, and that he was interested in the games of darts unfolding.

However his brain was heavily preoccupied,

Is she okay? Did I do the right thing letting her have time to herself? Is she mad at me?

Questions ran on loop, running a hand through his curls he struggled to reason with himself.

A hand was placed on his back, that interrupted his spiralling thoughts as he sipped at the flask of whiskey. A short sideways glance revealed his blonde haired crew mate.

“Y’seem off.” He quietly remarked.

Niall, often unserious, was surprisingly good at knowing when something was up. And even better at handling it discretely.

Due to that, Harry let out a short sigh through his nose before admitting a shred of truth.

“May have struck a cord with her.”

“Go too far with something, mate?” He asks quietly, curiously.

“No,” he frowns, unsure if he’s insinuating something else, he quickly clarifys, “was talking about the courts, got her upset.”

Niall’s blue eyes dart to meet his captains. Allowing a curt nod before looking back out to their crewmates that are fake tackling eachother over a stolen swig of beer.

“Y’checked on her yet?”

“Givin’ her space. She’s not too happy w’me at the minute.”

He lets out a light snort, “Good choice. Unless she’s thrown ‘erself off the ship, then t’was a bad one.”

“Ha-ha.” He fake laughs and rolls his eyes at Niall, taking a moment to swallow down the anxiety that’s built in his throat.

He can’t avoid stressing about you.

After a few ticks of silence, Niall clears his throat,

“Jus’ careful wit her. For both your sakes.”

He adds on with a pat on the back, “here if you need cap. It’ll be alright.”

Anyone else he would’ve been annoyed for saying that, but Niall is probably wiser than Harry himself. So his advice is taken with gratitude.

“Thanks mate. I’ll be careful.”

After another half hour, he’d had enough of the ill feeling that stirred in his stomach.

He left the room to find himself outside in the now cold but still windy air. It took a second for his gaze to adjust to the darkness, immediately scanning the deck around him for you.

Without any sight of you, he checks all the places he can think you’d be. His room, the cells, the kitchen.

His heart doubles in pace every time you’re not in a place he thought.

Coming out of the kitchen, his quickened pace. Starting to walk along the deck that leads him along the perimeter of the boat.

As he gets closer to the stern of the boat, he feels genuinely sick.

What if you had—

“Y/N!” He gasps without any thought the second his eyes spot your silhouetted frame.

You’re leant against the edge of the boat, staring out into the black water that swirls beneath the ship. He thanks the stars you’re not in it right now, given he was starting to think the worst of the situation at hand.

He doesn’t give you any time to talk before his long strides are invading your personal space. Warm hands coming to your cheeks, turning them to inspect your face for any damage, as though you are some kind of treasure to him.

“Im sorry.” He immediately begins.

“I shouldn’t have pushed m’luck.”

Your eyes scan his, taking in his face as his hands have come to rest in the crook where your neck and shoulders meet.

You still haven’t said anything, which isn’t working in his favour because his words are filling the silence, becoming more risky with each passing second.

“Jus’… the idea of something like that happening to you made me…” his thumbs stroke upwards along the valley of your throat subconsciously, “makes me fuckin’ sick.”

Your lips part as he begins to spill things he probably shouldn’t. Swearing that he can probably feel your pulse in your neck where his fingers lay.

He can’t stop now, “hearing you talk about y’self like that, like y’an object... I know I am no better than any average person in the Kelna courts for what I’ve done to you. But I promise you that I’d take a dagger to my own hands till there was nothing left of them before I ever let something of that nature happen to you…”

A deep breath and he shakes his head, “Not without your permission, darling.”

He doesn’t even care what that’s insinuating. Never does he want you under the impression he has control of you in a sexual regard.

The thought of you even believing that made him sick.

The air around you feels pressurised, and it’s like you’re about to spill even more out to him.

“I am being held captive, yet I’ve never felt more fucking free. How fucked is that?”

He is silent to your admission, shocked into it almost.

“You don’t understand how it feels to go from having to watch your every move, every word, just to stay alive. You are loved with conditions.”

Your voice suddenly heavy with anger again, “People cannot be trusted, everything is always two-sided, no matter what they say to portray otherwise.”

His hands have slipped from you, you’ve started pacing the deck and throwing your own hands out as bouts of sheer outrage wash over you.

“Here, god— you’re atleast half fucking honest with me. I don’t have to conform to any stupid rules to how I speak or sit or dress. I can swear at you, and you only raise the stakes.”

He can’t really fathom that you’re not speaking less of him. That you’re admitting that the life you lead on the ship as a hostage is better than as a princess.

“And I go against every promise I made to myself when I woke up here. I would let you do anything to me, Harry. Do you not understand that? How hard that is to live with everyday?”

“y’implying a lot right now…” he answers.

“You have my permission!” You spit out, pissed off now. At him, for being so charming and handsome that you’ve wound up as the lamb that fell for the lion. And pissed at yourself for being so unable to halt your snowballing emotions for him.

You’re self aware enough to know you’re an idiot, yet you’re still in the same position nonetheless. You’re also going to blame it your lack of education on how to handle sexy pirates that kidnap you for ransom money.

All the same, you’ve come aware that you’d let him do anything to you. You’d do anything to him.

God forbid the day you would do anything for him.

You’re terrified because whether or not this is some kind of fucked up situation of Stockholm Syndrome, you’re too deep in it to turn back now.

“Fucking Jesus Christ…” he curses to the sky, stepping towards you where you’re pacing.

“I hate you, you know! For putting me in this position.” You point at him, stating with contempt once you lock eyes.

“Y/N. Stop.” His voice has dropped several octaves. The wind has urged the curls that usually sit pushed back to fall over his eyes and forehead. Standing over you, his gaze is pinning you to the spot.

His brows are furrowed in an unreadable expression, but you don’t care. Right now, everything you have is about to go on the line.

“Stop what? Telling you that there’s something going on with me— with us here?” You gesture between the two of you.

“Am I meant to tell you that I—“ His hands come to your waist and urge you backwards against the edge of the ship.

The low of your back is pressed into the wooden beam, something you should be scared about realistically, but his hold around you is tight.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He says, “whatever you’re about to say, keep it to yourself.”

“Can’t handle the truth, Captain?”

He tips your chin with his hand, bringing your head on an angle to look him in the eyes, “You won’t be able to handle what comes after that, Princess.”

You’re unsure when both of your breathing became short and laboured. His panting chest made your head physically spin.

“What? Are you gonna put me down in the cells, hang my by the chains on the walls?”

His exhale stutters out of parted lips, “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Ignoring your problems does nothing, Harry. They keep getting bigger while you hide from them. Out of sight out of mind doesn’t work the way you think it does.”

Your frustration easily spreads to him, pushing him closer to a point neither of you can come back from.

His hands grab yours suddenly, they wrap around your wrists and hold them tight between you both. Like he’s grasping for any element of control he has left before everything spirals.

“There is no problem here, Y/N.” He whispers into your ear, voice stern, “do not make one.”

The tension between you both is absolutely palpable, his body is so close to yours it’s spinning your senses haywire.

“So we what? Go back to your room and act like nothings going on… I go get into your bed, and I let you wrap your hands around me like it’s just— it’s just…”

There’s not even a word for it, your voice trails off. His breath hot against your ear, and his one hand still tight around your two wrists.

Fuck it, fuck this, you think.

You turn your face to his, noses bumping.

It’s like the pull between your lips is so strong it’s easier to give in than put an inch of distance between them.

Your body squirms against his. It’s making him wild, he needs you so bad it’s going to break him.

“Not doing it.” He pants out, voice so deep it sounds like he just woke up.

“Not kissing me?”

“Nope.”

“Im giving you permission.”

“Numbing your problems doesn’t make them go away. Feeding into them only makes them worse.” His eyes fluttered shut, brows in a deep frown as he holds himself back with every part of his being.

“So you admit there’s a problem.” Your voice sounds dignified.

The metaphor of your situation has taken on a nickname clearly, and you’re not sure if it’s helping at all.

You nudge your nose into his again, his head falls into a tilt. His mouth so easy to access…

A dance between you ensues. Your mouth moves forward but his moves back.

“It’s so wrong…” he whispers, tongue jutting out to wet his lips. They’re left parted open, air escaping and fanning onto your own.

“I want to rip your shirt off your body right now, how’s that for wrong?”

“if I kiss you, Y/N,” he begins, breath stuck in his throat, “I’ll never be able to send you back.”

And how wrong is it for you to admit that’s beginning to become exactly what you want.

A stretch of silence, and you finally just lean into him. The second your lips meet his, your whole body melts.

Air empties out of his lungs in sweet relief, he swears for a moment he feels so lightheaded that he’s dreaming this whole moment up.

The hand wrapped around your wrists slides off and finds refuge on your waist. A voice in his subconscious is selfishly begging your own soft fingers to touch him wherever they can.

It appears words are suddenly useless to you both, and all that’s important is the kiss that is finally happening.

The meaning behind it weighs like a tonne of bricks, yet somehow makes it all the better. It shows in the way his mouth moves against yours like velvet, kissing back into your upper lip like he’s desperate for you.

He still recalls the first time he caught himself thinking about kissing you.

You were down in the cells, playing the waiting game after pushing him one step too far. It’d been over a day since he’d pulled you out of the water you’d thrown yourself in.

The sun was hot on his skin as he thought of your fully soaked body that he pressed into the hull of his ship. He remembered looking up to your lips as he untied your bound wrists.

They were glossy with water from the sea.

As he thought about, he only could imagine tasting them. Kissing over the salt water until they no longer shone with ocean drops, but with his saliva instead.

He had to physically shake his head at himself. Blaming it on not having been laid in so long.

Didn’t take long to release that was far from the problem when it came to his unseemly attraction to you.

A deep whine sounds from your chest, drawing him back to the present, and he pushes his body as far into your space as it can. You’re physically pinned against the edge of the ship. Theres not a care in the world at the endlessly deep swell of water thats just past you.

You don’t even remember when tongue started getting involved, nor when exactly you worked up the courage to lick into his mouth.

It’s hot, so hot.

His body feels like it’s on fire, and your hands feel that tangible warmth as they slide underneath the purple silk covering his chest.

That heat isn’t just budding in chests, it’s striking hot between legs. Only growing worse by the minute.

“My fuckin’ god…” he groans into your mouth, hands squeezing the swell of your chest.

“You taste devine, angel…”

His words make you tipsy. You smile and kiss him harder, letting his hands roam your body like you’ve never touched eachother before.

Despite the nights he’s dragged a delicate touch along your back and the skin over your waist, it’s nothing compared to this. It’s like you’ve never felt him before. The way his tongue glides against the roof of your mouth skilfully, and firm yet gentle hands are palming the flesh between your ass and thighs.

He’s wasted no time roaming and squeezing every inch of your skin, even over clothes he’s desperately trying to commit it to memory. Rubbing over the swell of your ass like you’re the only thing in the world he wants this bad.

“Harry.” There it was, his name.

The way it falls from your kiss swollen lips in that same pretty plea that sends him spiraling every single time. Yet it was so, so different in this moment.

Sheer pleasure courses through him, and he pulls your leg up to bracket his hip, letting him push himself closer into you. Imagining what lay between the peak of your thighs.

Wishing to see the state of you, wondering if this situation has worked you up to the same extent as him.

You can feel him, every inch. Every hard slab of muscle is pressed into you, warmth radiating off him like rays of the sun.

“My name.” He murmurs into your lips, “Say it again.”

His kiss trails down your neck, sucking gently over your pulse before licking a stripe back up your throat. His saliva leaving a hot, wet trail behind.

“Harry, please… more.” You don’t even have to try, the words all come from your mouth like it’s your only purpose.

His prick is swollen in the black trousers he’s in, shamelessly being pushed into your thigh. The feeling, it’s like heaven. You don’t have any single other way to explain it.

He’s behind layers of clothing and he’s pretty sure this is better than any sex he’s ever had.

Your little experience with genuine sexual interactions has not stopped you at all. And reflecting on every past experience of a sexual nature, they fall incomparably flat to this.

Despite the majority of them being unwanted advances, even the few you engaged in— mostly with random strangers at ballroom parties— were nothing to this.

They took place in dim hallways and in secluded gardens, the kisses were always slimy, laced with the intention of taking anything from you they feasibly could. You always stopped it when you released you felt no desire to go further.

This, however, was happening because no matter how hard you both attempted to deny it, you both wanted it. Wanted eachother.

And this time, all you felt was desire.

Your hand comes down to suddenly cup the bulge of his cock between you. He moans at the feeling, rocking into your palm shamelessly.

“Fuck— I could come jus’ like this. Against your innocent little hand…” he curses into your neck, making your mind swirl with his lustful and dirty words.

“Tha’s no fun though.” He amends, swollen lips coming up to your ear, “Not when I could take you back to our bed…”

Our bed… your hazy brain notes, trying to commit it to memory as his tongue drags lightly over the shell of your ear.

“I could leave your hands free, so you could lace them into my hair. Pulling on it like I know you would while I lick into you, Angel.”

“Or would you prefer them bound up against the headboard? Just as we’ve always joked, all tied up. At my mercy.”

“Please… Harry.” Your whole body feels like it’s been set alight, the pulsing between your legs so intense it made your knees weak.

“Please what, dove? Or you don’t care? As long as someone is looking after that pretty place down here, hmm…”

His hand meets the fabric between your legs, both of you now rutting into each others palms.

You can’t help but whine, “it hurts… Harry. Fuck…”

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss your lips. He can’t believe you’re so worked up you’re telling him its physically hurting you. He thought it was just him, with his cock so hard he is bordering on being in pain.

“Cmon,” he starts to pull you back, your body leaving the dangerous edge of the boat.

But you hardly can figure out how to walk, almost like a little spring doe. Knees struggling to function.

He picks you up effortlessly by your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. Your arms naturally draping over his broad shoulders, tangling into his messy brown hair.

You whine and push into his chest without any thought. Attempting any kind of friction you can, causing his to laugh. His eyes finding yours, “you’re so needy you’re grinding against my chest…”

His long legs make quick distance across the boat, out of the cool wind and through the winding halls below deck.

Thankfully not running into a soul as he enters his room with you, locking the door swiftly behind him.

The second the latch flicks in place, his lips are back against yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate, open mouths pushing against eachother like you’ve been apart for weeks.

You’re moaning into his mouth as he squeezes your ass in the dark room. Walking over to his bed, still holding you against him as he climbs atop the mattress.

He lets your back drift down until it meets the plush comforter, but your legs still elevated by his. Ass against his thighs, and his erection tightly pushed against you.

He follows your lips the whole way down, hands rolling up and down your body, lingering against your breasts as he nicks your bottom lip with his teeth.

“This okay?” He breathes out, making sure you’re alright.

“Yes…” You nod, responding without even a second between his question.

He soaks up the feeling that swells in his chest as you consent to him. You said it without an ounce of hesitation. He’s almost feeling honoured.

“This is on your terms, my Princess… you tell me to stop and I stop.”

My. Your brain struggled to compute his possessive words.

My Princess.

You drag your hands up his back, sliding them all the way to his cheekbones.

Your eyes find his.

They lock with intensity. Green gaze piercing into your soul.

Silence ticks over between you, only filled by the panting of your breaths.

Your thumb slips down to his plump lips, pulling down his bottom one. The pad of your finger tracing over its fullness, dipping into the wetness that coats it.

He allows it, eyes fluttering at the gentle yet seductive touch.

He is so gorgeous.

When your thumb is wet with his saliva, you bring it back down to your mouth. He watches you, the action so small yet so utterly filthy as you draw your finger into your mouth. Taking it between your own lips and sucking it clean.

Once you draw it out of your mouth, you keep your big eyes looking at him, “You have my permission, Captain.”

He curses at your words, and they kick him back into gear. His body folds over yours again, meeting your lips with his— fuelled with a fever that makes his head spin.

He tastes like whiskey, and you feel simply drunk off of it. You want to drink him up. He is the warm, tingly feeling in your throat after throwing back a shot of the brown liquor.

His mouth moves down your neck again, kissing and licking as far as your clothes will allow. He gets to the very top of your chest before the fabric gets in the way. Having half the mind to just mouth over your nipple anyway.

But, it’s the satisfaction that’s to come with stripping it off of you. The very clothes he bought.

Fingers shuck the material up over your chest, and your arms lift up instinctively to help him get it off. He’s surprised to see you were without a bra.

There you lay, arms up above your head, back arched against the mattress, and your beautiful chest on display for him.

“Oh, dove… you are a work of art.” He coos, hands immediately coming to run against the soft skin of your breasts.

He stares intently in the dark, suddenly asking, “Can I light a candle?”

His voice is hasty, “I can see you, but not s’well as I would if there was a bit of light.”

“Want t’see your skin coated in that warm light,” he leans down, voice dropping into a whisper, “and so I can watch y’nipples harden when I wrap my mouth ‘round them.”

You nod quickly as you speak a desperate yes, squirming at the idea.

It would be unfair for you also, not to see his chest and tattoos while you two did whatever this was together.

He pecks a chaste kiss over your lips.

“Thank,” kiss.

“…you.” another gentle kiss.

He slides upright, struggling to tear his eyes off of you as he fumbles for a match to light the candle on the sconce mounted to his wall.

You hear the match flick alight, and the room suddenly being cast on a golden glow as he brings the flame to the wick.

Discarding of the match, he wastes no time coming back to where you lay— hair fanned out underneath you. He stands at the edge of the bed, staring breathlessly at you.

