#the midnight merchant

[rinavatrix]

Happy Birthday Annie 🌟🧸

[supercomputer-lizard]

Which one would you want to be the protagonist or antagonist of? (Forgot about side characters, but they are also included)

pick one of these things by William Shakespeare

[midnightmoodlet-art]

So I tried DnD for the first time, so meet my baby human warlock Talia 💖💖💖

I've been rotting for the past three days over her send help

[baekuras]

Every time I pass by the timewriter starting the mine section I have to take a second and just look at how many cigarettes are around, mostly wondering if all of them are from Luis waiting around for Leon to get to him

[vividxpages]

༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚. "the craving"༉‧₊˚🤍❀༉‧₊˚. PART 1

Read Part 2 here 🤍

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 6300

summary: after a long day of scouting together, your betrothed Jacaerys and you are forced to seek shelter at an inn when a storm is raging outside. The only "problem"; there is only one, tiny bed for the two of you.

warnings: sexual tension, they're both virgins, but the Targaryen ancestors wrote a kamasutra for future generations and Jace has read it ;) , only one bed trope, cuddling/spooning, sexual content (making out, vaginal fingering, a little bit of dirty talk from Jace), aftercare

a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this story and it's my longest one for Jace so far, hope you like it! <3 I also have some ideas for a potential part 2 👀....

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

It was a rare occurrence for you, being chosen by the Queen to scout for the day, patrolling the sky and the lands underneath it from a safe distance. 

You were a princess of Dragonstone, but you were also a dragonrider, even if you were still young and an honor like this filled you with undeniable pride.

It was an even rarer occurrence that she allowed Jacaerys to join you.

Your recent betrothal to the prince had been a blessing, making your strong bond of friendship weave itself only tighter, but it also had brought up feelings you'd thought you simply could've brushed aside before.

Jace had gotten more...protective of you, more tender and you could not help but feel yourself being drawn to him too, longing for the mornings spent together at breakfast after saying goodnight to each other on your doorstep the night before.

Of course, there were rules, things to do when courting and things to avoid, such as sharing a room before marriage and the things that could happen in said room…

But you were never the one to follow rules lightly and weren't you going to be married anyways? All you needed was a little push until you'd surrender your heart and your body to Jacaerys...

And somehow, you had a feeling you weren't alone with these forbidden desires.

Today had been mostly spent in the sky, flying together as if you had never done something else. You were a unit, always knowing where the other was and what they did and it seemed like your dragons were delighted as well by the recent development of your planned union. 

You couldn't help but laugh with the wind when they playfully snapped at each other, both making little besotted growls from time to time, like Jace and you were interrupting a date.

Everything would've been alright if the storm hadn't moved into your direction.

It was getting darker and darker and both of you couldn't make your dragons move any faster, since they were young just as you and Jace were. Situations like this couldn't exactly be trained beforehand.

When the rain hit you, your mood dropped instantly.

"It's getting late!" You heard Jacaerys' familiar voice calling over to you through the wind and rain. "The weather isn't going to get any better and we are too far away from Dragonstone to make it back before midnight. We have to find a place to spend the night, it's no use."

You knew he could see the frustration on your face, worrying what your people back in the safety of Dragonstone's walls would think if the future of a more hopeful realm did not return as punctually as expected.

"She's going to be worried out of your mind for you." You called back, but the rain in front of you was blurring your vision and you kept pushing your hair out of your face.

Vermax let out a displeased growl as thunder rolled through the clouds. Jace squinted his eyes to make you out next to him, the storm getting stronger and stronger by the minute. "I'm not going to let us get struck by lightning! There's a merchant route right under us, if I remember it right. We land, now."

You reluctantly tugged the reigns of your dragon tighter around your fists and steered her down, following Jace and Vermax through the clouds as they descended. You couldn't argue with him, but a stop in an unknown region was risky. Even if you two were in the company of your dragons.

By the time you had landed in a clearing of the forest Jace had spotted from up above, your clothes were dripping wet on the ground.

Climbing down your dragon's back, you couldn't help but snort as Vermax immediately seeked shelter underneath the massive pine trees from the weather, his rider fondly shaking his head at his companion. 

As you approached, Jace sighed and squinted up into the sky above you. "I know you dislike this, as I do. But I'm not taking a risk. It's better to wait the night instead of getting attacked in a thunderstorm, don't you agree?"

"Yes…" You looked at him, still a little conflicted. "But we can only hope our people at Dragonstone agree with you as well."