He had hummed the second he saw you—properly saw you. Your cheeks are flushed red, beautiful brows upturned into an expression of sheer want.

“Let me take yours off,” you gesture with your eyes to his own shirt, “please?”

“C’mere then.”

You bring yourself up, knees to the edge of his bed. Your hands lift the purple fabric over him, and suddenly the tan, chiseled skin you eye off so often is finally yours to freely touch.

Tattoos and muscles, fine hairs and freckles, he is the embodiment of beauty and sex.

You run soft hands over his abs, the muscles almost rippling as he feels the skin to skin contact. Throwing his head back, he groans into the tension filled air.

Hands wrap around your bare waist, pulling you flush against him, chest to chest.

He follows through with exactly what he’d said moments earlier, kissing a trail down to your breasts before wrapping his soft mouth around the peak of one of them.

Wet and hot, his tongue sucks and swirls until you’re moaning embarrassingly loud. You react like you’ve never felt someone like this before, because truthfully, you hadn’t.

Your spine arches, pushing into his mouth and lacing your hands around his neck.

He pulls away, smirking at the hardened nipple he’s looking after, while you catch your breath.

“My turn.” You whispered, and despite your legs feeling like jelly, you kiss your own way down his chest until you meet his defined pectoral muscle.

Your lack of experience doesn’t show, you’re so eager to please him it makes you only confident. You lick against the warm skin of his chest, lulling your tongue over his own nipple— something a girl has never done to him before.

“Fuck—!” He bites out, teeth clamping down onto his lower lip.

You pay some attention to it before trailing up his shoulder, sucking the skin above his collarbone. Biting against it and making sure to leave a mark.

He slaps lightly at your ass, still covered in tight black pants, just as he is.

“You are so filthy, dove.” His voice lilts, dripping with honey,

“Who would’ve known… to look at you, no one would know you’re the kind of girl that’s going to wrap her hot little mouth on any skin she can.”

“Innocent thing you are, ready to do anything, hm?”

His nose nudges yours so he can get better access to your mouth, kissing into it again.

Merely minutes since he last had his lips on yours, and it feels like the first time all over again. It strikes and stirs hot in your stomach. Making you arch into him again, pressing your chest against his.

“So needy… you must be soaked…” his thoughts spill from his lips out loud.

“Panties that I bought you are probably wet through by now, little cunt all weepy for something it’s never had.”

“D’ya want it, baby?” His sultry voice asks.

“Harry, I want it, I want you.” You plead, and he unbuttons your black pants.

The zipper is pulled down by him, and he slides his hand in between your legs. Cupping over the fabric, it’s almost hot to touch.

“So warm in there, I can feel y’clenching around nothin’.”

He rubs softly over you, and you moan out, rutting into his hand.

His lips kiss you hot and slow as he runs tedious circles over the top of your panties.

Once you’re moaning and arching into him, he slowly retracts his hand out, “get in the middle of the bed.”

You follow his instructions moving to lay in the centre of his mattress as he shucks his pants off.

He’s in nothing but boxers as he climbs above your legs, “No one else has ever made you come, have they?”

His green eyes lock with yours,

“N-no.”

“No one’s ever wrapped their lips around your swollen clit and sucked until you finish against their tongue? Or fucked their fingers into you until you are almost crying?”

You can’t even verbally answer, only able to shake your head side to side.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, lowering down to kiss your belly as he slowly pulls your pants down from your legs.

A smirk rises on his lips as he kisses below your navel, “Then I take it no one’s ever pushed their cock into you?”

Your cheeks were burning as you squeezed your thighs together, only in black lacy panties that he bought you.

“Alright baby,” he smirks, “look at you then, in this little pair of black underwear I got ya. Did you think about what was going through my head as I picked them out?”

“Never thought I’d be privledged enough to see y’in them.”

The warm candle highlights the goosebumps that have already prickled over your skin, each kiss he’s pressed to your bare body has made them spread like wildfire.

He takes his time to tease you, lips lulling over your lower stomach, tongue tracing the upper band of your underwear.

This continues until you’re begging him for anything, “I can’t— h— fuck… Harry.”

Your speech is slurred like you’re half awake, “Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He stated, green eyes flickering up to yours, face with devilish intent.

“More…” was the only word you could sigh out to him, unable to hold eye contact with him for longer than a second.

His hand comes to the back of your knee, pushing it up so your legs spread. He licks a slow, pleasing stripe against the dip between your thigh and where you want him the most.

Your hips jut upwards, and his fingers trace over your centre above the fabric covering it. As you whine wordlessly into the comforter, he tucks his finger into the edge seam of your panties. Pulling the elastic back and letting it snap back against your skin.

Not enough to hurt, but enough for the vibration to ripple through your core.

“Jus’ say the words, dove.” He murmurs, kissing over where your clit is.

“Take them off.” Your own hands start frantically pulling the sides down your thighs.

“Tha’s my girl.” He taps over where he just kissed with his thumb, laughing at your attempt to get them off, helping you get them all the way down. Tossing them over his shoulder, leaving them somewhere behind him to be dealt with later.

His eyes finally lock onto your bare body. Entirely naked.

How badly you want him is evident, and his fingers immediately move to run down your dripping centre.

“You…” he speaks, voice raspy and dripping with desire, “are a fucking angel.”

“Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Fuckin’ hell. The things im going to do to you if you’ll let me.”

The second they glide down you, grazing over your entrance, all conscious thoughts and conscious movement disappear. Almost like a magic trick. Suddenly everything you do is automatic, like your breathing or your heart beating. You have no conscious play in it.

This includes the words coming from your mouth.

“Finger me.” You moan shamelessly, clenching around nothing as he touches you.

He almost groans at your request, “Mm, well I gotta stretch you out, hey?”

Taking a few moments to rub over you slowly, he eventually slides his middle finger into you. It glides in so smoothly. Even just the idea of his hands touching you this way has you completely melted, your back arching off the mattress as he moves in and out gently, the subtle rolling inside you enough to send you insane.

“C’mon dove, let me taste.” He pushes your legs open wider.

No part of you registers what he’s saying until his lips attach to your clit, licking over your arousal that’s spread entirely over your core.

“God!” You cry out as he flicks his tongue and curls his finger, the combination heavenly.

It’s bliss for him just watching you, the way your body reacts to every little touch he administers.

Another finger pushing into you and you’re already a mess around his hand and mouth. At whatever point he thought you couldn’t get any wetter, he was entirely wrong.

“Y’gushing around me, baby. Two fingers and you’re clenching like you could finish jus’ like this— so tight too.” His words are spoken against you, and the vibration just makes you fall deeper and deeper.

“Feel so good, Harry.” You moan out, hands finally finding his soft curls. Wrapping around them and tugging his face into you.

The scene is erotic. Pink lips against you, fingers pushed into you. Same tan arm holding onto your leg that you’ve stared at many times before.

His cock is aching while he does this to you, hearing you whine his name like a broken record as he picks up the intensity. Tongue and fingers forming a rhythm, one that quickly is building an intense heat in the low of your stomach.

Sitting up, he removes his fingers without warning as he repositions himself. You immediately miss the feeling of him inside of you, somewhere in the back of your head wondering how you’re ever going to go without the sensation.

It blips suddenly to wondering what the fuck you’re both going to do after tonight… something that would make you overthink into a deadly spiral usually. But it’s quickly forgotten about again when he rests on his knees between your spread legs, and pulls your ass up onto his thighs.

Your legs are spread open completely, he has a view of you he’s only ever dreamed of. Your wet glistening cunt in front of him, entirely his to please tonight.

You’re still babbling out his name like a mantra, mixed with a few different sighed words. Varying from “please” to “fuck” to “touch me”.

They get lodged in your throat when you watch him dip down and lick along you completely. Spitting onto your clit once he gets to it.

Fucking filthy.

You loved it.

His free hand reaches to touch your chest, rocking his tongue against you. Mixing spit and arousal together over your swollen core.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He moans into you, flicking his tongue over your entrance.

He’s eating you out so damn well you want to suck him off desperately in attempt to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before the same hand that was pressed into your breast, tweaking your sensitive nipples his sliding back down along your waist.

“Three,” he murmurs into you, “reckon you can take that like a good girl?”

“Yea… yea!” You eagerly nod, your own hand coming to squeeze your breast, “need to feel you.”

“You are so fuckin’ dirty… beggin’ t’take more n’ more of me.”

He holds the back of your thigh as he works to push in a third finger. This one burns, you never put more than two of your own fingers inside of you. And compared to his— size wise— they don’t measure up in the slightest.

The pinch you feel is a mixture of pleasure and pain. But your body registers the sensation that feels otherworldly as you stretch around him.

“Harry!” You whine out, hips stuttering as he slowly curls his three fingers inside of you, “Holy shit.”

He moved feverishly, showing clearly how bad he wants you to come. He wants to watch you entirely unravel between his touch.

Everything is starting to build up in your stomach, the pressure twisting and clenching. Your hand comes up to your own hair, fisting through it at the intensity.

He pumps his fingers in fast, quick movements, curling them quickly inside of you as he watches in complete awe at your bodies reaction to him. Your back is arching, lips whining out beautiful sounds, a light dusting of sweat shines between your chest.

“Taking it so well,” he murmurs, leaning down to attach his lips to your clit as he continues fucking you with his fingers.

The second his tongue swirls over you, you realise you’re about to loose it.

“H-harry—“ the sheer desperation in your voice tells him all he needs to know, along with the pulsating of your entrance.

“Don’t stop…” pleading to him, “i— im gonna come.”

He smiles against you, sucking harshly as you start to squirm and pant underneath him.

“Want to watch it,” he presses a kiss above your clit, “want to watch every second of it.”

You nod feverishly, head starting to spin and body starting to feel like it’s floating.

“Are you gonna show me, dove? Show me just how good im making y’feel?” His voice is seductively low.

“Don’t want you holding back, I want to hear you.”

“Harry.” The thrust of his hand is beginning to tip you over the edge, his words only bringing you closer.

He leans his body over yours, mouth coming to kiss over you. Trailing up your chest until his lips meet yours.

The kiss is open-mouthed and desperate as you moan into it.

You want his fingers as deep as they can possibly fit into you, and you suddenly are verbalising this, “harder, deeper, please…”

“Want it rough, baby. I’ll give you rough.” He chuckles against you.

All the sudden, his pace quickens, and he’s pushing them in and out of you at a rate your brain can’t even keep up with.

The feeling of the palm of his hand slapping against your clit makes your whole body seize up, you cry out in pleasure as he talks in your ear.

“Cmon, let it all out baby.” He coos, voice soft compared to his movements.

Your moans are loud and stuttered out at each thrust. Starting to shake as your stomach tightens, “Please, please!”

His movements don’t falter for a second, and suddenly your orgasm hits you like a train. Whole body shaking as you clench around his fingers.

He even moans as he feels you finish, imagining how it would feel to have your cunt squeezing his cock instead.

You cry out his name so loud it echoes through his bedroom, all while he rocks his fingers through your orgasm.

“That’s it angel,” palm hitting your clit to make you clench again, drawing out the pleasure, “fucking gorgeous…”

“So beautiful, letting me watch your face screw up as you came all over my hand.”

“Can’t wait to have my face down there someday.”

The thought makes you writhe against him, “maybe later, hm?”

“I’ll get my tongue inside of you, play with that pretty clit until you do that all again… finish on m’face.”

He’s dirty talking you as you come down, and even when he finally draws his fingers out of you, you can’t help but want more.

Unsure if it’s just him telling you all the stuff he wants to do, or just how badly you want him in general, you realise how worked up you still are.

Not often would you orgasm and still be craving more, but right now you swear you could be doing this all night with him.

His soaked fingers run up between your chest and come to his mouth. His green eyes finding yours as he sucks them clean, humming as he tastes you.

“Fuck me—“ a sudden burst of energy comes to you, hands coming to push yourself to sit up. During it all, you’d slid off his lap and back down onto the mattress.

“Let me suck your cock.”

He’d straightened upright along with you, sitting back on his knees as he had been earlier.

His brows shot up in surprise as you suddenly had this new found energy, “baby— you haven’t even fully come down yet, just have a moment.”

“Harry.” Your gaze snaps to him, “im going to suck you off until you decide you’re going to fuck me, okay?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ.” He curses, throwing his head back. His cock is aching, and he can’t even imagine saying no to that.

“I’m gonna struggle not to finish the second you wrap your lips around me, princess.”

“You can hold it, captain. I want to taste you.”

It doesn’t take you long before you’re pushing him backwards, making his legs stretch out as you kiss him quickly.

He hums into your mouth as you palm at his briefs, squeezing the fabric over his hard cock.

You move to pull his briefs down his thighs, listening to him groan once he is finally out of the tight confines. Pulling away from his warm lips, you look down between you.

Jesus Christ.

Of course the Captain was heavily equipped.

The tip of him was flushed and swollen, you just knew how well it would fill your mouth. He was the embodiment of pure sex. Everything about him.

“Can i?” You glance up, looking at the way his plump bottom lip is taken between his white teeth.

He nods quickly, fluttering his eyes as he pictures the mental image of what you’re about to do to him. How much this is about to fuck him up.

Not having to imagine long. Your body sinks down, knees pushing back on the comforter as you half lay between his legs.

“God—“ he draws out, you haven’t even touched him, but the sight of you is enough to make his head spin.

Your bare ass and the arch of your back is all he can pay attention to as you rest on your elbows between his thighs.

“You look so…” he struggles to find the word, and the thought will never be completed. Your hands wrap gingerly around him, and although you’re unsure how to go about pleasing him, you waste no time licking along the underside of him.

“Fuck!” He spits out immediately, hips flexing upward at the touch.

Lips wrapping over his head, you just go with what feels natural, sucking the tip gently, careful not to nick him with your teeth.

“Y/N.” He sighs out your name, letting you envelop his senses entirely.

He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to hold out from finishing in your mouth. He’s already feeling that tightness spread across his abdomen, and you haven’t even been on him for a whole minute.

You hum around him in response to your name, hands sliding up his thighs and meeting the muscles of his chest. Selfishly you palm over the hard slabs, watching his brows furrow in pleasure as you slip further down his length.

Hollowing your cheeks you suck around him, moving up and down gently as his hand laces into your hair.

“You… your mouth is like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Could sit here all night with that thing wrapped around me.”

You revel in the idea, saliva dripping down his cock as you draw back up to having only his tip between your lips. Gently pulling off to talk, “I’d do it.”

He feverishly lets his head fall back, pulling at the hair he’s got between his fingers.

“You’d be a good girl and warm my cock all night with that mouth of yours?”

You nod as he leans down to pull your face up to his, kissing your lips without shame of where they’d just been.

He slides his tongue into your mouth, drawing across your bottom lip, “Another night baby. You wanted me inside of you, so you’ll get that.”

“A little longer on you, please.” You whine, wanting to please him with your mouth just like he had for you.

The briefs hanging onto his thighs get pulled all the way off before your body leans back down, kissing over his length and sucking harshly at certain sides of him.

Who is he to say no to you.

Licking along him, you drag your tongue over his tip before sliding your lips down him again. This time you move faster, and he is trying to keep his thoughts controlled as you fill your mouth with as much of him as you can without gagging.

“Good girl,” he moans, watching your ass rise and fall with each bob of your head.

His prick is practically dripping with your saliva, and he don’t think he’s ever felt a better feeling in his life.

So good that he can only go so long before he’s swearing, and pulling at your hair, “Fuck— Y/N I’m going to come if y’don’t stop.”

You hum around him, having half the mind to just keep going so you can taste him fully. Somehow he finds the strength to hold it off, “No, baby, take your mouth off— please.”

You slide off him with a pop, looking up at him with swollen lips.

The sensation of your mouth trailing up him had him teetering on the edge of his high, “Fuck,” his hips stuttering against nothing as his head is thrown back. Attempting to push down the feeling he was so close to giving into.

Its so hot. Watching his frown get deeper as he screws his eyes shut, all the hard muscles on his body tightening.

His hand comes to his hair as he pulls on it, the orgasm he was so close to was finally receding. You’d just unintentionally edged him.

“Y’so fucking horny.” He pants, “can’t even wait to have me inside you.”

He lifts you up by your arms and pulls you on top of him, chest to chest. You can feel his length curving against your ass as his lips come down to suck on your nipple. Licking over it harshly without mercy.

“Want you to fuck me senseless, Harry.” You moan, back arching into him as you grind down against him, arousal practically dripping down onto his cock.

“Please,” you begin to beg as he works over your breast. You can’t seem to stop the words flowing from your lips, “I want you so bad.”

His mouth moves off your hardened nipple, looking you in the eyes, sighing out a deep breath.

You search his unreadable gaze, and there’s a sudden blanket of silence that falls over you both. Maybe a hint of realisation has set in, in that what you’re about to do is irreversible.

“I jus’ want y’to be sure.” He says, sobering the intense moment.

“Think about it for a moment, okay? Just take a second.” He kisses your cheek, hands rubbing delicately on your back, “I don’t want this to be something y’regret.”

You nod slowly, pursing your lips as you genuinely take the moment to consider everything. You are about to fuck a pirate. Which isn’t even the worst part.

Still, even as you think about the situation, and all the potential repercussions, you can’t find it in yourself to want to stop.

“I know we don’t know where this is going, and we both know we shouldn’t be doing this.” You speak quietly.

He hums in agreement, his pink lips pursed as he lets you talk, “but… no. I still want this.”

“And I rarely ever get to make decisions for myself… so thank you for letting me do that.” You say, voice sounding certain.

“Don’t thank me for that, that should be your right.” He states, brows furrowed.

“Shh, let me thank you anyway.” You nudge his nose to the side, kissing him gently. Lips clicking as you both take a moment to do just that.

“I think i have condoms,” he begins.

A laugh bubbles from your chest at his uncertainty, “You think,”

Shaking his head in a sort of amusement, “I haven’t used them in a long time, dove. I don’t bring girls in here.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Yet here you are.” He hums, hoping you pick up the underlining statement in his words. You are special. Much more than just a girl he’s got in his bed for the night.

“Wanna feel you.” You whispered, implying you don’t want to use anything. And honestly, your whole body ached to feel him for the first time without a condom on. Especially since you knew it wasn’t an issue with it.

“The court mandates us to have a rod…”

He frowns, “what do you mean?”

“So I don’t get pregnant before I’m married. It’s fine it’s reversible… they can take it out. They do it to most girls incase we start fooling around behind their backs.”

“Fuckin’ Hell. I hate them.” He spits, “Always controlling other people bodies.”

“If you’d prefer to—“ the sentence doesn’t even make it out of your mouth before he interrupts,

“No baby, that’s your choice.“ His tone is entirely certain, not wishing to have any influence on your decision.

“As long as you don’t have some kind of pirate STD, i wanna feel you, harry.” You tease, but tone still genuine.

It causes him to laugh, “No STD’s here.”

“Alright, good.” You nod, mouth forming a grin, “I trust you, if you trust me.”

His green gaze searches yours, and you feel the weight of your words for a few seconds until he breaks the silence, “I trust you.”

Nodding, you bring your lips back to his. Giving him a chaste kiss of appreciation that he smiles into.

But now that you’ve committed, that sense of need is rushing back into you. But this time, it’s like the flood gates are open, your movements starting to get quickly eager again.

That gentle kiss quickly turns heated as you grind down over his length, excited he gets to feel you skin against skin.

He mutters into your mouth, “Perfect baby, every inch of you.”

Immensely tired of waiting, your voice whines out a plea, “Fuck me harry, please.”

“M’gonna fuck you, don’t worry.” He whispers, grabbing your hips and flipping you around. Leaving your back pressed into the pillows as he pulls your waist to his.

He looks down at you, hair fanned out and big eyes looking at him with parted lips. His own gaze dips to the supple flesh of your tits, inexplicably excited to watch them bounce as he fucks you.

You can’t help but take the opportunity to commit his stance above you to memory, the muscles of his tan chest and the dark ink of his tattoos. The thought of scratching your nails along his laurel adorning hips…

He can’t take you staring at him like that. He leans down to pepper kisses along your neck— finally grabbing himself, a hiss coming from his teeth as he rubs his tip along you and over your clit.

“Tell me if it’s too much okay?” He says, lining his head up to your soaked entrance.

You sigh out several words of agreement, clutching his shoulders as he slowly starts to push into you.

With how turned on you are, and his early preparation with his fingers, his tip slides into you with some ease. There’s still some tension as he pushes in, “Relax, dove…”

His voice is so deep. He’s still clutching onto every ounce of his control, praying he can hold himself together when he hears you whine as you’re being stretched out by his cock.

“I won’t last long if you keep squirming like tha’.” He screws his eyes shut, holding you still by the hips.

“Fuck—“ it feels so different to anything you’ve ever felt. He curves into you like it was fate, like every inch of him was tailor made to you.

“Deeper, go deeper please…” you beg, nails scratching at the messy curls on his head.

His brain works on overdrive to process the fact he’s the first person to ever do this to you. That you’re experiencing this with him for the very first time.

Virginity is a tacky term for him, in the pirate world it’s regarded as the best thing you can take from a girl. The way it’s treated disgusts him. But the only thing for him that’s important is that your first experience is the best he can give it, and that you feel safe— treasured even. Exactly how you should.

“Takin’ it so well…” He sighs out, finally all the way inside of you.

“Kiss me, Harry.” You say, and he wastes no time leaning down to capture your mouth.

Kissing him with his cock fully pressed into you is an entirely different experience. As your tongue glides against his lower lip, he stutters his hips inside of you. Hand coming to play with your clit as he starts to move gently.

You roll your body against his uncontrollably, wrapping your hands into his hair to pull his lips further into yours.

“Feels so good—“ you groan into the corner of his lips, the stimulation you’re getting feels like it’s coming from all angles. Like you could float away.

“You feel so good. So tight around me, Y/N.” He thrusts a little harder as he speaks, moving back down to kiss you. It’s also harder this time, both your tongues clashing against each other as he starts to build a pace between your legs.

He can feel how coated he is with your arousal, your cunt only growing wetter as he ruts into you.

“Do what you want to me.” You pant out, your body aching for anything he’s willing to give to you.

His green eyes are almost swallowed entirely by his pupils, “Fuck.”

“Can y’take it rough y’think?” He asks, nose bumping yours as you hold eye contact.

You nod feverishly, and it causes his head to throw itself back as he starts to work himself into you harder. Taking the opportunity, you bring your lips to suck against the arch of his throat.

He never wants this to end. He wants to take you like this all night. Change locations, fuck you on the floor, against the wall, bent over his bed, even with you pressed into the counter of the bathroom so you can watch it all in the mirror.

His throat is vibrating as he moans, you can feel it against your lips. You’re licking over his tan skin with your tongue, swearing you can feel the beat of his pulse underneath.

You start to loose yourself in him again, hands drawing down to scratch against the muscles of his chest as you clench around his cock. He is captivating at the best of times, even when you’re 5 feet apart you can get swept up by him.

It’s like a hold down under a wave, you can’t get up above the surface long enough to catch a breath. You don’t know what way is up or down, you’re spinning and all you can feel is him, he is the water glistening with rays of sun that fully surrounds you.

Now amplify that by a hundred and maybe that begins to cover how he feels while he’s inside of you.

Moans start bubbling out of you with each thrust, you feel him hitting that spot inside of you everytime he ruts back into you, balls slapping against your ass as he gives you himself exactly how you’d asked.

He moves his hand off your clit and grabs your hips, angling them up, pulling you flush against him. Entirely rough as he fucks into you at a slightly new angle, this on its own sends you wild.

Your back arches off the bed, crying out as he slams into you, your wet cunt taking him as deep as it allows. Squeezing around him so hard his jaw is going lax, curls on his head sticking to his forehead.

“Good girl,” he groans out, “taking my cock so fuckin’ well.”

“Knew how good this would feel. M’gonna want you all the fucking time.” Slapping your ass, he keeps the filthy words coming from his mouth, “Gonna be bending you over any chance I get, angel.”

“Please…” you nod feverishly, “Need you all the time, need your cock.”

His tattooed arm comes from your hip and runs up along your side, hand cupping your bouncing tits. Squeezing one of them, he then trails up your neck and coming to cradle your jaw. His thumb slides past your lips and presses into your wet mouth.

You don’t need him to even tell you, you just suck on it, letting saliva pool around his warm finger that’s rubbing circles against your tongue. He draws it in and out, rubbing over your plump lips and tracing a line down your chin. Eventually coming to flick his thumb against your nipple— your own spit coating it.

All of this, and you start to feel the pressure build in your stomach, of course you couldn’t last long as he fucked you like this.

“Harry!” His name started to come from your lips over and over again. Legs beginning to shake, heart racing in your chest.

“Gonna come?” he grunts out, “this sweet pussy gonna come around my cock? Drip all over it?”

You cry out as his body pounds against you, his hands guiding your hips into the movement as your eyes physically can’t stay open. You swear stars are beginning to explode behind them.

They squeeze shut as your whole body almost stops working. Your heart and lungs feel like they completely seize as you hang onto the peak of your orgasm for a breathless moment.

“Fuck—“ he hissed out, feeling how tight you’ve gone around him, “I’m gonna finish with you, cmon baby.”

His fingers come to quickly rub over your clit— a few fast, tight circles, and that is all it takes.

Your moan reverberates around the four walls of his room as you come for the second time, bouncing against his cock as your whole body writhes in your climax.

“Harry, I’m coming!” Your voice is pitched so high, half whine half cry as you state the obvious. As if he missed the fast clenching of your entrance around him.

“Fuck— fuck, im—“ He can’t get the sentence out as his cock starts to pulsate, his balls tightening as he realises he’s about to follow along with you.

He gives a final, deep and hard thrust that brings him to his orgasm. You feel the heat of his come inside of you as the movements of his hips become sloppy with each squeeze of his cock.

The strength of his climax is only amplified by you edging him accidentally earlier, he feels this in his bones.

“Yessss—“ The feeling of him emptying out in your cunt is like heaven, “give it all to me, Captain.”

“Want all my come huh, fuckin’ filthy thing?” He rasps, body hunched over at the heat still bursting through his whole body.

You both ride out your highs with eachother. Hands coming to touch eachother all over as your bodies begin to slow down. His palms skate over your breasts, and your own fingers run up and down his tensed arms. The two of you start to stop shaking and squeezing as the high of your orgasms naturally close out.

The sound of panting is all that fills the room. Breaths laboured and exhausted.

“Baby,” he says, sounding entirely out of breath, “took me so good.”

He leans down to kiss you gently, and you whine against his lips, unable to find the words for anything that just happened.

Slowly, you make out with eachother. Tongues licking gently along lips and against one another. An entirely different sort of intimacy from the sex you just had, and a silent form of a thank you as he slides his cock out of you.

He groans into your mouth as he does it, feeling sensitive as he slips out of your warmth. He pulls away to look at the state of you, something he’s not willing to miss.

The sight was something he wish he could capture forever— no matter how filthy it sounds. Your pussy is swollen, all fucked out as his come is starting to drip out of you.

You watch him stare, a prideful smirk on his lips at the mess he’s made of you. Chocolate curls over his forehead, cheeks and lips flushed a warm red, and his tan skin glistening in a sweat.

Looking at him is like looking at a painting.

He longs to lean down and clean you up with his mouth, but it’s clear how exhausted you both are, so he gets up instead— despite you begging him to stay, he kisses your forehead, “Just getting a cloth to clean y’up. I’m coming back.”

Running water over a washcloth in the bathroom, he comes back out to wipe the fresh and damp material over you. You whine at the touch, the area sensitive from two intense orgasms. Despite the dirty nature of it, it makes him smile softly.

Tending to you after he’s fucked you breathless is almost half the treat. Watching you smile back at him, how content you look. Knowing you’re safe in his company.

Once you’re cleaned up, he chucks the dirtied cloth back in the bathroom to be dealt with later, not wasting any more time and coming to lay back down with you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, now that your brain is clearing you’re becoming unsure what to do now. Do you act as normal? He senses your sudden unease like instinct, wrapping a hand around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

“Don’t be shy, y’fine dove.” He kisses you again, hand running over your side comfortingly, “just had m’cock in you, no room left for that.”

You nod into the gentle kiss he’s giving you, pressing your body to his as you feel less anxious now he’s affirming everything is okay.

As you both lay with eachother, softly touching skin, you wonder what this will change. How the after effects of this will alter the future.

You’re hyperaware standing on top of a precipice of change. Despite wishing you could act naive, and attempt to believe that everything can go back as it once was— you know that will never happen. It’s something you’re both excited and terrified of. But in this moment, with the way the captain of this ship is holding you, touching you, kissing you— you can’t help but feel like everything is going to be alright.

———

taglist:

@saturnheartz @slap-me-harry @ilovehsstuff @ameerakane20 @matildasatellite @harrysslut7 @sunflowersey @styleswiftie @anotheryoutubefanpage @straightontilmornin @oknothanks26 @closureesny @angel-upon @brother-lauren @maddie7writes @tenaciousperfectionunknown

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part<3

another a/n:

wow!! so hello

mini catchup on me being absent for literally half of last year!! 2024 I was sooo busy with my studies, but you’d all be proud since I pulled some really good grades last year, so my absence in creative writing field on tumblr did have a reason and at the very least paid off. but I missed posting soo much and I’m so happy to be back. unbelievably grateful for how many messages and inboxes I got about my writing over last year as well, I love you all so much.

i literally can’t believe it’s been so long since part 3 of pirates gold was released. really left yall high and dry😔 hopefully not after this part, I swear this is the longest piece I’ve ever wrote on tumblr, so I hope you all have enjoyed it. I have plenty of plans for part 5 in my notes app so yall keep ur eye out for that.

thank you for not only reading my silly authors note, but for reading this next part. your support means the world, and I am planning on being much more active this year so get excited for heaps of oneshots and other tidbits.

much love to you all, stay safe and hydrated I’ll see you very soon!!

P.S ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS I MISSED💔 I have reread this as much as my brain will allow me the last week, I will be making edits over the next little while to fix those mistakes but hopefully there’s not too many x

[mellowmusings]

death bed | coffee for your head

Azriel x sick reader part. 2

A/N- I had the idea for this when I heard the song and instead of sick Azriel I made a sick reader, please don't kill me and let me know if you wanna be tagged. Enjoy :). Warning- Angst, reader is depressed and sick, Azzie baby is depressed too. Mainly a really sad fic (mentions of death due to illness). Summary- You had been sick for sometime now and upon visiting a healer you find out the reason, unsure how much time you have left, you wish to spend every second of it preparing Azriel for the moment you leave.

'Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed'

You were tired to say the least, for the past few nights you hadn't been able to sleep at all, and your sweet mate was worried sick for you, and so you had to change your plans for the day, ditching shopping for a visit to Madja instead.

A bell rang as you step into the healer's shop, the air was thick with the scent of dried herbs and incense, instantly calming your nerves. Soft light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on shelves cluttered with jars, vials, and bundles of plants you didn't recognize. The space felt ancient, yet welcoming, as if it held the quiet weight of countless healing rituals. A small wooden counter sat at the back, covered with bottles and unmarked potions. The faint sound of wind chimes hung in the air, but it’s the stillness that stood out—everything in this room felt intentional, designed to soothe, to listen. There attending to a small plant with the smallest flowers you had ever seen stood Madja.

Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep I don't wanna pass away I've been thinking of our future 'Cause I'll never see those days I don't know why this has happened, but I probably deserve it I tried to do my best, but you know that I'm not perfect

You felt like throwing up, surely this was a joke? it had to be a joke, no she was lying or maybe you had misheard her, it had to be that way, right? "I know this can be shocking news y/n but like I said it's also a very rare illness" "No,no you're lying please tell me you're lying". She begged. Her voice broke on the last word, she couldn't breathe she felt choked, she wanted to throw up but instead she just fell to her knees and cried her heart out.

I've been praying for forgiveness, you've been praying for my health When I leave this earth, hoping you'll find someone else 'Cause, yeah, we're still young, there's so much we haven't done Getting married, start a family, watch your husband with his son

She didn't know how long she spent crying there with Madja comforting her and stroking her back, she was in shock but more than that she was worried for Azriel, if something happened to her then- No, no she wasn't going to think about that right now but for some reason her thoughts kept circling back to Azriel, to the quiet that would fill the room when she was gone. He’d wake up, reach for her, and feel nothing but emptiness. The bed would be cold, the silence too heavy. He’d feel it in the small things—no more shared glances, no more soft words in the dark.

Would he be okay without her? She couldn’t shake the fear that the grief would swallow him, that the shadows he kept so tightly contained would consume him without her there to pull him back. Would the memories be enough, or would they slip through his fingers? The thought of him unraveling, of him breaking, made her heart ache in a way she couldn’t ignore. She wouldn’t be there to catch him, and that terrified her.

Her gaze caught on a lovely family in the park, children being chased by their dad, their mom laughing at the scene and smiling lovingly at her partner, right, she would never be able to have that with Azriel either. Maybe, one day he'll find someone else, who'd love him just as much as she did, someone who'd start a family with him, give him heirs as lovely as he is. She hoped so because if Madja was right then-

I wish it could be me, but I won't make it off this bed I hope I go to heaven, so I see you once again My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed, yeah

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Yeah, I'm happy that you're here with me I'm sorry if I tear up When me and you were younger, you would always make me cheer up Taking goofy videos while walking through the park You would jump into my arms every time you heard a bark

You lay back against the pillows, your chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. Azriel sat beside you, his fingers gently brushing over your hand, but the tension in the air was thick, suffocating. You could feel the worry in his touch, in the way he kept glancing at you, like he was afraid to miss something, afraid to lose you before he could even understand what was happening.

"Azriel," you whispered, your voice trembling as you gathered the courage to finally say the words. "I’m sick." You tried to keep your tone calm, but it cracked as soon as the words left your lips. "The healer said it’s a rare heart condition. Something... incurable."

His face froze, eyes widening with disbelief, and he leaned forward, as if to pull you into him, to somehow shield you from the world. But you didn’t want his protection right now. You wanted him to hear this. To know the truth, even if it shattered him.

"I wish it could be me," you continued softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I wish I could take it all. The pain. The time. But I—" You faltered, and the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. "I won’t make it off this bed, Azriel."

His hand tightened around yours, his breath shaky, but he said nothing, his eyes begging you to take it back, to tell him it wasn’t true. But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

"I hope I go to heaven," you murmured, forcing a small smile through your tears. "So I can see you again. One day, after this... after all of this."

Azriel’s face crumpled with pain, his eyes bright with unshed tears. He reached for you, pulling you close as if he could somehow hold you together, like he could make everything right if he just tried hard enough. "No," he whispered, his voice raw. "No, please. Don’t say that. Don’t leave me." It hurt to see the brave and stoic shadow singer crumble infront of you over such a small matter, he had faced death time and time again, but never had you seen him so broken.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of him holding you, but there was no denying it now. You couldn’t keep pretending. You couldn’t keep fighting against what you knew in your bones was coming.