Jace smiled at you, raising both his hands in defense. Like this, eyes bright and wet hair curling around his already beautiful face, he was a vision, making you permanently weak in the knees. "They will agree, because I am protecting the princess, my betrothed, as you are protecting yours."

Yours.

You involuntarily shuddered, the promise of being married to him one day never tiring of sending lightning through you.

While you understood the Queen's choice to wait with marrying you because of the war, you were growing tired of being denied what you craved so badly; not the ring on your finger - a beautiful thing you knew Jace had already commissioned to being forged, one of Vermax' scales sitting in its silver center - but the boy you were dreaming about at night, visiting you in the quietness of Dragonstone, sliding underneath your warm covers to-

"Everything alright?" Jace had stepped to your side, one hand on your shoulder. 

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "We should stop and rest at the first place we can find."

The traveler's road was empty and no one noticed the two of you stepping out of the forest and making your way over to the first building you saw, a small inn with its windows alight from the inside.

You shivered at the thought of a warm fire and wrinkled your nose at your clammy leathers. On top of it, your belly growled and Jacaerys and you shared a look.

A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry, I'll find you something to eat even if I have to hunt it myself tonight."

You blushed, his words always managing to touch something deep within you.

Jace and you entered the inn, immediately enveloped by its delicious warmth and sociability. As Prince and Princess, you were not used to a civility like this and for a moment, you wondered what it'd be like to live like this, leading a simple life with Jace where no one would know you and you could do whatever you pleased. What a dangerous thought this was...

Just before you and him reached the small reception counter of the inn, Jace placed one of his gloved hands on your lower back, a secure and telling gesture that made your skin underneath the riding leathers burn pleasantly.

"Good evening." He spoke confidently. "My wife and I are looking for a place to stay for the night. The storm has caught us off guard on the road."

The innkeeper looked at you and although you knew he didn't want to hear it, you silently said a prayer of gratitude for Jace's beautiful dark hair and eyes. If he'd have silver hair, all could be lost, depending on the opinion of the inn's staff on this ongoing war.

You tugged your cloak tighter around you, hiding the riding leathers on your body, and looked back calmly. You forced your bottom lip to wobble as if you only now remembered the cold haunting your bones. How fast could you make your way back to the forest and your dragons before the whole house was up on their feet for two Targaryens in its midst?

"It caught us off guard alright as well, good sir." The innkeeper said goodnaturedly after a moment and you sighed on the inside. "The taproom is bursting at the seams tonight. I can only offer a single room, but I'm sure it's no problem for two young lovebirds like you. Dinner will be served for you, too, if you require it."

Jace swallowed thickly, not meeting your gaze at the prospect of a tiny room for the two of you. 

So far, your betrothal had consisted of courting each other quietly and sweetly, the long promised wedding pushed back again and again, much to your frustration. To share a room with Jace before you were married - it sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't say it was a bad one.

"We require it. And thank you for the room. We will pay in advance, of course." Jace produced a small sack of coins from his cloak and you stepped aside and peeked into the full taproom, trying to calm your racing heart.

When he was done, Jacaerys stepped up to you and smiled encouragingly, although you could see through him instantly and saw the same nervousness possessing you. This was no place for you two and yet here you were.

"Dinner, my lady?" Jace asked under his breath and with a snort, you let yourself be led into the taproom, carefully avoiding any curious eyes on you as you found a quiet corner in the far back where hopefully no one would disturb you or have questions. 

Quickly, two plates with bread, cheese and tomatoes were brought to your table and Jacaerys and you began to eat, tense in your wariness for your surroundings but comfortable in each other's presence. 

He politely declined the waitress's offer of beer, but made her bring you a pitcher of clear water, the day spent underneath the sun having dried out your bodies like nothing else.

After a while - you were still munching on your bread and Jace looked about to be finished - he took a few of his tomatoes and placed them on your plate, a silent encouragement.

"Thank you." You said quietly and ate them too while he kept watch, over you and the room behind you. But in all the hustle going on in there, no one had time or interest for a young couple on the road and soon, your plates were empty and you retreated upstairs and down the narrow corridor.

The last door was yours.

Your eyes widened shortly as you took in your room for the night. There was a window where rain splattered against the glass, a small table with a chair and a bed, although it could barely be called that if you thought of your enormous bed at Dragonstone.

Beside you, you could feel Jace pausing as he locked the door, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the tiny bed in the corner of the room. If only one of you could fit, it'd be a miracle and the floor was in no condition to be slept on.