"I’m not ready," you whispered, voice barely audible, "but I think... I think you need to be. This is the reality now, Love. I won’t have much time left."

Azriel held you tighter, but it was clear that he was barely holding on himself. You could feel his heart racing against yours, the fear, the love, the desperation. But you knew, deep down, there was no way to stop it.

"I just need you to be ready," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "Because I won’t be here for long. I need you to promise me something, Az."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face a mask of agony, but he nodded, clinging to your every word.

"Promise me you won’t forget me," you said, the ache in your chest growing, but you didn’t want him to carry this burden forever. "Promise me you’ll live, not survive, but live, even if I’m not there."

He pressed his forehead to yours, and for a moment, it was like the world stopped moving. "I’ll never forget you," he said hoarsely. "And I’ll never stop loving you, not even after…"

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek, but you could feel the finality of it, the quiet acceptance in your soul that you had already said goodbye. "I know. But you have to promise me, Love. Please. Live, for both of us."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy, inevitable. And in that moment, you let go. You accepted what was coming, not with peace, but with a sorrow that was too vast to express.

Azriel didn’t say anything after that. He just held you, and in the silence of the room, you both faced what you knew was coming, as painful and unbearable as it was.

Cuddle in your sheets, sang me sound asleep And sneak out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03 Sundays went to church, on Mondays watched a movie Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me

You were curled up against Azriel, the quiet crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. He held you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield from the world. The memories flowed easily now, the ones you both cherished, the ones you were trying so hard to relive, to hold on to.

"Cuddle in your sheets," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "like we used to, like we did so many times. You’d sing me to sleep, your voice soft, your hand in my hair."

Azriel’s thumb brushed over your skin as if committing the sensation of this moment to memory, the feeling of your body pressed against his. "I’ll sing you to sleep forever if I can," he replied, voice thick with emotion. "But you know... I think the best part was sneaking out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03. I used to look at the clock, and I knew you’d be there. We’d laugh, sneak away like we didn’t have a care in the world."

You chuckled softly, a tear slipping down your cheek at the thought. "Sundays, we went to church together. Mondays, we’d watch a movie, get lost in each other’s company. Simple, sweet. And it was ours." You pulled back slightly to look up at him, a small, sad smile on your lips. "I wish we had more of those Mondays."

Azriel's eyes softened with the weight of your words, his voice barely more than a broken whisper. "We still have now," he said, but even he knew the truth in the heaviness of his words. Time was running out.

You closed your eyes, trying to soak in every moment, every detail. You could feel the pain of the inevitable, but for tonight, for this brief moment, you clung to the idea that you could still make new memories. "But soon you'll be alone," you whispered, a sob escaping before you could stop it. "I’m sorry that you have to lose me."

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, his face pressing into your hair. "Don’t say that," he murmured, though his voice was thick with sorrow. "I’ll never lose you. Not really. Not in my heart."

You nodded, your body trembling in his arms. "I hope so," you whispered, holding him tighter. "But I’ll always love you. Every memory, every laugh, every quiet Sunday. I’ll carry those with me, even when I’m gone."

And for a moment, time felt still, like the universe had paused just long enough for you both to hold on to each other a little tighter, to try and make every second count before it was all gone.

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Azriel sat beside you, his hand resting gently on your own, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill that seemed to constantly settle in your bones. Your breathing was shallow, weak, each rise and fall of your chest an effort, and yet, despite it all, you smiled up at him. It was the kind of smile that told him you were fighting, even when it seemed like there was no fight left in you.

"I don't want you to stay awake for too long," you whispered, your voice thin, but still full of the love you carried for him. "I know you watch over me, but you need sleep too, Azriel." Your hand squeezed his, the action small but intentional.

He looked at you, eyes filled with an ache that ran deeper than the shadows that normally clung to him. His gaze searched your face, searching for something, anything that might bring you back to him, but there was nothing he could do to stop what was coming. His grip tightened, but he didn't speak. What could he say? Every word felt like a lie in the face of what you both knew was inevitable.

"You've been so strong," he finally whispered, voice hoarse. "Please, don’t give up on me now." His thumb stroked over your knuckles, as if grounding himself in the reality that, in his heart, he knew you were slipping away.

You let out a soft, raspy laugh, and though it was faint, it made him want to smile, even though the pain was consuming him. "I’m not giving up," you said, each word a battle, but the light in your eyes still bright enough to pierce through the darkness. "I’m just… trying to make the most of the time we have left."

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, his chest tightening, but you gently cupped his cheek, urging him to look at you. "Don’t stay awake for too long," you repeated softly, your hand slipping into his as you pressed it over your heart. "Don’t go to bed, not yet. I’m still here. I’m still with you."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. You felt his warm breath on your skin, a small reminder of how much he loved you. How much he needed you.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Let me make you coffee in the morning, just like we used to. I’ll get you out of bed. I’ll help you find your strength again, just like before."

You smiled at him, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision. "I’ll make the coffee," you whispered, "when I can. I’ll make sure you get through it, even after I’m gone. I wrote you letters. Letters for the years to come, so you’ll know I’m still with you. So you’ll know that I’ll always love you, even when I’m not there."

Azriel’s heart shattered. "No," he said hoarsely, "No, you can’t leave me." His voice broke at the end, the rawness of his fear leaking through. You were fighting so hard, so fiercely, for him, but he couldn’t stop the truth from settling in his chest.

"You’ve always been my strength, Azriel," you whispered, your voice so soft, but so full of love. "And I’ll be yours, even when I’m not here to hold you. I need you to live. To keep fighting. And when the days feel long, when the nights feel too empty, I want you to read those letters. They’re for you. I’ll make sure you find your way."

Azriel couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. He leaned down, kissing your forehead, his lips trembling against your skin. "I’m going to keep you here with me, in my heart. Forever. I promise. I won’t forget, I swear it."

You smiled through the tears, despite the weariness that clung to your body. "I’m not leaving you, Azriel," you whispered, "not really. Not ever."

But the truth, unspoken between you both, was that you didn’t have much longer. And still, you fought, not for yourself but for him, so he could have something to hold on to after you were gone.

"Please," he begged softly, his voice breaking, "don’t leave me."

You brushed a tear from his cheek, as your voice trembled, "I’ll never really leave you, Azriel. I’ll always be with you. In every letter, in every thought."

You paused, a soft, warm breath escaping your lips. "I’ll get you out of bed, Azriel," you whispered, a hint of a smile on your face, "I’ll get you going again. Even if I’m not there to see it."

His tears fell freely now, but there was a quiet peace in the way he held you—knowing, with an ache so deep it felt like it might swallow him whole, that he would carry you forever.

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

A few weeks had passed, and the weight of each day was beginning to take its toll. The glow in your eyes had dimmed, and your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. Azriel stayed by your side every moment, his presence constant, like a shadow you never wanted to be without.

He had been trying to hold on to the last threads of you, keeping the hope alive that maybe, somehow, you would pull through. But he knew. He knew with every soft breath you took, with every fleeting smile you gave him, that time was slipping away from both of you.

Today, though… today it felt like everything was slower. The air in the room was thick with an aching kind of quiet, the kind where even the heartbeats that echoed in the space between you seemed too loud.

Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, his arms around you, pulling you close like you’d always been. His fingers lightly traced the line of your jaw, like he could imprint your face into his soul if he touched you long enough. His lips pressed to your forehead, trying to pour every ounce of love and comfort he could into you, but it felt like it was never enough.

You had grown weaker. Your skin was pale, your breathing labored, but you still smiled at him when your eyes fluttered open.

"I’m still here," you whispered softly, your voice raspy but filled with the love you had for him. "I’m still here, Azriel."

He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, his throat tight. "You don’t have to fight anymore," he murmured, brushing the damp strands of hair from your face. "I’ve got you. I’ll never let you go."

You smiled faintly, your hand reaching for his, weak but determined. "I know," you whispered. "I know… but I have to tell you something, something important."

Azriel leaned closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Anything," he breathed. "Tell me anything, love. I’m listening."

"I wrote letters," you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open. "For the years to come… For you. So you know I’ll always be with you, even when I’m not." He silently promised himself would read every letter you left behind, each one a piece of your love, keeping him alive in a world where you no longer were.

Azriel’s chest tightened, a sob breaking free from deep inside him. "You don’t have to go," he said, his voice raw, breaking with the weight of everything he wished he could say, everything he wished he could change. "I can’t… I can’t lose you."

A tear slipped down your cheek, but your smile didn’t fade. You reached up with trembling fingers, tracing the line of his jaw, as if trying to memorize him the way he had memorized you. "You’ll be okay, Azriel. You’re so strong. You’ve always been strong. Just—just remember that I love you. I always will."

His breath caught in his throat as he kissed your hand gently, his voice cracking. "I love you," he whispered, "I love you more than I could ever put into words."

You closed your eyes, your hand slipping from his, but he caught it again instantly, holding on as if it would keep you tethered to him, keep you from slipping away.

Your breathing grew even more shallow, each one taking more effort than the last. Azriel could feel the tremor in your body, the slow, inevitable shift that told him everything he feared was coming. But he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

"I’m not ready to let you go," Azriel murmured, his voice hoarse, tears streaming down his face as he held you in his arms. "I’ve never been ready to let you go. Not now, not ever."

You gave him one last, gentle smile, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. "You’ll always have me," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "In every letter, in every thought, in every coffee you make. You’ll find me again, in the quiet moments. I’ll always be with you."

And then, as if your body had finally found peace, your chest stilled. Your breathing slowed, and for the first time in weeks, there was complete silence. Azriel’s heart shattered, his breath caught in his throat, and for a long moment, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

"No," he choked out, his voice breaking, his chest heaving with the weight of loss. "No, please…"

But there was no response. Only the soft, quiet sound of his heartbeat echoing through the silence, as if trying to fill the emptiness you left behind. His arms tightened around you one last time, as if holding you could bring you back, as if love could defy death.

For a long while, Azriel stayed there, clutching you to him, his tears falling onto your skin. He couldn’t let go. Not yet. He needed to hold you, to feel you close, to believe, for just a little longer, that you weren’t truly gone.

And in the stillness of the room, as the shadows of night stretched across the floor, Azriel whispered the only thing left in his broken heart.

"I’ll always love you. Always."

The room was silent. Still. But his words lingered in the air, a promise he would carry with him forever.

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Azriel stood at the edge of the balcony, staring into the endless void of night. The stars above seemed to mock him, distant and cold, twinkling as though the universe was still moving forward, as though life was continuing. But for him, everything had stopped.

The wind swept through the courtyard, its icy fingers clawing at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the cold that had settled deep in his chest, in his soul. He had not moved from that spot since… since that moment. The moment she had slipped away from him, her final breath trembling in his arms, leaving nothing but an echo of the love they had shared. The world felt like a hollow, silent place, and he was drowning in its emptiness.

He could still smell her, faintly. Her scent lingered in the air, in the folds of the blanket she had used to curl up in, in the spaces between the letters she had written him, all the things that were now gone—faded into the dust of the world she had left behind.

Her letters. He had read them, over and over, each one a tear-streaked page of her love for him, a love he could no longer feel against his skin, in her touch, in her smile. He had read her last words, over and over, searching for some kind of comfort. But the comfort never came. The words she had left behind—I’ll always be with you, Azriel—only left him feeling more alone. Her absence was a shadow that consumed everything.

"I’ll always be with you," he muttered bitterly to the darkened sky, as if the universe owed him something. "Where the hell are you now?"

He wanted to scream. To shout into the abyss that had taken her from him, to demand it give her back. But what was the point? The universe didn’t care. Time didn’t care. And now, all that was left was his hollow existence.

The days blurred together, the ache of her absence cutting deeper with every passing hour. He had stopped sleeping, stopped eating. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but exist, moving through each day as if in a fog. The shadows whispered her name—her voice, her laughter, the warmth of her skin against his—and all he could do was shut his eyes and pretend he didn’t hear them.

But the silence… the silence was the worst.

Everywhere he went, there were reminders. The empty corner of the room where her chair used to sit, the books she had loved scattered across the table, the coffee mug she had left on the counter—his mug now, though it meant nothing. All of it was just a reminder that she was gone, and he was left alone, trapped in a world where nothing made sense without her. Without her laughter, without the way she’d tease him in the mornings, the soft way she’d press her face to his chest when she needed comfort.

She had been everything to him. His light, his warmth, his reason to fight. And now…

The darkness pressed in on him, a crushing weight on his chest. His wings, once majestic and powerful, now felt like an anchor. He had no use for them anymore. They had carried him through battles, through pain, through moments of glory. But now they felt like a reminder of how empty he was. How much of a shell he had become.

The weight of the silence was unbearable. He could feel the crushing loneliness clawing at him, desperate to consume him whole. And as he stood there, staring out into the endless night, he almost wished for it to. He almost wished for the silence to swallow him, to take him with her, because what was the point of living in a world where she wasn’t there?

“I can’t keep doing this,” he whispered to the darkness, his voice cracking. His breath came in short, uneven bursts, each one a reminder that he was still alive—still breathing, even though every part of him screamed to be gone. To be where she was, wherever that was, because life without her felt like a slow, torturous death.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it as if the physical pain would distract him from the ache in his chest. But it didn’t. Nothing could.

The weight of everything pressed on him—the guilt, the anger, the regret. He had promised her, promised her, that he would take care of her, that he wouldn’t let her go. But in the end, he had failed. He hadn’t been enough to save her. And now, she was gone, and all he had left were the memories. The hollow echoes of her voice, her laughter, her touch.

“I wasn’t enough for you,” he whispered, a raw, broken sob escaping him. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, his wings folding around him like an armor of despair. “I couldn’t save you. And now… now I have nothing.”

He curled into himself, his arms wrapping around his knees, his head pressed against them as the tears came in waves. His body trembled with the force of it. Every sob was like a shard of glass digging deeper into his heart, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

The world had moved on. The stars had continued to shine. The wind had continued to blow. But for Azriel, it had all stopped. Because she was gone, and no matter how many times he whispered her name into the darkness, no matter how many times he begged for her to come back, he knew the truth.

She was gone. And he was broken beyond repair.

Time would pass, the seasons would change, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered without her.

And as the silence closed in around him, Azriel made a vow to the shadows, to the darkness that now felt like home.

He would never forgive himself. He would never forget the way she had died in his arms, the way he couldn’t save her. And as the cold night wrapped itself around him, he whispered through clenched teeth, “I’ll make the world pay. I’ll make everything pay for taking you from me.”

But even as the words left his lips, he knew they wouldn’t bring her back.

And he would have to live with that.

Taglist: @anarchiii @er1023 @siriuslystyle1989 @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @starlightazriel

[wonupatootie]

윤정한 // Yoon Jeonghan Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part II

Where are you my happiness 내 행복 전부 여기 있네 널 찾아서 너무 좋아~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

“To Live Again” by @viastro

Gn!reader || time travel au, childhood friends to lovers, slowburn, angst, some fluff, some humour || W.C: 38.8k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Paris” by @amourcheol [absolute legend!!]

Fem!reader || old hollywood au, exes to lovers, angst, fluff, smut || W.C: 50k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“LMLY” by @trustmypoison

Fem!reader || wedding au, best friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut || W.C: 45k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Choi Y/N hasn’t seen her long lost best friend Yoon Jeonghan in four years and doesn’t even recognize him at first when paramedics roll him into the OR after a motorcycle accident during her shift. She kind of expects to go back to being total strangers as soon as he’s discharged, but Seungcheol has other plans in mind for them when he asks them to be Best Man and Maid of Honor for his wedding. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“I Think We Married in Vegas” by @sungjinhos

Friends to lovers, comedy, angst, smut || W.C: 28.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Love Café” by @chocosvt

Fem!reader || romance, angst, fluff, smut || W.C: 17.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Hate is a Strong Word” by @veethefreeelf

Fem!reader || coworkers au, enemies to fuck buddies, smut || W.C: 15k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You were living out your dream working in an ideal company with great colleagues and friends, except one. Yoon Jeonghan has been your nemesis from the moment the both of you stepped into this company. Sometimes you wonder if you’re living your dream or stuck in a nightmare.

⤷“Love is a Strong Word” (Part 2 of Hate is a strong word)

Fem!reader || coworkers to lovers, angst, smut || W.C: 15k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･It’s been a year since you moved away to a new branch. If you’re being honest, things haven’t been great. Being away from all you know and all you wanted has made you realize a lot of things and made you wish you had done things differently. Maybe moving back would be better for you. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“How Many Times Does it Take to Get Smarter?” by @veethefreeelf

Fem!reader || Best friends to fwb, smut || Parts: 2 || Total W.C: 20.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Jeonghan and you start a fwb relationship after years of being best friends. He only has two rules: no feelings and no kissing. Who’s going to break the rules first?

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“Water” by @onlymingyus

Fem!reader || smut, angst, romance, angst, comedy || W.C: 19k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to Paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret…that’s something completely different.

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“To You” by @simpxxstan

Fem!reader || friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut || W.C: 16.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･jeonghan loves to play cupid. he's thoroughly successful at it as well. you know it's just his incredible luck, and you can't wait for him to trip and fall. even if you'll be the first one to stop him from falling.

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“(Tryna Do) What Lovers Do” by @vitaminkyeom

Fem!reader || college au, fake dating, friends to lovers, humour, fluff || W.C: 15k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When you had roped Jeonghan into your idea of being a ‘pretend’ couple, you did not expect the lie to grow this big. What was supposed to be a one day thing soon became a rather frequent occurrence. And the gravity of the situation did not really hit you until your parents were requesting an audience with your new ‘boyfriend’. Will the two of you be able to keep your act till then? Or, in which, you keep promising yourself that this would be the last day you pretend to have feelings for Yoon Jeonghan.

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“Holidate” by @onlymingyus

Afab!reader || fake boyfriend au, smut, angst, fluff || W.C: 13k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･It's only for a week, he's doing you a favor, and he's your fake boyfriend. Why do you have to keep reminding yourself of that?

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“Playboy” by @starlightxsvt

Fem!reader || sugar daddy au, strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, angst, some fluff || W.C: 18.8k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you try to steal from him. things take a turn when he catches you on the act. seemingly for the better at first but then for the worse when you catch feelings for him.

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“Every Summertime” by @lovelyhan

Afab!reader || 70s au, pining, smut, angst || W.C: 16.1k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you're not really interested in the record shop downtown. but people aren't oblivious to the way you keep trying to get into the owner's pants—not even the owner himself.

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“Bound to You” by @onlymingyus

Fem!reader || supernatural au, soulmate au, smut, angst || W.C: 12.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･There is a little magic in everyone but there is something about you that makes Jeonghan curious about more than just your name.

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[neonmoonster]

“Of course I didn’t want you!”

Anakin recoiled like he had been slapped.

The anger he had felt only moments before towards the man in front of him dissipated and reformed into the keenest hurt he had ever experienced.

He had known this, of course—had known it forever, and he had prepared himself for the day the truth finally came out, building walls around his heart and forcing distance between himself and Obi-Wan for this very inevitability—but actually hearing it, actually hearing Obi-Wan say those words aloud? 

Nothing could have prepared Anakin for this moment.

I didn’t want you. 

Obi-Wan was still talking, ranting, but his words seemed far away, distant, like he was standing at the end of a tunnel, miles away from Anakin, who felt lightheaded, unsteady on his feet.

“—ster had just died, the Sith were back, and here was this boy,” Obi-Wan’s voice, tight and forceful, floated in and out of the air, “This boy for whom my master discarded me without a second thought, this boy, who was now my responsibility to raise and train.”

Anakin couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the resentment in the set of his mouth, the long-buried hatred in the furrow of his brow. 

“My responsibility—me, a barely knighted Jedi, practically a padawan myself.”

Obi-Wan let out a bark of disbelieving laughter, a sharp edge to it that sliced Anakin to his core.

“I could barely take care of myself in the days after Qui-Gon died, let alone another human being. And now I had the duty to fulfill my master’s dying wish to train this boy on the off-chance that he would save the galaxy.” 

Do not cry.

Anakin willed himself to keep looking down, to stay impassive, to not raise Obi-Wan’s ire higher than it already was. If he betrayed how much these words cut him, how deep a wound they inflicted on his heart, then the magnitude of his attachment would be revealed, and that would only make Obi-Wan hate him more. 

And Anakin didn’t think he could take any more of Obi-Wan’s hate.

Do not cry.

He heard Obi-Wan take a steadying breath, audibly reigning himself in. When he spoke next, his voice was softer, yet reverberated through Anakin's mind as if he had screamed them.

“So, no. I did not want you.” 

He sensed Obi-Wan, his accursed, beloved former master, take a step towards him. Anakin stilled, a horrible thought overtaking him.

Would he strike him? Obi-Wan had never—would never—but he had also never said anything like this out loud to Anakin before. He had finally crossed the line.

Done the un-take-back-able.

Anakin had always walked a thin line with Obi-Wan, pushing and prodding, bringing out Obi-Wan’s frustration, his rolled eyes, dry jabs, and sometimes disappointed frown, but he had somehow avoided tipping the scales all the way over—at least, not until now.

Now, when he had finally pushed too far. 

Fuck. 

Do not cry. Do not cry—

A hand fell on his shoulder. It took everything in Anakin not to flinch.

“But don’t you ever think,” Obi-Wan said, the fierce passion back in his voice and Anakin’s stomach sank, sank sank. “Not even for one second, that you were not the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

Anakin’s head snapped up in shock. The very thing he had wanted to avoid doing at all costs, but surely he had misheard, surely Obi-Wan had not just said what he just said—

“You are the best friend I have ever had,” Obi-Wan said, and there was still that hard edge to his words, but now that Anakin was looking at him, he saw that his master's eyes were not filled with anger-hate-bitterness like he had feared, but simple determination.

A serious expression, but one that was interlaced with a gentleness that Anakin could only describe as fond.

“It has been… the honor and delight of my life to teach you,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin couldn’t move because the truth of it was ringing in the Force, unmistakable and passionate and firm. “And now to fight and live beside you as equals.”

Was Anakin dreaming?

A flicker of a smile crossed Obi-Wan’s face, like he was lost in remembrance and, oh, Anakin’s heart couldn’t take it, couldn’t handle this emotional whiplash, his greatest fear and most secret hope come to life over the course of a single conversation.

“It only took you about a day and a half to win me over. I was petrified every day that I would mess you up, leave you worse than I found you, let you down, Qui-Gon down, the galaxy down—but not once did I regret you. Not once would I have traded you away from anything.”

Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s shoulder and Anakin shuddered, letting out a choked whimper that he immediately wished he could take back, but Obi-Wan’s eyes softened, and through their bond Anakin could only feel kindness, affection, maybe even—

Obi-Wan's expression shifted once more, for the first time his steadiness in the force wavering, and he swallowed, appearing nervous, if Anakin didn't know any better.

"I do not always find it easy to express myself with words, like this. It is... difficult for me. But it appears that it is necessary today."

Anakin stared at him helplessly.

“I am unbearably sorry that I have ever made you believe otherwise. That you could ever think that you are not my favorite person in the world.”

Anakin could not stop the tear from falling down his cheek. And Obi-Wan Kenobi, high general of the Republic Army, one of the strongest, most respected masters in the Jedi Order, and Anakin's former teacher, gently caught it with the pad of his thumb and wiped it away.

"You are," Obi-Wan's voice came out rough and tinged with something that made Anakin's breath catch in his throat. But then just as quickly, Obi-Wan gave him a small smile, his voice clear once more, even dry and teasing.

“I hope that's alright with you.”

Anakin's answering smile was watery, but it could have lit up the entire galaxy anyhow.

[mykoreanlove]

소울메이트 🖤

Felix stands there, visibly shaken, his breaths uneven as he struggles to find the right words. His rough hands are trembling slightly as he rubs them together, almost as if grounding himself for what he’s about to say. When he finally meets your pained eyes, they’re shining with unshed tears, and his deep voice breaks before he even gets the first word out.

“Y/Nnie… I don’t know how to say this without sounding completely wrecked, but here I am, and I don’t care. I’ve never cared less about how I sound because… I need you to know this.” He exhales shakily, pressing a hand to his chest like the weight of his emotions is too much to hold in.

“I know your past feels like a thousand cuts that haven’t healed. I know you’ve been let down, left behind, used in ways you never deserved. And I can see it—how you look at me sometimes, like you’re waiting for the moment I’ll turn into just another wound for you to carry.” His voice cracks again, and this time he doesn’t try to hide it.

“But y/n, I’m not here to hurt you. I can’t hurt you. Do you know what it does to me to see you carry all that pain like it’s yours alone to bear? It kills me. It kills me because I see you, standing there, pretending you’re fine when you’ve been through hell. And the worst part? You’ve convinced yourself that’s just how it has to be. That you don’t deserve more. That you don’t deserve someone to hold you through it.”

Felix takes a step closer, his small hands trembling as he reaches for yours. “I know I’m not perfect. God, I’m so far from it. I have my own scars, my own baggage, and I’ve made mistakes that keep me awake at night. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s this: I love you. And not in some shallow, fleeting way. I love you in a way that terrifies me because it’s so deep, so absolute, that I don’t even know where I end, and you begin anymore.”

His voice softens, his light brown eyes locked onto yours as if his gaze alone could convey the depth of his feelings. “You are my soulmate, y/nnie. My beginning, my middle, my end. I’ve never believed in fate, not until I met you. But now, I can’t look at you without thinking that every step I’ve ever taken was leading me to this moment, to you. You’re the love of my life, y/n, and no one will ever take your place. No one could ever come close.”

He pauses, his raspy voice thick with emotion, and wipes his eyes, frustrated with himself for falling apart. “I know I can’t undo what’s been done to you. I know I can’t erase the times you were made to feel like you were nothing. But y/nnie, I can spend the rest of my life trying to show you that you’re everything. I don’t want to just love the pieces of you that are easy to love—I want the parts that scare you. The parts you think are too broken, too messy. I want all of it, all of you.”

Felix lets out a shaky breath, his grip on your fragile hands tightening. “And if you’re scared, that’s okay. I’m scared, too. Scared that I won’t be enough to heal those wounds. Scared that you’ll never believe me when I tell you how much you mean to me. But I’ll tell you anyway. I’ll tell you every day if I have to. Because you deserve that. You deserve someone who doesn’t run when things get hard, who doesn’t make you feel like you have to prove your worth. You deserve someone who sees you, baby—all of you—and chooses you every time.”

He pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a serene whisper, but it’s thick with raw, unfiltered emotion. “You don’t have to believe me right now. You don’t have to love me back the way I love you. But just… let me try. Let me show you that this can be different. That I can be different. That love doesn’t have to hurt anymore.”

Felix exhales sharply, his forehead resting against yours now, his tears finally spilling over. “I’ll wait, y/nnie. For as long as it takes. I’ll wait, because you’re worth waiting for. You’re worth everything. You’re the only one I’ll ever want, the only one I could ever love like this. You’re my everything.”

He presses your delicate hand to his chest, letting you feel the steady rhythm of his heart. “This heart? It’s yours. It’s always been yours, even before I met you. And I’m not going anywhere, no matter how many doubts try to pull you away from me. You can question this, you can question me, but I will keep showing up, every single day, because that’s what love does. That’s what soulmates do.”

His voice breaks slightly, but he keeps going, the raw sincerity in his words cutting through your high walls like nothing ever has before. “So please, y/n, stop punishing yourself for the past. Stop believing the lies that say you’re unworthy or unlovable. Because you are. You’re everything. And I’m here to remind you of that, over and over, until you believe it, too.”

Felix leans his forehead against yours, his raspy voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m yours, baby. Always. So, no matter how scared you are, no matter how hard this feels, just… let me love you. That’s all I’m asking. Let me prove to you that this time, it’s real. That I’m real. That we’re real.”

[midnight-mourning]

The Thought That Counts

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 10💘💘

This one was super interesting for me as someone who's ace to sit and think about, shout out to the aroaces, this one is for you, little hurt/comfort just because that's what i was feeling

Prompt: Sun and Moon discussing with an Aroace yn why they dislike romance? Or maybe just watching some really bad romcoms on a horrible day

Word Count: 1753

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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The sound of happy love songs has started to grate on you recently, you're not going to lie. You get maybe like, a couple days worth, but all week long feels a bit, excessive. Not to mention the barrage of lovey dovey advertisements, decorations, and so on you've seen everywhere you've went.

Sure, it all wasn't intentionally done to annoy or make you uncomfortable, but sometimes it certainly felt like it. 

As you walk into the Daycare for work, you do your best to ignore it as per usual. Today would hopefully be the last day—since it was Valentine's, after all—and then you could go back to living in peace. 

Again, it wasn't necessarily a hate for the holiday, rather it was just a general discomfort. Not typically feeling, if ever at all, attraction for other people just made you feel like you were getting pressured into a game everyone else was playing. Except for you that is. 

It just wasn't your holiday, and that was fine, you just simply wished others would see it that way too. Instead of having to constantly be on edge if you said the wrong thing about not wanting the persistent reminder that you don't fit inside the box everyone else puts you in. 

It was a bummer, and it hurt quite a bit. Losing friendships and the likes in certain cases. Just because of the fact you didn't experience the world the way they did. 

But, you'd deal with it. Just like you've always done. 

If you could, that is. 

Unfortunately, your favorite coworker(s) had made it a bit difficult to keep your head down and avoid like you typically did. 

Valentine's was their favorite holiday—though, you think they said that with every holiday—and thus they had to go all out for it. 

Every inch of the Daycare was covered head to toe with decorations, streamers and paper hearts covering every surface. Instead of the Daycare theme, age appropriate love songs played through the speakers up above softly, adding to the overly love-filled atmosphere. 

For them, you were sure it was great, exactly the vision they had in mind. For you, it was just, too much. 

But the decorations and the music weren't the problem. Unfortunately, it was Sun and Moon themselves causing the 'issues' you were dealing with. 

All week long they'd been leaving little things for you to find throughout the play area. Little handmade cards with endearing notes. Paper roses folded neatly by your belongings. 

It tore you up inside, mainly because you knew what this all was leading up to, and you were almost dreading having to tell them. It wasn't that you didn't care for them. You really, truly did. A lot. So much. 

But not like that. Not at this point, that is. Sure, maybe it was possible, but at the current moment, the idea of such just made you feel, off. 

So when Sun came up to you near the middle of your shift, something hiding behind his back, you already had a guess as to what it was. 

Before he said anything, he seemed to pause, almost deflating upon getting closer to you. 

You speak first, trying to keep your tone light. "Everything alright, Sunny?"

"Of course, Sunbeam!" Still, he keeps his hands behind his back. "But, is everything alright with you?"

You nod with a smile. "Of course. I'm just a little tired is all."

"Oh... are you sure? You've seemed a bit, upset all week long. Would you... like to talk about it?"

Your brows raise, both in surprise and in fear that you'd been found out. "I, no, that's okay! It's not um, something I really want to talk about right now."

"Right. Of course." He steps back, then another, then turns around but manages to keep whatever he was holding hidden from you. "Well, enjoy your break, friend!" 

He walks off then, before you can stop him, and your heart sinks a bit. 

The rest of the day proves to be, incredibly stressful. The party for the kids goes great, but it leaves you with a terrible disaster to clean up. It sours your mood more than you expected, especially after finding the mess of glitter glue hiding underneath one of the tables, you spend nearly thirty minutes scrubbing on your hands and knees to get it cleaned up. And when you emerge you remember all the rest of the clean up you still have to do, stressing you out even further.

With a sigh and a stretch to crack your back, you trudge over to where the trash is and deposit the used paper towels into it. You turn around to get back to work, but are shocked to find Sun standing there, looking a bit cheered up compared to your last 'official' conversation earlier. 

"Hello Sunshine!" 

You smile, tired. "Hi, Sun. Need something?"

"It's not what I need, but rather, what you need, friend." He pokes your chest once, rays spinning. "I have a little surprise for you. If you'll accept." 

Your brow furrows. This seems a bit different than earlier, so you're curious. "Oh?"

"Yup! Now come on!" He takes both your hands and starts pulling you out of the Daycare, heading in the direction of the theater, you in tow. 

You don't protest physically, too tired and stressed—as you quickly realize—but do speak up about it. "Woah! What about cleanup?"

"Clean up can wait! You obviously don't feel well, and we need to fix that immediately!" Sun pushes open the theater doors with his back, leading you inside. "And Moon and I have just the thing for it."

After your eyes adjust to the lighting, you're surprised to see there's a film pulled up on the large screen, with a couple of beanbags and blankets piled near the middle of the room. There's a smell of popcorn in the air that makes your mouth water. 

Sun finally stops once you're over by the beanbags, pushing you to sit down in one, covering you with a blanket once you comply. He sets a bag of popcorn and a couple boxes of candies in your lap. When he's done he pats your head and sits down in a bean bag not too far from you. But you do note it's not his usual spot beside you, but you let it go as he claps his hands. 

His rays spin. "Ready to get started? This is just for you, but we went ahead and took the liberty of picking the first film."

"I, yeah, I guess so. Thank you guys, I uh, needed a break." You take a bite of popcorn and turn to look at the screen. "More than I expected—Is this 'Valentine's Day'?!" You almost choke from your laughter. 

"Of course! It seemed fitting, and the reviews we read were very passionate!"

You shake your head, settling in. "Passionate is the key word there, I think."

The film passes by quicker than you'd expect, chatting with Sun every so often to explain why the story makes you laugh so much, explaining what exactly a romcom is, and just in general decompressing from the day. 

They let you pick the next one—with Moon getting to be out to watch this time instead—and you choose another classic bad movie, 'Bride Wars' to keep the theme up. 

Again with Moon though, he keeps his distance from you, settling in a respectable few feet away. Which, you did appreciate in the beginning, after being overwhelmed with the amount of in your face love-dovey stuff the past several weeks. But now, you're feeling, lonely. 

About a quarter of the way into this movie, you decide to speak up, turning to your lunar companion. 

"Hey. What's going on with you guys today?" You ask, reaching a hand over to rest on his. 

Moon flinches, not making eye contact with you. "We're just, we thought, it doesn't matter. We don't want you to be uncomfortable with us, Star."

"Uncomfortable? With you?" You shake your head. "Never. I mean, yeah I was a little worried when—" You stop, realizing it's not helping as he shrinks in on himself. "I, let me explain, I guess."

Moon nods, and you sigh. 