You took off your cloak and threw it over the chair, opening your mouth to speak just as Jace did.

"I'm taking the floor." He declared and you wanted to roll your eyes and also kiss him for his selflessness.

"You will not sleep on this floor, Jace." You argued and as you wrung out your damp hair, the last droplets of water fell onto the boards, blooming in the dust covering them. 

Jace stayed silent for a moment, wrapping a cloth from within his cloak around the doorknob and tying a tight knot, so you wouldn't be disturbed by any unpleasant visitors tonight.

"Please don't be ridiculous now." You tried again, softer this time. "You had a long flight today, too. We slept side by side when we were kids sometimes, remember? We'd fall asleep in the gardens of King's Landing while we watched the clouds, dreaming of riding our dragons someday."

"But we are not kids anymore." Jacaerys said quietly.

No, you weren't. 

And as you looked at him, reaching behind himself to unclasp his cloak, his dark curls still framing his serious face, you knew there was not an ounce of childlike innocence in you when it came to him.

"And I-" He interrupted himself as his cloak joined yours on the chair and you did not step back, only shuffling closer to rest your hand on his nape. 

What had gotten into you? This boldness, it was dangerous and misplaced and- very much exciting.

Jace slowly looked at you, his dark eyes like burning embers, bringing the heat to your cheek you so desperately needed.

"I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you, princess." He confessed hoarsely and for a moment you thought the wooden floor underneath you had turned into water and you were trying to dance on top of it, unsteady.

You exhaled shakingly, tongue tied in your shock at his confession, but a burning heat swirling pleased in your stomach. 

After a moment, he forced himself to tear himself away from you and cleared his throat. "I mean this in the most chivalrous manner, but I think we should take off our leathers if we don't want to be sick in two days."

You agreed and the two of you turned away from each other, the spell broken.

You faced the wall by the bed as you reached behind yourself, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your uniform. Whoever had invented dragonrider clothes had not intended them to be taken off without the help of half a dozen maids.

Your movements were clumsy and unpracticed, used to getting attended to by your maids for these kinds of things, preferably followed by a hot bath after a long flight.

But now, you were helpless and frustration grew quickly in you until you tilted your head back and let out a tired sigh.

"Jace?" You spoke over your shoulder and heard shuffling. 

"Yes?" 

"I...I can't take them off myself." You admitted, risking a look behind you to see his leather uniform draped over the table, only thin linen pants and a matching top remaining on him. You had never seen him like this, never could've imagined what was laying underneath his princely attires. He looked...innocent, like a boy with big eyes as he watched you. Biting your lip, you added: "Could you help me, at least with my laces?"

"Of course." He breathed and stepped closer as you turned around again, holding yourself completely still as you felt his warmth radiating against your back.

Suddenly, his hand was in your hair, brushing in awe over the wavy strands. "Can I…"

"Yes." You breathed, your nerves fluttering. "Please."

You shuddered as he carefully brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your tightly laced back to him.

Then, with surprisingly skillful fingers, he began to swiftly unlace you, his hands dancing over your spine and making their way down your back.

You were sure neither of you was breathing, your mind growing a bit foggy as you let him attend you like this, the task of a maid replaced by the care of your betrothed.

"All done." He whispered after a while and you were snapped out of your dreamy thoughts. You could already breathe more lightly as the riding leather dangled down on your sides, the front only held up now by your hands on your chest.

"Thank you." You whispered back. What would happen if you turned around now and faced him? Were you too far gone already or would you be able to remember yourself before it was too late?

"I'll light some candles and I...I won't look." Jace said flustered and turned away again, giving you as much privacy as he could as he busied himself with the unlit candles by the table.

Quickly, you slid out of the rest of your uniform until only the thin dress you wore underneath remained. With only these undergarments on you, you almost tripped as you slipped under the covers of the bed and pulled them all up to your chin.

The cold rushed back into you tenfold and you pressed your lips together to keep your teeth from clattering. 

Silently, you watched as Jace lit the last candle and checked the doorknob for one last time to make sure you were safe for the night.

When there was nothing to be done about the state of the room anymore, he met your gaze and asked one more time: "Are you sure?"

I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you…

You nodded, shuffling to the wall as far as you could. There was barely space left for another person, even like this. "Yes. We both need rest."

It seemed like your shivering only intensified as you felt his weight dip on the mattress, joining you as carefully as he could without bumping his knee into your side.