"Romance, just, isn't my thing. Not usually, if ever. I just, I don't really get those feelings for other people. And when it gets constantly shoved down your throat, you start to realize how uncomfortable with it you actually are. Really uncomfortable. I just wanna be me and not feel like I have to be something I'm not, that I can't be." You shake your head again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I can still feel attraction and the likes, and I, I care about you two a lot. Especially you two. But it's just, not like that? I want to be close with you, be around you all the time, I like your jokes, your teasing, talking to you, but the idea of romance, in general, just, gives me a bit of an ick sometimes, does that all make sense?" You lay back, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I—I think I'm in love with you both, but not in the way that I have romantic feelings for you? Sorry this is a word vomit of an explanation I'm sorry—"

You feel arms wrap around you, pulling you up into a hug. 

Moon's voice is soft, just a murmur. "We're sorry."

"Moon, it's not on you—"

You can feel him shake his head against you. "Not that. We mean we're sorry you have to deal with that. It's not fair."

"Oh, yeah. I guess so."

He pulls back, hand resting on your cheek as he looks down at you. "We care about you too, a lot. It, doesn't have to be anything more than that. It's enough just to be able to say it. Does that make sense?"

"Y-yeah. It does. More than you know." You feel your face heat up, either from embarrassment or excitement at understanding. You bury your head against his chest. "And as for like, the gifts and stuff, that's still okay. They're still sweet, and they mean a lot. I promise."

Moon snickers. "Sounds like you just enjoy getting things."

"Not true! I really do like it! It's the thought that counts." You protest, now fully embarrassed. 

Moon hugs you a little tighter, humming. "I suppose it is."

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Thank you for the request @starspindle! It was interesting to tackle in that through writing I learned a bit about myself and my own indentity, plus i just enjoy writing hurt/comfort hehe ^^

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

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[liaswills]

Pick a card: A message from your past life self! 🪦🗡

Hello darlings! Today I bring you another pick a card- I felt the need to bring out some messages. The energy today is very much revolving around death- and it's relatively natural relation to life. So today I will bring you a pick a card- with a message of what your past self would tell you! Naturally this is a general message so take whatever resonates. All the love, Elias!

Pick a pile from 1, 2, 3 or 4!

Hello, my dear self. Some day you have wondered who you are- who you should become. But I want you to know that no matter whom you try to be- or whom you'll grow to believe says the right thing- it'll always be me whom you will come back to. I'm not scary. I'm you. I like to brace the horizon- with a smile and breathe in the morning air. I'm a morning person. I used to hunt birds- for food. And... truthfully- my life was never that long. I didn't get to experience my childhood as something I cherished. This is why you're not very good with people. I'm sorry that in this life- you too- struggle with being around crowds. You do- try to. Which is more than I ever did. I was more one with animals- nature- it's why... I never really got to be together with someone. Because I spent my life alone- you might feel like everyone hates you. Or suffer from anxiety everytime you try to make a friend- with your friends- or even the people you try to date or love. I'm sorry that this part of me- lingers- but no matter how it has manifested, it is what I desired most. Sometimes lives are so crowded that you just need one where you're by yourself. I did that already. You don't need to follow my example- because I want for you to flourish and be a butterfly. To do what I haven't. To be brave. To be bold. To dare. Dream. I know you think you're alone sometimes- but you're not! The spirits of all the animals I've taken care of- protect you still! It's amazing how loyal animals are. Yes- even your last pet. I know we have a special connection to animals- I know that we sometimes feel like they understand us- feel our energy- they do- but they won't create a depth in our emotional maturity and balance much like dramatic human relationships do. If you know me- you'd wish to have a life in social circles too. It wasn't fun. And I want to brace you to feel safe. To try and feel joy. To feel happiness. Try and do it when you can. Because that- will help me- and all of us before us. I'll be here to hug you. Because I'm your greatest supporter.

Forgiveness, is what it takes. Forgive me. Forgive yourself. I'm not like you- nothing like you at all. I was vain. And cruel. And unkind. I didn't see what you see. I didn't- I couldn't. I couldn't see how people were able to be the exact same as the other- i couldn't see how every life was worth living. I killed for things. I cheated in life. I climbed the social ladders and I hurt my hands doing so. I really fell. I fell in the end and it was my ending. I didn't have a long life- because when I was found out- everything I worked for, was done for. I wanted to become better. I needed to be a better self. You don't. You don't need to do this. If you continue down this road- if you continue to try and improve- it won't make you happy. It won't make me happy either. I think it's time for us to forgive ourselves. Because sooner than later- we are all that we have. I've known this too late. Very late. You need to start appreciating the things you do have. The money you do have. The family you live with. The country you're in. The name you have been given. Consider it all. You're almost there- you're almost free of this crude self torture. Just one more step- release this attachment. Release your ideas of how things should be. Please allow yourself to just be. To just trust in me. To trust in you. In us. Trust that we can do it. That we can do whatever we set our minds to. You've inherited my determination- don't spoil it with waivering in uneasyness. Don't spoil my end- for your life to be worse than mine. Don't befriend toxic people. Don't walk towards the red flags. I need you to see. See whom you're talking to. See whom you share your mind with. See what you think of without your phone for an hour. I need you to feel yourself- to love yourself- to feel our own world is more than what you think it is and could be. Forgive me- I was never from your world- but I was the you- you needed to become whom you are now. Forgive me. I'm sorry.

We aren't the same gender. I had to start with that. I've led a completely different existence based on my social norms and whom I was raised to become. If you're a fem energy- then I used to embody masculine. And vice versa. You might feel lingering touches of me- in the way that you can embody both energies. I want to say- I'm congratulating you- because I never dared or could. I lived very rigid. In a rigid place where I was expectant to preform a role in life. To be a provider- or a caretaker. I simply obeyed that life. I simply followed the norms. I don't want you to follow any norms other than your own. I fought bravely- I died gloriously- in battle- with a strong heart or perhaps not so strong considering it caved. I loved- I loved big. You inherited this. I loved my friends. My family. I even...loved another whom I couldn't be with. That longing for someone- I owe to you to release. I didn't really got the closure I needed. I didn't really tell this person- that my heart was theirs. And theirs alone. Yes- I've had children. I've done my duty- as was expected of me, but i didn't love my partner the way I loved this star crossed romantic ideal. It was an ideal. I never got to know them personally. It didn't matter. I liked to imagine what they would be like- and somehow that image of them was enough for me. I see you- I feel you, and your life is already so much more vibrant than mine. Thankyou! I truly- honestly, can say thank you. For being authentic- for truly honouring your own feelings. It doesn't matter what you become- or whom you'll chase- in the end, you've already done what you came here to do. For me- anyway. I think you're amazing. And you inspire me- and others, so much. So so so so so much. That truthfully- you should show yourself. To everyone. Haha. It isn't scary- remember your brothers- sisters- whom fought alongside you in the trenches- whom fought with you day and night to remain sovereign- to remain equal- to gain prowess and our voice back. Hang on Soldier- you have a long road to go. It'll be glorious- I can tell you that. From my point of view- your paving the way to a dream. I'll talk to you- in my mind- my world- my time- I talk to myself often actually, haha- but you will sometimes get more from talking to me too. Just... call me a friend you once were. And I'll be a friend to you too. It'll help greatly- I am indebted to you as much. Don't worry if you're not going to do it- I'm just here to give you the inspiration you need to get out there and flourish your shiny little way around the globe.

My funny Valentine.... sweet comic valentine....you make me smile, with my heart. Listen to "My funny valentine" by Chat Baker or Frank Sinatra, because I am giving you this song as I look upon you darling. I know sometimes we don't truly like ourselves. But you don't need to become someone else to love whom you truly are. Because you already do- trust me- the whole of you- all of us- all of your lives- we love you as you are and will continue to do so fiercely. Honestly- we were wild. I was wild. Haha. I was a bit freakishly in love with everyone. Gradually- that changed a little into a more tamed version of loving and being. But you inherited a spark of love for loving. Maybe... still a little unfooted- but, priceless either way. Truly- priceless to see. I know you think some things are scaring you- but they aren't truthful. It isn't real. It's hard to have trust in that but just trust me. Trust you. I am nothing but a charmy and flourishing lovely cottonball. Haha- joking! But we all are a little vixenous sometimes, right? Perhaps you will see me when we go out, that I enter your mind more and you become more me than I become you. Channel the spirit of the sex! Baby! Who did you think you were!? Don't say you're ashamed... I was truly... a heartbreaker but I am kind? That counts for something right. Hmmmm, what to tell you. I haven't really got a message for you. To be honest I think we're currently on our recreational life. Just do whatever you want dearie. I've got no problem with it. But... do tell your mother something like- love you, when you leave. I know! People, right!? Strange creatures. But you will come to know the greatest of people. The biggest. Bestest. Friends. Ever. Haha- woooooo! I am excited already for you. Anyway- lovely for you to think of me- I always imagined myself to be a celebrity in your life so who knows!? Did we.... do it? Oh who knows! Maybe that's just a fantasy. But romantizing life is what we're made for so- go ahead. Think and imagine and write away. Poetry is lovely. I find you adorable. And if you continue- we might find some treasures along the way.

[cybershock24601]

A woman who openly dislikes you also being basically the only person who speaks up from you is absolutely brain breaking. Especially bc with Illario it's like, it would be easy to fit in his worldview if she was a conquest or in some way attracted to him or something but she is very much not. Everything about their relationship suggests that the best behavior he can expect from her towards him is bare minimum civility and that is shown in most aspects of their interactions so what's it mean that "bare minimum civility" is treating him better than most of the people in his life.

Rook and Illario's relationship is insane to me because as I've said before my Rook was the one who advised Lucanis to lock Illario up for what at the end of the day were political reasons and absolutely gives him shit when he deserves it but is also the only person in Villa Dellamorte to really have Illario's back in a lot of ways.

Lucanis and Illario's relationship is so defined by Caterina's treatment and abuse of them that Lucanis is never going to be able to speak up for Illario when he can't even speak up for himself and I can see a young child who sees the safety in being the favorite not really wanting to risk losing that favor by stepping out of line and also starts to subconsciously rationalize and internalize Illario's harsh treatment from Caterina as Illario just not being as good as Lucanis. So much of Lucanis and Illario's dynamic was solidified as children and as neither one of them really had anyone close to them aside from each other there was never anything to really shake up their dynamic or cause them to really question it because that's just the way things are.

Enter Rook, especially a Rook who is not a Crow, who through their relationship with Lucanis is drawn into the family and gets to have a real good look at what the fuck is wrong with House Dellamorte. Rook's probably really quick to pick up on how Illario is treated in the family and sure Rook is pissed at him for what he's done to Lucanis and thinks he's an absolute idiot for working with the Venatori like he did, they still extend Illario empathy and some basic human decency which is so much more then Illario is used to.

Sure Illario can be an idiot sometimes but that doesn't make the way Illario is treated by his family right. I also think Rook - or that very least my Rook who has some similar issues of acting like a fool to keep people's expectations low so as to not to disappoint them when she can't live up to said expectations - starts to see through the mask of the carefree philanderer Illario wears and how much of his behavior stems from just playing into the low expectations everyone has of him. Rook, who is generally a pretty kind and empathetic person, would take it upon themselves to start calling out Caterina and Lucanis when they're being overly dismissive of Illario both as a person and an assassin because their behavior towards him can be really uncalled for a lot of the time and that just isn't right and Rook is definitely starting to get why things played out the way they did between Illario and Lucanis. Not that Rook is giving Illario a pass at all but Rook can acknowledge that Illario's actions did not come out of nowhere.

Illario who has grown up never expecting anyone to have his back is floored. Yes, Illario could trust that Lucanis would always back him up on a job but Lucanis would never really intercede on his behalf with Caterina, or at least if Lucanis ever did that was an impulse that was killed long ago probably due to Caterina's cane. So the fact that Rook who clearly isn't a fan of him is speaking up to her is mind blowing and Illario cannot make heads or tails of why Rook would do that. Not just talk back to Caterina because Rook has likely been speaking up for Lucanis' sake already which is an insane thing to do in the first place, but the fact that Rook is willing to do so for Illario just doesn't make any sense no matter how Illario looks at it because Rook just being a kind person is not a motive Illario is capable of considering. Illario spends a lot of late nights puzzling over what 5D chess game Rook is playing and what she must want to be doing all this.

Rook calling out Lucanis is also something that would stump Illario because it is clear Rook is head over heels for Lucanis so why would she potentially cause friction in her own relationship just for Illario's sake. Even stranger is that after several late night conversations behind closed doors between Rook and Lucanis, Lucanis' behavior towards Illario starts to change. It really freaks Illario out because why the fuck is Lucanis being so nice to him, is he dying??? Illario would wonder if he was possessed but he knows Lucanis is and the demon hates Illario's guts so what is going on?? It would probably take Lucanis and Illario some time to find a good equilibrium in their relationship as they start reconciling and unpacking the hurts in their past that lead to everything that happened because what Illario did was wrong and he knows that by now but it's nice to have Lucanis acknowledge just how much constantly being sidelined and considered second best hurt.

I think the real turning point in their relationship would be that the first time Lucanis stands up to Caterina is for Illario's sake. Illario had thought that if anything would get Lucanis to talk back to Caterina it would be Rook so the fact that the first person Lucanis really took an actual stand against Caterina for was Illario is inconceivable to him considering how the entirety of their lives have played out. It also brings up some lingering bitterness with no real target that Lucanis couldn't have done this before everything that happened between them and told Caterina that he didn't want to be First Talon. Things are still complicated between those boys and they always will be but they are getting better and it's pretty clear that Rook was the instigator for a lot of it.

[onceuponastory]

protective - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky gets protective over Y/N during a mission. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A guy being creepy, reader being slightly uncomfortable and Bucky wanting to fight the guy. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This is very loosely based on El Tango De Roxanne from Moulin Rouge because I love that scene & that song. Also I was thinking about a Moulin Rouge AU so lemme know your thoughts. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own. Thank you to @staticscreenwriting for my divider!

“I don’t like this.” Bucky hisses, throwing a hard stare across the room. Nervously, he taps his feet. Although, when he sees Y/N standing there, leaning against the bar as she sips from her drink, his face softens ever so slightly, and a small smile grows on his face. But once he remembers what they’re doing here, his hard stare returns. He really doesn’t like this. Not one bit.

“Don’t worry Buck. She’s got this.” Steve’s voice crackles over the headset. “Besides, she has a wire on, so we’ll be able to hear everything, and we can step in if we need to.” Despite how his words are trying to be supportive, Bucky doesn’t feel comforted at all by his words. 

Tonight, they’re on another mission, ready to stop some corrupt agent intent on causing chaos. And Y/N was sent undercover to charm him and try to extract information because she’s not as publicly known as the other Avengers. It’s not the first time Y/N’s done something like this, but this time, Bucky hates the thought of sending her out there alone. From what Bucky’s heard, despite the man’s kind facade, he’s extremely cruel when he needs to be, and he has no issue with stepping on people to get what he wants. And no doubt he would do just the same to Y/N if she ever got in his way. Despite how experienced she is, the thought of Y/N stuck there with him alone makes his stomach churn.

“Sam, do you have visuals on Y/N?”

“Yes, Bucky. I did the first time you asked, and I still do now.” Before Bucky even asks his next question, Sam answers it. “Yes, I’m keeping an eye on her.”

“Good.”

Bucky knows his two best friends are worried about Y/N too, but he also knows that they think he’s overreacting slightly that Y/N is going to be perfectly safe. Bucky just hopes they’re right. Y/N is incredibly skilled at going undercover, and there’s no doubt she’ll do just as well today and get the information they need. It’s just that Bucky cares too much about her to let her go into these dangerous situations alone. At least not without her knowing that he’s there on the other end if she needs him. He’s been in love with her for as long as he can remember, and the last thing he wants is for her to be put in danger. His gaze goes back to Y/N, and he sighs. She looks gorgeous tonight, dressed to the nines. But that’s not too difficult. To Bucky, Y/N always looks gorgeous. Maybe one day he’ll actually find the guts to tell her the truth, instead of standing here all forlorn and lovesick, as Sam and Steve call it.

“Showtime.” Sam whispers, cutting through his thoughts. Bucky watches as the man enters the room, making a beeline straight to the bar. Y/N notices him too, and makes a point of brushing up against him slightly as she requests another drink. The man looks over her, pointedly staring at her chest and her ass. Bucky’s jaw clenches.

“Let me get that.” The man grins, placing his hand on Y/N’s wrist and reaching out with his card before Y/N can do anything. “Can’t let a pretty girl like you pay for your own drink now, can I?” Bucky suppresses a desire to vomit. Creep.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiles, batting her eyelashes slightly. The sight makes Bucky’s stomach flutter, the same way it usually does when he sees Y/N. Sometimes, Bucky likes to imagine that Y/N’s flirting is for him, and that she feels the same way he does for her. But for real this time.

As Y/N and the man find a table and start chatting, Bucky continues to watch, hating every moment. The way the man leers at her, a sick smirk on his face the entire time, makes Bucky’s stomach churn even more. He knows what assholes like him do, and he hates every part of it.

“Can you cool it with the glare, Buck? I’m not even in the same room as you and I can feel it burning through the wall.” Bucky ignores Sam’s comment and instead works through an action plan. A way to rescue Y/N in case she needs help. As he does so, he keeps a cautious eye on the pair, just in case. As she laughs along with the man, Bucky can pick up on the awkwardness in her laugh. He swears the noise makes his stomach twist. When the man presses a kiss to her cheek and a small flicker of unease crosses Y/N’s face, Bucky swears his heart almost stops.

In a moment, he jumps up, ready to charge in, to peel the man’s arms off of Y/N and drag him away from her. But before he can, Y/N takes control once more, changing the subject. Yet still, Bucky keeps a wary eye on the man. He flexes his metal arm, ensuring he’s ready to jump in and protect Y/N.

Whatever the cost.

Thankfully though, only a few hours later (albeit longer than Bucky would’ve liked), the agent suddenly has to leave, bringing the mission to a halt. And soon, Y/N is back safe and sound in the compound with the others. 

“Well done Y/N.” Steve praises, and Sam nods.

“Yeah. Great job.” Bucky murmurs, his tone causing Y/N to raise a brow.

“Guys, can I speak to Bucky alone for a moment, please?” she asks. Glancing at each other, Steve and Sam nod and leave the room. “So. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” he shrugs. Scoffing, Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“Bucky, there’s no point in lying. I know you.” She’s right, she does know him really well. Sometimes, Bucky swears that Y/N knows him better than anyone else. Even better than Steve. There’s no way he could even try to hide his feelings from her. “And besides, you were staring daggers out the window the whole ride back. Now, tell me what the problem is.”

“I just… when you were with that guy, I was worried about you, okay?!”

“Aww Bucky, you really do care about me!” she grins, giggling like it’s just a joke. But little does she know, Bucky doesn’t see it that way.

“I do care about you! Fuck Y/N, I care about you more than anything in this world, and the thought of that… that sicko being anywhere near you, o-or laying his hands on you makes me feel sick!” He exclaims, the words slipping out without another thought. “I know how good you are at going undercover, but the last thing I want is you getting hurt.” Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh… oh.” As silence falls amongst the pair, Bucky’s heart pounds. Why did it all have to slip out like that? Maybe keeping it in for so long has finally taken its toll. Y/N stares back at him, still silent. Bucky blushes, his cheeks turning scarlet. Now he looks like an idiot. A total lovesick idiot. 

“I’ll, um. I’ll go.” 

“No, wait.” Y/N stops him as he starts to leave, reaching out and touching his arm. “I-I never knew you felt that way about me, Bucky. Thank you.” she smiles, and Bucky nods.

“Y/N, I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” he admits, chuckling slightly. “You’re very special to me, Y/N.”

“And you’re special to me too, Buck. I’m so glad to have someone like you looking out for me.” Before Bucky can even respond, she presses a kiss to his cheek, his stubble lightly grazing against her lips. This almost sends Bucky’s heart into overdrive, and he swears his skin tingles from where she kissed him. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, and I had no idea you felt the same way about me.” she whispers, her words making Bucky’s mouth drop open. “I need to go type out my mission report, but maybe we can grab dinner afterwards? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” Bucky nods. And then she heads down the hallway, waving goodbye. Even after she disappears from sight, Bucky still stares down the hall. He cups his cheek, still feeling it burn from when she kissed him. Still dumbstruck at how Y/N likes him back. A goofy grin overtakes his face. 

Despite how badly tonight started, he’s never been as happy as he is right now.

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[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Happy Kinktober, dears! 🎃👀

I've been wanting to write something with Pirate Captain Alcina again for awhile now and what better time than to kick off our favorite month! 😌 This fic takes place in the same universe as my other Captain Alcina fics and includes my OC Rynn Lancaster as Reader 👀 I do hope some of you will enjoy!

TW: Degradation

Word count: 3,200

The soft creak of weathered wood against leathered boots as you took a step onto the bow of the Bloody Maiden. It was long past the hours that your Captain and current lover usually came to lie next to you in your quarters, and you were more than certain you knew exactly where you’d find her. She had a usual spot - when solemn nights made the Captain’s mind begin to wander further than she’d like, frolicking through past memories of both good and bad. So, just as you'd done many times before, you followed the trail of slickened moonlight up the slightly rotted boards and headed towards the front of the ship. Finding Alcina’s ravened hair shimmering in the dark as if it were a sky of velvet.

Her face looked tired, pensive - though it still shined brighter than any gem within any bounty you could come across. You walked softly so as not to startle her, doing your best to not disrupt her mullings. In all honesty, though, you’d be content just to stand there - with the smell of the ocean breeze upon the wind and her beauty in your eyes - for the rest of the evening.

“You're not as quiet as you think, my dear.”

Her voice was light and playful as she spoke, but you could see the weight of the world in her eyes.

“Pshh.. Whaat? I'm as quiet as a mouse, my dear Captain.” You quipped back, bowing flamboyantly.

She chuckled in a way that made your heart warm over. “Are you now? Is that why I heard you the moment you ascended the stairs?”

You stuck out your tongue at her just slightly and walked over.

“I'd say that has more to do with your innate abilities as a Captain than my lack of skills.”

She caught your smirk and smirked in turn, turning slightly from her position at the hull.

“Mh.. perhaps.”

She gave you a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and turned them back to the ocean ahead, a soft melody upon her lips that was dipped in melancholy. The dark waves always a mirror of what life as a pirate was truly like. The ups and downs - the ebb and flow. Of course there were always good times to be had, but more often than not, a Captain’s life was a solitary life. Especially for someone like Alcina. And while you wished sometimes that she’d spend more time with the crew, you understood her need for boundaries. And you always respected them.

You walked a little closer to her and laid your arms across the wood of the railing, breathing in the fresh night air.

“What's on your mind, Cap’n?” You asked.

The soft touch of your fingers on hers brought a smile to her lips as she looked over at you.

“Have I ever mentioned that you know me entirely too well for my own liking, Rynn Lancaster?” She smirked.

“Nope.” You replied, shaking your head with fervor. “Never.”

She laughed and took your hand in hers, sighing.

“It would be true to say that both nothing and everything is currently on my mind, pet.”

“Ah, one of those nights.”

“Mh.” She hummed in thought, eyes trailing back to the shoreline.

“Would you care for a distraction then?”

Her eyes flickered back to you, looking almost metallic in the shift.

“Depends. What sort?” Alcina inquired.

“Hmmm.. Captain's choice.”

A glint of crimson in the moonlight as a shark-like grin curled across her lips.

“A rather dangerous choice.”

“I can take it.”

“Mmh, indeed you can.”

“I-” You felt your face heat up fiercely as you stammered and let out a breath. The feared pirate Captain only chuckled, her strong arm coming around your hips to pull you closer.

“You are rather cute when you fluster, dear.”

“Rude. I don't fluster, I just momentarily forget how to speak.”

“Mhm.. and that blush upon your cheeks?”

“Merely a side effect from the moonlight.”

“Ah.”

Alcina chuckled again and pulled you a little closer, her warmth quickly enveloping you. It was moments like these that always reminded you just how privileged you were to see this side of her. Alcina Dimitrescu, feared Captain of the Bloody Maiden and renowned Countess of the Seven Seas. There wasn't a pirate alive that hadn't at least heard of her. She was a legend - known for her innate intuition and expert pillaging. As well as her bloodthirst.

But you, you were gifted with a whole different side of her. A softer side. A side that very few had ever had the chance to witness. Save for her daughters, of course. And maybe Sal.

You looked over at her, her dark beauty brought alive by the nestling of stars behind her and the moonlight that shone so brightly. Her breath calm and calculated, causing a soft rise and fall to her .. very well endowed bosom. The crimson shirt that hugged her in the most exquisite ways was buttoned in a most perfect way - leaving very little to the imagination. She was wearing your favorite corset, a fact that made you hum out loud.

“Thoughts wandering, pet?”

“Hm? Me? I.. no. Of course, not. Never.”

Alcina turned again in your direction, her arm still wrapped firmly around your hips and she leaned back against the railing of the ship. The simple trailing of her fingers down her sternum made your face heat up even more.

“Hm.. pity.” She smirked, lips shimmering in the dark.

You swallowed again, this time turning to face her as well.

“So, uh.. about that distraction..?”

Alcina chuckled and shook her head. “Mhm.. just as I thought. Needy.”

“For you? Alwa-”

The pirate’s hand came abruptly around your throat and pulled you towards her - her lips suddenly pressed warmly against yours. A soft moan lost within the kiss as you melted into it. The grip on her neck was both firm and tender with the smallest amount of pressure on your windpipe.

You felt dizzy when she finally let you go, smiling in a way that you were sure was slightly embarrassing.

“Well, that was unfair…”

“Was it?”

You gave her a single nod and leaned in closer, pressing your body into hers. A raised eyebrow in your direction and a look that told you that you were obviously playing with fire.

But you didn't care.

Not in the least.

You could take it, after all.

“Captain's choice, hm?” She smirked.

“Yep. I am, as they say, at your service.” You replied with a wink.

She grabbed your throat again, making you whimper. A simple kiss upon your forehead before she forced you down onto your knees, your back against the railing.

“Very well.”

Alcina rose to her full height before you, casting you in the dark shadow, her large frame fully blocking out the moonlight. Her gaze luminous, playful, flickering with delight as she unsheathed her sword before her fingers came to undo her belt buckle. You swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of your surroundings.

“Ah.. Captain.. should we.. maybe take this back to our quarters?”

Alcina clicked her tongue as she continued to undress.

“Nonsense. The only person fool enough to come looking for me this late at night is you, my dear. Plus..” She replied with a smirk, dropping the last of her undergarments to the floor and rested one of her legs upon the height of the railing next to you - her exquisite folds glistening with want before you.

You licked your lips and let out a shaky breath. The headiness of her musk already floating upon the ocean air.

“I- .. y-yes.. ah.. you make a very good point, Captain. A very good point indeed.”

“Mhm.. now, get to work.”

Alcina’s large hand came to the back of your head as she pulled you into her. Moaning at the first taste you scooted yourself even closer and wrapped your arms around her thighs. Gods, she tasted divine - intoxicating. Like a cold ale after a particularly long haul - you just couldn't get enough. Not of her. Not of the way she tasted. Felt. Enveloped the entirety of your mouth as you drank her in.

She moaned each time you elongated your tongue into her - her back slightly arched, giving you more. The soft caresses through your hair quickly turning to subtle, rough tugs the higher you coaxed her. If your Captain were an instrument, you had learned exactly where to play her. Where to taste her. Where to keep your tongue playing over to an all too forgotten tune.

And you didn't stop when she began to buck her hips into you. Nor when she dug her nails into your scalp. You only licked harder. Sucked mercilessly. Holding her in place just firm enough to keep her exactly where you wanted her.

That was until her pleasure finally peaked and her desire poured warmly into your mouth - over your lips - giving you maybe a minute to drink in the rest of her before she had you by the throat again. She lifted you to your feet - your face slick with her desire. A swift look of her surroundings and the Captain gave you a smirk, hand falling from your throat.

“Turn around.”

“Ahm-”

“Do as I say.”

Shuddering at her firm command you quickly turned around.

“Hands on the railing.”

You placed your hands upon the weathered wood and waited. Patiently. Obediently. Knowing whatever Alcina had in mind would surely be worth it. And when your eyes caught her subtle, swift movement - large hands reaching towards the pile of rope next to her - you swallowed.

“Any objections?” She smirked, loosely holding the strand of woven twine in the moonlight.

“Objections? M-me? Never.” You scoffed, swaying your hips teasingly from side to side.

“Mhm.”

Her stride was one of an experienced hunter - purposeful, dangerous. Wearing nothing but a partially unbuttoned collared shirt over her corset and a sinful smirk as she walked back over to you. Her alabaster skin made a mockery of the silvered moon above. The ship around you slightly rocked and the ocean breeze blew through your gingered hair. With such experienced fingers Alcina had your wrists bound to the railing in a matter of minutes, the rope firm against your flesh.

“Comfortable?”

You smirked, choosing yet again to play with fire.

“The most feared Pirate of the Seven Seas, going out of there to make sure little ol’ me is comfy?”

You caught about a glimmer of crimson before Alcina's hands were on your hips. A swift tug to pull you into position before her fingers came to the hemline of your underwear ( luckily for you, you never slept in pants ).

“Seems it may be time for me to remind you just what that mouth of yours is best used for.”

“Hmm.. my poetry and humorous quips?”

“No.” She practically growled as she ripped the simple fabric from your body, her large frame leaning in - ravened curls tickling the side of your ear. “You moaning my name.”

“F-fuck.” You shuddered. You both loved and hated how easily she could turn you on. With a simple firm tone and a pull at your hips. You were already wet enough to feel the cool night air between your legs, the measure of your arousal prevalent.

“Spread your legs.” She half growled again, making you whimper. “Do it.”

You felt a hand come around your throat from the back and you immediately obeyed, spreading your legs wider for her.

“That's a good whore.”

Her words were sickly sweet, making your body hot all over. It was a deep heat that resonated from the top of your head and landed directly in your core. You cried out in earnest when you felt her palm make contact with your skin, striking your ass with a sting. Followed by a desperate moan falling from your lips and a gasp as she grabbed your hips again.

“Please…” You whimpered.

“Please, what?”

It was clear by the smug look on Alcina's face that she was enjoying this. You, needy. Already desperate and pleading for her.

“Please, fuck me. Fuck.”

The pirate snorted, fingers gently tracing the outskirts of your core. “With that mouth?”

“You can do anything you want with this mouth, just fuck me.”

You were about the smirk in her direction when another strike landed across your backside, bringing an immediate heat to your cheeks. You whimpered, quite pathetically, and begged again.

“Please.”

With her other hand still firm around your throat you felt her enter you - one finger at first and then another, slowly stretching you out. Your hands bound in such a way that it left you completely at her mercy - entirely helpless.

Exactly how she wanted you.

“M-more. Please.”

She slid her fingers from your core and then drove them back in again, forcing you to bite your lip.

“Patience.”

The pirate paid no mind to your needy pleas, or how you squirmed against her. Her fingers both filling you and leaving you wanting more with each thrust. With each curl of her fingers there was only one thing you wanted. Needed.

“More.” You tried again.

Though, even as she picked up her speed it still wasn't enough. You feared it would never be enough. You yearned to be completely filled by her in every way. How you wished in that moment to be back in your quarters, with your chest of toys nearby and at your disposal. You whimpered as she continued to tease you. Her slow and languid thrusts only making you all the more needy, while your core ached for more.

“Please.” You begged again without shame, forcing your hips back into her.

“Impatient wench.” She hissed, the hand around your throat growing tighter. You swallowed against her palm and whimpered.

“Please, Mistress.”

You felt her fingers flinch inside of you before they slid out. A single second of aching emptiness before she rammed them back into you, finally adding another. The stretch was exquisite, delicious. A perfect mesh of pleasure and pain that sent an all encompassing heat across your body. Fuck, you felt so good. So full. Your core throbbing around the width of her.

“Ah- .. th-thank you, Mistress.”

She growled at the term, curling her fingers deep inside you once again. Your entire self was in her grasp. Wrists bound, hand around your neck. Her large frame caging you in as she held you in place. Each thrust followed immediately by another. Slow and deep. Fast and hard. Shifting each time she felt your pleasure start to peak, with your moans growing louder and a tremble across your legs. The cool ocean air blew against your fevered flesh, making you shiver all the same.

“Please. Let me cu-”

“You'll come when I say so, pet.”

She placed a tender kiss to the back of your neck and slowed her pace even more, her fingers curling deep within you. Your legs began to shake with need, each thrust matched with an equally needy whimper. You were soaked - dripping - your arousal coating her fingers and the inside of your inner thighs. You may have pleaded again, or it may have just been another whimper, your mind was too fogged over to tell. You did your best to slam your hips back into her and this time she didn't stop you. Instead her fingers came to tighten around your neck again as she abruptly picked up her speed.

“F-fuck.”

Your pleasure swiftly built, heating up your whole body. A prickling heat that crept across you like the mist upon an open sea. It was unhindered - unbearable, even - with your hips jerking and bucking back into her.

“F-fuck.. please. Please let me come.” You whined, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes.

Alcina chuckled, pulling your neck back just far enough to make eye contact with you.

“Come, then. Now.”

With that, she drove her fingers into you with unrelenting speed and you screamed out right. A violent shake across your body as it immediately, and without question, obeyed. The world around you blacked out by pleasure, replacing the Bloody Maiden with fireworks and the feeling of absolute bliss. You felt every part of you convulse as your orgasm ripped through you, body still held in place by Alcina's strong grip. Your breath quickened against the palm of her hand, flesh damp against her skin. Subtle shudders meeting each pump of her fingers as you rode out your high.

For a moment you couldn't move. Not even when she slowly removed her fingers from your core and brought them to your lips.

“Clean them.”

And you did, eagerly - even if half conscious with your legs trembling. Your tongue swirled around her fingers at your taste. And Alcina hummed, content, once you’d finished and placed a soft kiss to your temple before freeing your wrists from the railing.

“Think you can you walk?” She asked, looking over your wrists for any signs of of rope burns. And even with the smug tone to her voice, you knew she was genuinely asking.

“Nope. Pretty sure.. I'll never walk again. You’ll just have to.. carry me from here on out.” You joked between breaths, making the pirate chuckle.

*Mmh.. we’ll see. Take a moment and rest before trying.”

Alcina left you to breathe while she dressed. Her fair skin, dampened with sweat, luminous in the bright moonlight - the moon now high, stood directly above you. If you'd had a little more mental clarity, you'd have opened your mouth and told her how devastatingly beautiful she was, but the best you could do was hold yourself up and wait for your legs to stop shaking.

Which, eventually, they did.

“Well? Think you can make it?”

You chuckled as you straightened your back, finally rising to your full height. Your nightshirt was more than a bit disheveled and your underwear now a mere memory as it lay tattered on the floor.

“Hm. Think so. Probably.”

You took a step and immediately wobbled, making Alcina snort.

“Hardly, pet. Remain still.”