When he was settled, on his slim back while you laid on your side, facing away from him to hide your burning face, he drew the blanket over the two of you, trapping you in for a tight fit and combined warmth, hopefully.

The silence in the room was thick, loaded by something you could not name yet. 

"Try to sleep." Jace whispered to you in the darkness. "Tomorrow, at sunrise, we'll take flight."

You tried your best, you really did. 

But there was no use, not when he was laying so close to you. You were too aware of him, too overstimulated by the mere thought of his body so close to yours, his body heat radiating off of him while you still missed your own.

You were sure the whole mattress was shaking with your quivering, your lips blue and limbs clammy from the cold that had soaked into you on dragonback. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed for a slumber that wouldn't come. 

Jacaerys couldn't bear it anymore.

Seeing you, feeling you shiver so pitifully, he had to put an end to it. It was what a good husband would do.

"Princess…" He whispered into the darkness and you tensed. "You're freezing. If you'd let me...I want to help."

"Help?" You echoed, looking over your shoulder. Like this, you could only make out his eyes in the dark, his silhouette tempting and comforting at once.

Jace swallowed thickly, shuffling until he laid on his side and could support his head with his hand. "If we'd be...closer, I could warm you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, his boldness surprising both you and himself. As scandalous as it was, you already felt yourself drawn to him, your cold bones screaming yes, yes, yes.

"If I won't inconvenience you." You murmured shyly. "I'm shaking like a leaf."

"I'll do my best to change that." Jace promised dutifully, darkly, and shuffled even closer.

Now, you were sure your heart was going to give out. 

Underneath the blanket you shared, Jace pulled you to him, his arm sneaking around your waist as your back met his chest.

You sighed, a small sound of relief as the warmth of him enveloped you and you could feel it also leaving his chest, as if you were two pieces melting together into one.

It was a lover's embrace, there was no doubt about it, but the line between you had already been blurred tonight, ever since he had called you his wife downstairs.

It should've surprised you more, how well your bodies fitted together, how natural the curve of your spine found its place against his lean torso. With his arm securely around you, making sure you'd stay connected, you were not sure if you could not breathe anymore or were finally able to.

"Is this good?" He asked you quietly after some time, your heads now sharing a pillow, a space, an embrace.

No. You needed more.

"Yeah...you are really warm." You breathed out and he chuckled and gods, you could feel the sound against you and thought nothing about this was real, not the inn, not tonight, certainly not him.

You shifted in his embrace, trying to get a little more comfortable when he suddenly let out a low hiss, your bum brushing against-

Oh.

Oh.

You wanted to combust.

You wanted to turn around and kiss him stupid. You wanted to do everything and yet, you were frozen in place, hotness rushing through you at the thought that your prince had gotten aroused while he laid with you like this.

"'m sorry…" He whispered near your ear and in front of your inner eye, you saw his eyes closing in defeat, having given in so quickly to his carnal desires.

You were about to be a very bad betrothed.

Innocently, you moved back against him and he choked on his breath, his mouth now hovering over your nape, the damp hair you wished to be out of your way now to feel him better.

Your hand rested on his forearm around you  and you traveled your fingertips upwards, brushing over his knuckles until you could entwine your fingers, squeezing him reassuringly.

"Princess...we can't." You wanted to chuckle at his unconvinced tone, an unfamiliar strain to his voice like he was trying his best and most to hold himself back from giving in to you.

"We can." You whispered back, kissing his hand in yours and hearing him sigh behind you. "I want you so badly, I feel like I'm dying."

It was too much, to hear those same words he only dared to think in his mind, it shattered the last bit of self control Jacaerys could muster up. He had been aroused ever since he helped you undress, the dreams that usually had him waking up in a sweat in his chambers at Dragonstone now coming true right in front of him.

"Please, Jace." You added with a sigh, pushing back against him. "Give in, please."

He surged forward, his lips making contact with your neck and setting you aflame.

You let out a low moan, the sight of the wall disappearing in front of you as you closed your eyes blissfully, focused only on the feel of Jacaerys lapping at your neck.

It was like he tasted something exquisite and unique, taking his time as he brushed your hair aside, his other hand delicately holding your jaw as he suckled the sensitive spot underneath your ear, making you twitch back in surprise against the outline of his hard cock.

He stifled a groan, something final snapping in him and he turned your head, his finger swiping over your chin and cheek as you both stared at each other, pupils gone wide and dark with desire.