You waited where you stood, with a warm blush across your cheeks that only deepened when your Captain took you into her arms and lifted you with ease.

“Heh.. thanks.”

A tiny smile upon her lips as she looked down at you.

“It is the least I can do, no? Consider I'm the one who left you in such a state.”

“I mean.. true.. but still, thank you.”

You looked up at her a bit sheepishly and she hummed, holding you a little closer.

“Did it help?” You asked, drowsy.

“What, dear?”

“The.. distraction..”

She laughed warmly. “Mh.. very much. Now rest.”

You nodded and curled into her bosom. Her warmth and steady breathing was all you needed to feel safe in the world. As your eyes grew heavier with each step, your mind began to fog again. Though, before it fully drifted off you couldn't help but have one final thought: which of the crew would be the first to find your discarded underwear left in pieces on the deck.

[fuzzymakercloudduck]

Paige Bueckers x reader

Fluff! Comfort!

I’m sad, wrote this out of the fact I needed it

This is so self indulgent btw

Dusk till Dawn

I have come very far in my career for a twenty two year old, I knew that, but there is a twinkling feeling that chases me for so long, a feeling of failure as if I will never be good enough, it’s exhausting having to fight your brain in a endless battle day to day.

Through the years it got easier, I have found friends that were there for me, my family, my job which I love, and then Paige who has become my sunlight. But sometimes the things I went through, the mental stress I was once caged in comes backs crumbling the steps I took so far.

And it was exactly what was happening right now, an overwhelming takeover of anxiety, I have been overworking myself lately, the fear that I will be a failure knocking down my walls, trying to drive properly as tears blur my vision was not a easy task when I literally couldn’t even breath.

For some miracle I get to the building safely, but I just couldn’t push myself to even get my belt off, I sit in the car and just fall apart, remembering everything, the times in my teenage years I wished I were gone for good, and I know it wasn’t right but I got myself wondering if I done enough to deserve to have lived, if I suffered enough to deserve to have happiness, to deserve Paige, to deserve anything good that I got.

I dry my tears and try to look put together as I bring myself up to Paige’s dorm, hoping the other girls weren’t there so they wouldn’t see me in this state, I just needed to be in my girlfriends arms.

Thankfully once I open the door, the living room was empty so I was able to just go straight to Paige’s room.

Once I standing in front of her door I take a deep breath before knocking.

“Baby, it’s me” I noticed my voice being raspy because of the meltdown I had so I try to cough discreetly as I hear Paige opening the door.

“What happened?” Her face is of immediate concern as she look my face up and down, I was stupid to think I could just pretend everything was fine, at least to the one who knew me the most, and that realization instantly made me have new found tears streaming down my face as I let out a sob, the feeling of stupidity filled my whole body as I hide my face in my hands, right away I felt Paige’s arms around me pulling me in as she closes the door behind my back, her smell sinking me in.

“shh, it’s okay, I’m right here” I feel her guiding me to her bed as she sit us both down, her words made me melt into her embrace then my tears came for real, it felt like hours of simply crying and sobbing as Paige’s hand went up and down my back soothing me down, she kept silence, knowing me well enough to know I need to formulate my feelings before anything else.

“I’m right here for you baby, d’ya wanna talk about it?” her voice was low as she kissed the side of my head. I take a deep breath as I hold tight onto her before saying anything.

“I just felt so overwhelmed lately, with work and within myself really” I let out a sob before continuing, “it makes me so anxious that those feelings I felt when I was in the deepest stage of my depression will just come knocking down everything I’ve done, all the way I crossed, I’m just scared” I finish and feel her arms falling from around me to now her hands holding mine as she look in my eyes.

“You have no idea of how strong you are, and I understand is so scary to know you ever felt that way, but the difference is that you were dealing with all that all by yourself, you don’t have to do it anymore, whenever you feel like you lost just remember I am right here with you, as well as so other people that love you, you’re not alone anymore, and you’ve come so more far than you even realize.” Paige whips the tears that spill out of my eyes as second nature and then pull me into her chest laying both of us down, suddenly all the unsafely mindset evaporate, being drowned out by the comfort of the person that loves me.

“And I need you to promise me that you will always talk with me when you feel like this, ok?” She look in my eyes as she say this, Paige was one of the only people that I shared my past history with mental health medicine and the darkest side of my depression. “Doesn’t matter where or when, the moment you need it I am right here, you do not need to be strong alone, I love you”

“I love you Paige” my eyes were so heavy because of the tears,I knew this would be a bigger conversation in the morning but for now I really needed to drift in sleep in her arms, my safe space, my home. “Thank you for just being you” she held my tightly as she grabbed the blankets to throw over us once she realized my eyes closed.

“I’m here from dusk till dawn” I feel a kiss pressed to my forehead right before I stumble in sleep.

*NOT PROOFREAD, ALSO ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO DO NOT COME FOR ME

[justarandompersononthehellsite]

So... @muffinlance wrote a really awesome story. I read a post from a point in time, though I truly do not remember when since it seems like I've been working on this project forever, saying that she gives blanket permission for people to print and bind the story into a book (I think there was an also addendum saying that they do not give permission to be sold, since selling fic is illegal). This fic has had total control over my whole brain since it was sent to me (@creatorofthemind I believe it was you, so thank you forever for tuning me into it) back during the days of like chapter six or seven.

So here I am now, sharing this amazing journey of my first ever bookbinding adventure. Further reading below.

So to give you an idea of what's going on, this is a fanfiction about Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) (animated show version, the LA show did not exist yet and we do not speak of the movie) being adopted by Hakoda, Father of Katara and Zuko. (This might have also been what kicked off the Give Zuko A Parent craze, but don't fact check me.)

Overall, the characters from the show stick very well to the cannon versions, but where MuffinLance really shines is in the rich backstories and fleshed out feeling of all the non cannon elements. Especially the background characters. I would argue that the writing in this peice of fanwork could easily rival the cannon show at many points of comparison.

Now that you have context, we can get into the actual process.

To start, I used this guide to figure out where to even begin, and fount the included resource list to also be quite helpful. I cannot for the LIFE OF ME figure out where I found the template I used for the front matter and such, but it must be somewhere and I will link to it when I inevitably come across it again.

Then I began to typeset. This step took... a long time. I worked in chunks from about September of 2022 to late March of 2024. I would get a big section done, sometimes even the entire thing, but then find I hated the way I had done it and give up for months at a time. Such is the life of ADHD and flitting interest in projects I suppose.

And then finally, step one was done, and I was left with pages on a word document that look like this. (And do please let me know if you want the link to the document. It was so much work, and I would love to not be the only one to use it.)

Next step was printing out this beast. Ended up being about eight pages of front matter, and about 630 pages of body text.

That I printed wrong.

Twice.

Before finally getting it right. And then not getting a picture of it, because I finished at 4 am and had work at 7, and am also an idiot.

Then I simply stitched along, putting everything together into a beautiful text block.

And came up with a design for the cover.

Yes the glue did end up lumpy. Ignore it.

Yes I did have to sketch out the design onto a scraped page several times before I figured out what I was doing. Ignore that too.

The cover design does wrap around the entire cover. No I did not get a picture before I glued the thing down. See again: I'm an idiot. And just... massively impatient.

Finally, we get to the stage of gluing. Behold, my bookpress.

Of course, topped with Madam MuffinLances own actual professional-people book, Fox's Tounge and Kirin's Bone. It is Excelent. Here is the LINK so you can go and support this amazing author with the real-monies as well as the internet-kudos.

Then, once everything is glued together, one must give the book its "gilt" edges.

[kaleldobrev]

You Make Me Happy

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Fem!Reader

Summary: With you doing what he believes to be an incredibly reckless thing on a hunt, Dean finally realizes how much you really mean to him

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Cursing (2x), Mutual Pining, Slightly angry Dean

Authors Note: Dean just really loves Y/N and wants them to be safe | This came out longer than I expected it to be | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“Dean, I really, really am sorry okay? I don’t know what else you want me to say. I saw a chance and I took it.” Your heart was racing to the point that you wouldn’t have been surprised if it just busted out of your chest. You dropped your duffel bag with a quiet thud at your feet.

Dean turned to you, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor of the Bunker; the sound of the drop slightly echoing unlike yours. When he looked at you, his face was hard, and his jaw was clenched. Although he had the most beautiful green eyes that you have ever seen, despite everything that he has gone through, there was always some kind of light behind them. But in this moment, there was no light behind them – they were dark, ice cold, and his stare was like a sharp knife piercing into your skin. “Sorry? That’s it?” His voice was harsh and sounded just as cold as his stare.

You had seen him mad plenty of times before, this life would do that to you, but this was the first time that you had ever seen him mad at you. Him being mad at you was something that you’d hoped that you never have to experience; because the last thing you wanted was to have Dean Winchester upset with you. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time Sweetheart,” he continued. “You did something reckless and almost got yourself killed.”

“Oh, like you’ve never done anything reckless in your life Dean.” The minute you said those words out loud, you knew in your gut that you were in trouble. Dean stepped closer to you, not breaking the cold stare that he had on you. The tension in the room was so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

“I may be reckless, but I’m not stupid. What you did…that…that was stupid.” What you had done, you didn’t think it was reckless or stupid; you thought that it was pretty smart considering the circumstances.

The two of you had just gotten back from clearing a vamp’s nest a state over, and it was considered to be a relatively small one – only about three in the nest compared to the usual five plus. With Sam out of commission for the moment – who knew the common flu could make someone like Sam be bed ridden for days – you offered to go along with Dean. At first, Dean didn’t want you to come along because you really weren’t that experienced with vampires. You had taken one out a few years ago, but that was all there was – only one vamp one time; and this was going to be at least three, maybe more. You had reassured Dean that you were not a child and have been hunting for over a decade; something that he sometimes forgets from time to time. While in the warehouse where they were stationed, Dean got cornered by one of the vamps who had knocked his machete from his hand. You were on the top floor and there was a long chain next to you. You eyed the chain and grabbed onto it, your machete in the other hand and swung over and chopped the vamps head off, thus saving Dean. When you touched down, you thought how cool it was, but Dean on the other hand thought it was reckless of you to do something like that. The whole car ride back to the Bunker there were no words exchanged between the two of you unlike the usual banter you had; it was just the sounds of AC/DC.

“Dean, if I didn’t do my little swing and a hit trick back there with that vamp, you would have been dead.” He was closer to you now and all you could do was start backing up; Dean was starting to scare you a bit.

“And if that chain didn’t hold you? Newsflash, you would have been dead too Sweetheart.” There was so much anger building up inside of him. A part of him was grateful for what you did, another part was impressed that you were able to pull off something like that, but the strongest part of him was angry that you risked your life like that, not fully knowing if your little plan was going to work or not. “I’m fucking awesome! Did you see that?” You said to him, the biggest smile plastered on your face. Truthfully, when he saw you do that, he had wanted to kiss you in that moment and tell you how awesome it really looked; how superhero like it looked. But all that came out was, “What the fuck was that?” The second he said those words, your once huge smile dropped.

“I’m gonna go to my room.” You made your way around Dean. “You…you should go shower…cool off.” You suggested.

It had been a few hours since you and Dean had that weird confrontation. Dean had taken a shower like you had suggested he do in order to cool off and was now sitting on the floor of his bedroom with a beer in one hand looking through photos of the two of you. As he drank, he stopped on a particular picture; it happened to be one of his favorites and he honestly had no idea why. The two of you weren’t doing anything particularly special; it was just some random picture that Jack had taken of the two of you about a few months back. For Jack’s birthday this year, you had bought them a polaroid camera because you had wanted to teach Jack about making memories. “Sometimes humans like to take pictures when they want to remember a moment, or a particular person forever.” You had told them. The photo that Jack had taken of the two of you were of you guys sitting next to each other in the War Room, each of you with an open book in front of you on the table with Dean looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. For some reason, this was the moment that Jack had wanted to capture, and Dean had no idea why so he had asked Jack. “You looked happy. It’s like what Y/N said. Humans take pictures when they want to remember a moment or person forever. This moment was happy, and I want us to remember that.” Is how Jack responded to the question.

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the picture. “I really do look happy.” He said aloud to himself. He took a sip of his beer and moved onto the next picture. This one he knew was your favorite. In this picture of the two of you that Jack had taken, you were sitting in front of Baby. Dean was in the driver’s seat like normal with his hands on the steering wheel, while you were in the passenger seat giving him the biggest smile with one of your hands resting on his thigh. Dean had remembered that day clearly – not fully knowing why – but you and him were going to run errands in town. It was supposed to be just the two of you, and for some reason Dean was excited that it was just going to be the two of you. But you had asked Jack if they wanted to come along so they could get more experience being around people. Jack of course said yes and insisted that they bring their polaroid camera. At some point during the drive to town, your hand had found his thigh and you had given it a small pat. Dean asked Jack a few days later after seeing the picture and asked why Jack had taken it. “Y/N looked really happy. I like seeing her happy; like how I like seeing you, Cas, and Sam happy.”

“You looked happy…Y/N looked really happy.” Jack’s words echoed in Dean’s mind. “You really do look happy Sweetheart. God knows why.” Dean commented placing the photo back into the small wooden box he kept underneath his bed. “Humans take pictures when they want to remember a moment or person forever.” Yet another sentence of Jack’s that echoed in the back of his mind. These sentences, looking at these pictures of the two of you, getting unnecessarily angry after the hunt, looking forward to spending alone time with you – it was all starting to click into place for him. These pictures of the two of you and the memories that he had of you were the only things that he would have left to remember you by if you had died on this hunt. He would have lost someone that truly made him happy, and that scared him; the thought of losing you.

You were lying in bed watching TV, still slightly wet from the shower you had just taken. You were under the blankets and wearing one of Dean’s faded Motörhead t-shirts that he had given you because it no longer fit him. He was originally going to throw it out, but you had convinced him to give it to you because, “It still has some life left in it.” In which he replied, “Knock yourself out Sweetheart.”

There was a light knocking at your door. “Who is it?” You asked.

“It’s me.” Dean replied. Dean was the last person you wanted to talk to right now, still slightly upset about the way he had talked to you a few hours earlier.

“Who’s me?” You asked, full well knowing that it was Dean – you recognized his voice, and his footsteps from a mile away. “I don’t know who me is.”

You heard Dean sigh from the other side of the door. “Dean.”

“Come in.” You said shutting off your TV; you had a feeling that he had wanted to talk.

Dean opened your door slowly. “Can we…Can we talk?” He stepped into your room and shut the door behind him.

“Are you going to get mad at me again?” Your question made him sigh.

“No. I’m…I came to apologize. You…you didn’t do anything wrong.” You raised an eyebrow at his weird attempt at an apology.

“You said I was reckless, that what I did was stupid.” You were confused. He was so angry just several hours earlier, not taking your apology but here he was attempting to apologize to you.

“Honestly…the way you swung on that chain and chopped his head off, it was…it was awesome.” He walked toward your bed and sat down on the edge of it. “I know you were only trying to save me. And…you did. Because, truthfully, I’d be as dead as a doornail if it weren’t for your quick thinking back there.”

“So, you’re not…mad?” You questioned.

“No, not anymore. I uh, I shouldn’t have gotten as mad as I did, and truthfully, I shouldn’t have gotten mad at all. But I realized why I was so angry before. I wasn’t angry at you. I was…” He looked you in the eyes; his eyes were no longer full of that darkness and coldness that was there a few hours earlier. “I was mad because I didn’t like the possibility of losing you.” To some, this admission may have seemed like it came out of nowhere, but not for you. For some time you knew how the older Winchester brother had felt about you; but you weren’t completely sure if it was in a platonic or romantic way. But the way he had said it, you knew that the feeling wasn’t platonic – it was romantic in nature.

“Dean.” You inched yourself toward him and placed a hand on his thigh. “You’re not going to lose me, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep Y/N.” He was afraid, and you could hear his voice was slightly breaking. “I’ve lost too many people that promised me that they were going to come back that didn’t.” You knew about some of the people that he was referring to, but not all of them. Some of the people that he had just hinted at were some of the same ones that you had lost.

“Okay.” Was all you could say at first, knowing that Dean was right. There was no way you could in fact keep that promise; especially being in this life. “But I know…I know there’s one promise that I can keep.” You stated. You removed yourself from underneath the blankets and adjusted yourself to sitting on your knees, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“What’s that Sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“I can promise you that, as long as I live, I’ll always be in your corner no matter what. As a friend, family…” you were unsure if you should say the next couple of words but decided to say them, probably against your better judgement. “Romantic partner…I’ll be there, even if you think I’m not, I will be.”

“Romantic partner uh?” He asked amused, placing his hands on your hips. If someone walked in right now, they would have never guessed that you and Dean had an argument only hours earlier, and just had a somewhat emotional conversation not even a minute ago. “You make it sound so…business like.” A strand of hair fell in front of your face just then, but before you could do anything about it, Dean was already on top of it, tucking the strand behind your ear. Without any kind of hesitation, he leaned in, and so did you; your lips capturing each other’s.

The kiss went on longer than either of you probably expected; and it was the type of kiss that you weirdly weren’t expecting from someone like Dean. It wasn’t rough or lustful; it was gentle and slightly needy. You were the one that broke the kiss between the two of you – something that you thought wouldn’t happen. You looked at him for a moment, slightly brushing his cheek with your thumb. “Does this make us romantic partners now?” You half joked.

“You tell me Sweetheart. It can be anything you want it to be.” He responded.

“Romantic business partners it is.” You stated, leaning in again to kiss him. He was happy for you to of said yes, even if it was in your own weird way.