"May I kiss you?" He asked huskily and you nodded quickly, your hand finding its way into his curls, tugging him closer until his hot breath grazed your bottom lip.

"Yes." You let out breathlessly. "Kiss me, please, I-"

He closed the distance between you, engulfing your mouth in a hot, desperate kiss, both of your lust and longing for each other too grand to think clearly anymore.

Still gently holding your jaw and you in his arms, he kissed you passionately, his lips moving slow and relishing against yours. You sighed happily against him, your fingers tightening their hold on his curls and making him groan, his free hand spreading itself out on your stomach.

Heat sloshed through you as your tongues danced, the kiss so much more than what you'd ever could've dreamed of. You never wanted to stop again.

His embrace was possessive, with not much room for you to do anything else but give yourself over to him, caged between the wall and his lean body.

You wanted to drown in his kisses, never to be seen again.

When the air in your lungs got thinner, making you lightheaded, the two of you pulled apart, panting and staring at each other with kiss-bruised lips.

Your hand fell over his own on your stomach, the fabric of your undergarment dress worthy to you of being burned in the heat of the moment.

"Can I touch you?" Jace gasped into your ear, almost a plea.

You nodded frantically, but he shook his head, his curls brushing against your cheek. "I need to hear it from you, love."

Gods, you were truly going to die by his tender hands.

"Yes…" You hissed, your mind already drunk on him. "I want you to touch me, Jace, I need it so badly."

You ground your bum back against him and Jace released a moan, the sound going right into your core, where wetness was pooling between your thighs and making a mess of you.

He peppered kisses on your cheek and jaw, relishing the way your back arched against him as his hand dove underneath the blanket and fumbled with the seams of your gown, tugging up the fabric as he went.

His hand slid over your naked leg, the skin still a little cold and covered in goosebumps he hoped were his doing. Up and up he went and you were panting by now, mind and body controlled by arousal for him, just for him.

Resting a gentle hand on your inner thigh, he spread your legs open, just a little, and kissed you once again, so he could feel the exact moment you'd-

"Ah-" You gasped in his mouth as his fingertips touched your clit and it shouldn't have been enough, you wanted so much more, but you already felt like you were able to find release from just this.

"Gods, you're driving me insane." He groaned, burying his face in your neck and suckling on it as he slowly began to rub circles onto you, his hand dipping down further to gather more of your wetness on his fingers. 

You shuddered at the sensation of his hand between your legs and then you keened as he obscenely spread your own juices over your clit, swirling his finger over the aching bundle of nerves.

"Fuck…" You whispered, your mouth falling open as he started a careful rhythm, letting you adjust to the sensation of having your clit pampered like this, easy circles and slight rubs.

Laying on your side only seemed to heighten your senses.

Your quivering legs tangled, bodies firmly pressed together, his hands around you like vines protecting a precious secret. You did not know anymore if you were tense or melting as he played with you, experimenting with the direction his fingers could go, gently tapping against your sensitive flesh which made you see stars...

And of course, your thighs - becoming sticky with your own juices, his finger being joined by another one and carefully massaging your most intimate part. With every round they went on you, your grasp on control slipped a little more and soon, you were a writhing mess, bucking your hips against Jace's hand as he continued to kiss your neck and relished the delicious little sounds you made because of him.

"You're so wet." He murmured, in awe of you and your body and you moaned, slumping against his back as he gently plucked on your clit, shiver after shiver running through you and ruining you. "I only dreamed of you like this, princess. You are a sight to behold."

You wanted to say something, anything, but it seemed like your brain had melted, mewling as he cupped your whole core and slowly shook his hand, the friction intensifying only more as vibrations were sent through your pussy.

"Where did you learn all this?" You asked breathlessly and he chuckled, blushing and nuzzling your sweaty neck lovingly as he dipped his fingers lower, almost where you needed him the most.

"The library at Dragonstone can be very...educational. On many different topics." He murmured melodically and you were still, awaiting, as he pushed your undergarments up more, his hand drifting up over your stomach and towards your chest. "Some of the books our ancestors kept there are very...interesting to read. Diaries of fiery encounters and instructions on love making. I had to resist taking notes when I read some of those passages, on how to please women when I could only picture you in my head."

A guttural, broken moan left you when he mouthed at your neck, licking over your exposed throat.

It distracted you just enough that he nearly sent you into an early release as his wet, glistening thumb circled around one of your rosy buds before he raised the same finger to his lips and had a taste.

You both groaned in union, your thighs squeezing together as you stared at him, his own eyes closed in bliss at the taste of you. Just as he had imagined…like honeydew.

He slid his hand underneath your neck so you could rest your head on his strong arm, the same hand coming down to cup one of your aching tits. Like in everything else; you were perfect for each other here. His hand had just the right size for you.

You eagerly spread your legs again as his other hand snaked down your body again, both his and your remaining clothes drenched by sweat, the room smelling of sex.

"I'm dying to know how you feel around my fingers, princess." He confessed and you bit your lip, trying to fight the urge to cross your eyes as his fingers ghosted over your wet clit again; and losing. "Can I? Can I have you like this, my love?"

What a dirty tongue your betrothed had…

If your mind had been any clearer and not as fucked out, you would've asked him if he also learned that in his books, but that was a conversation for another day.

"Yes." You gasped instead, bucking once again against his hand over you, cupping your core and squeezing your clit between two of his digits, making you moan brokenly. "Please, Jace, I need you to fuck me, please, fuck me-"

You knew he couldn't, you both couldn't, at least this much of both your composures remained. But there were other ways to find release and apparently, your sweet betrothed was an expert at executing them.

He raised himself a little, peeking over your shoulder so he could look at your heated face, rosy cheek and wet, parted lips just for him. Jace pulled you into a kiss, sweet and slow this time and you moaned right into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks and you were overwhelmed in the best possible way as Jace's finger slid through your juices once again before he entered you.

You could've sworn you heard his and your dragon roar triumphantly in the distance as he slid his finger into your drenched core, your moan loud enough to go beyond the walls of your room and raise questions - or brows at such distasteful actions behind closed doors. If they only knew.

He groaned at how tightly you squeezed his single digit, fantasizing how you'd feel around his cock. Jace twitched against your back and you held him only tighter, your hot walls eager to let him in. 

You were so wet, it was a slippery little affair and as he let you adjust, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your clit, his rhythm reflected in the way your core clenched up deliciously.

You locked eyes with him, half-lidded and ready to die a sweet death at his hands, begging him softly: "You can move. It's okay, you won't hurt me." 

It was like you were playing your wedding night and he let out a shuddering breath, needing to stay in control before he threw it out of the window and deflowered you right here, in a bed and place that wasn't worthy of you. He'd never forgive himself if he would not make it special.

Slowly, he pushed forward and further into your heat, his finger quickly becoming wet and slippery and covered in you.

You let out a satisfied sigh, letting yourself be kissed as he oh so gently began to build up an easy rhythm, not brave enough yet to sink to the knuckle into you, but feeding your soaked cunt more and more of him, his mind alert to spot any discomfort in you and ready to stop and wait for you.

But you had wanted him for far too long to need any more caution from him.

And the sounds - gods, the sounds were driving you insane. You were so wet, your pussy was making slurping sounds at the intrusion of his finger and you bit your lip blissfully when he finally found his pace, light and easy on you, but no less hot and intense.

Only the rain splattering against the windows and your little moans and gasps could be heard as he fingered you gently, the pads of his finger dragging over your walls and trying to find the one tiny spot he had read about, enough to make a woman lose her mind and all final restraints if done right.

You were mewling, gripping his arm over your chest tightly and occasionally biting his skin softly to stop you from being too loud. 

"You are so beautiful." He slurred against your temple, keeping his eyes only on you to capture every one of your reactions and keep it in his mind.

You moaned wantonly, maybe because of the praise or because his thumb dragged over your pulsing clit, he didn't know. But oh, how he wanted to find out.

For just a moment, he stilled his movements and you looked at him with wide eyes, your hips trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, but him not letting you. 

Jace watched you closely, quickly kissing your quivering lips before his voice dropped low and he murmured: "Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, my love. You're squeezing me so tightly, ñuha jorrāeliarzy, you are the most beautiful thing in the whole realm and all mine."

"Yours." You echoed and whimpered, solely because of his words.

He couldn't help but smile besottedly, storing the effect of his words on you away for another time and  resuming to fingering you gently. 

Soon, after you whispered you were ready for one more, two of his fingers were now softly pumping in and out of you and you knew you could not last much longer under his sweet tormention.

Your hips had begun to move on their own and he watched you with both fascination and love as you rode on his fingers, your eyes closed and your lovely mouth opened in the sweetest o-shape. 

If he'd still now, he knew you'd continue to fuck yourself on him and god, how he wanted to see it, but there was still one ace up his sleeve and he couldn't wait any longer to try it.

He crooked both his fingers upwards and you tensed in his arms, moaning into his arm and losing yourself almost completely as he touched a part of you you didn't even know existed.

"Jacaerys, gods, I-" You whimpered as the pads of his fingers rubbed against that rough little spot in you, your hips twitching uncontrollably.

"Let go for me, princess." He encouraged you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling his face against yours sweetly. "I can feel you dripping around me, your perfect cunt weeping for me…"

You were floating, only held back by Jacaerys' arms around you, playing your body like a delicate instrument as one hand played with your tit while the other still rubbed against your sweet spot, eager to bring you to release.

His thumb came back onto your clit and your hips arched, pressing yourself forward against his sticky hand as he rubbed delicious circles on you.

"Come for me, my love, I need to see, need to feel you." He coaxed you further, smiling against your neck and adding in a whisper: "Let go for me, my sweet wife."

That was it.

You exploded, coming hard around his fingers, whimpering pitifully as tears of pleasure and overwhelm escaped your eyes. 

You rode your high, your hips helplessly bucking against Jacaerys as he kissed your tears away, softly talking you through it and soothing you down with gentle hands from a peak you had no idea how to recover from…

Jace watched you closely, fascinated and so, so in love, as he slowly slipped his fingers out of you, an obscene string connecting them to your wetness he could not see.

To make sure you would not feel too empty, his hand cupped your mound, keeping you warm and secure as little aftershocks ran through you and you were panting and peppering little kisses on his arm, clinging to him with all your might.

"You were so good…" Jace whispered lovingly, kissing whatever he could reach of you, his body keeping you warm and sated in the aftermath of both your actions. "So, so beautiful…"

You hummed, tired and thoroughly happy as you slowly calmed down, relishing the feeling of his warm hand still on you, carefully avoiding your spent parts so you wouldn't feel overstimulated.

Exhaustion clung to your bones, a mixture of the long day on dragonback and the oblivion of good sex, but you still felt Jacaerys hard against your back. He had not yet found his release and you were eager to give it to him.

You tried to turn around, to reach down between you and touch him, but he was not having it.

"Sh sh, this was only about you, my love." He shushed you, his strong arms efficiently stopping you from wriggling against him. He soothed his hands over your sides and kissed your temple. "When I take you to bed properly, it will be at Dragonstone where I can take care of you as a loving husband should."

You shivered at the promise, without any coldness left in your veins.

He smiled against your cheek, his fingers lightly drawing circles onto your hip bone as he leaned closer and whispered into your ear: "And then, I'm going to take my time with you, princess, learning how you taste on my tongue...ravishing that sweet little cunt of yours…"

Your core deliciously clenched up at the thought, but you were also sleepy, your eyelids already betraying your intentions as they drooped. You snuggled yourself closer against Jacaerys, stifling a yawn.

"Don't worry, we'll have all the time in the world…" Jace lulled you closer to sleep, the sweet nothings he whispered to you being like a warm blanket draping itself over you.

"Jacaerys…" You mumbled, feeling your grasp on staying awake slip further as his hands ran softly over you, making your mind hazy and blank. "Thank you...I- I'm very warm now…"

He laughed quietly, his chest blooming with happiness as he felt your body slump against his. 

Jace closed his own eyes, resting his chin on top of your head and holding you against him protectively. He was the luckiest prince of the realm tonight and forever if he only had you.

And you, his princess, were warm and sated and in the embrace of the one you belonged to.

And suddenly, as you drifted off into a long and peaceful slumber, flying back to Dragonstone in the morning did not look so dreadful anymore...

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[brittle-doughie]

BRITTLE

I want Customer cookie so bad.

(btw​ Cobalt cookie is a dude??​ Thought he was some kind of mafia girl boss like Capt ice cookie until I hear his voice and gaADDAM)

“Pardon me, fair merchant. You wouldn’t happen to have a Midnight Lotus on you, right?”

Both the Customer Cookie and the Rich Merchant Cookie were surprised by your sudden appearance.

“Ah! Forgive me, but the Midnight Lotus is a rare, special kind of plant! I can only offer it to you if you’re-“

“If I’m a VIP status cookie, I got you. Oh well, I guess the garden in my kingdom will have to incomplete~”

You feigned your disbelief with a wrist to your forehead. The Rich Merchant perked up at the mention of your kingdom.

“Pardon me, but did you say your kingdom?”

“Yep, you heard me right. I’m the ruler of that kingdom, even if I don’t look like the part. I’ll respect your policy, merchant~”

The rich merchant stuttered in his words with your inflection, trying to gather his thoughts in order!

“Wait, y-your majesty! I had no idea you were a ruler, please forgive my mistake. You can have a Midnight Lotus at half the cost!”

“Well well, you changed your tune fast. I won’t pass this up, so I’ll take you on your offer!”

You handed your bag of coins in exchange for the plant, leaving before the merchant realized you still bought the Lotus from him full price.

You took the plant and handed it over to the Customer Cookie, who was shocked to see you just give it to him!

“W-what?! You’re giving the Midnight Lotus to me?”

“Yep, you can have this, I bought it specifically for you.”

Customer Cookie hesitated to look at you and then at the plant, before slowly taking it. He looked at the plant for a bit before a smile dawned on his face.

“T-Thank you, uh…”

“Y/N Cookie.”

“Right, yes! Thank you, Y/N Cookie. I’ll never forget this.”

“You better, that still costed quite a hefty coin!”

You both share a laugh as you parted to head back to Golden Osmanthus Cookie,

Customer Cookie looking at the plant in his hands, before hugging it close to his chest, pink slightly dusting his cheeks.

In a way, the plant reminded him of you…

[panda-writes-kpop]

your home is the sea, my home is you ~ pirate! giselle

a/n: after almost seven months (good LORD), we have a third pirate aespa fic!!! and everyone cheered!!! this may be one of my favorite works of the year, there's something so tender and sincere in this fic that I can't quite put my finger on. anyways, gonna go watch Hugh Jackman edits on repeat until I get more fic ideas! 🫶

tw: mentions of robbery, violence, and other crimes associated with being a pirate, a LOT of swearing, the faintest hint of winselle, it's not angst but it gets sad at times???

summary: Your idea for your latest novel has you ruminating on your previous relationship with the woman who haunts your dreams, Giselle. Giselle's longing for a missing piece of her heart leads her to your front doorstep. She just has to hope that you won't close your heart to her, just as she did to you years ago.

♡ Masterlist ♡

A cool ocean breeze wraps around her neck as the chill of the night starts to seep into her bones. Every part of her is screaming to run, to go far away from the things that scare her.

But what is life without a little bit of adventure?

You watch the pendulum in your grandfather clock swing forward as the next words flow easily onto the paper.

She wanted to experience the adventure of the ocean, to let her heart travel with the ocean waves that beckoned her forward. But what was she to do? Abandon her family? Leave the familiarity of her hometown behind?

Leave them behind? The one person who supported them through thick and thin?

The pendulum swings back as you stare at the candlelight in your bedroom.

Rosella had a choice to make, one that would decide her entire destiny. A friend, or a lifetime of fulfillment?

Their call was strong, but the ocean’s was stronger. 

~

With one hand on your naval revolver and the other on your bag, your feet hit the ground with increasing frequency as you run towards the docks. You had a deadline to meet with your time and your writing. The traveling night market was in town tonight, and within their merry caravan of travelers was your editor. A shrewd old woman with a sharp tongue who had been your mentor since you had abandoned your studies to pursue writing as a career.

I would’ve stayed if Giselle stayed.

You shake your head at the thought of your childhood best friend - you were nothing but a fleeting nostalgic memory to her, so she should be the same to you.

The book, the market - I have to hurry.

Unfortunately, the night market only accepted incoming foot traffic until midnight, and according to your grandfather clock, it was a centimeter past eleven-fifty. Your home was ten minutes away from the docks - you’d be cutting it close if you were simply walking.

~

“You’re early.” The guard jokes as you pull out the business card that Merrin, your editor, gave to you. “She still edits your books?”

“As long as I keep writing them.” You fold your arms as the guard stares at the card. “Can I go in?”

“Try to make it quick - she’s in one of those moods again.” 

You pluck the card from their hand before waving at them.

“She’s always in a mood, but I have to hope that it’s a good one.”

You greet the various merchants and regulars that pass by you - most of them are familiar with your work, even if you use a moniker instead of your real name. It isn’t hard to deduce who the newest novelist on the block is when you know their publisher by name.

“When’s the new novel coming?” One shouts at you as you chuckle to yourself. “The last one really pulled on my heartstrings, and I need a bit of a pick-me-up before I go for a second read.”

“You’ll get your hands on it as soon as everyone else does.” You reassure them as they jokingly scoff and walk away.

Oh, the bliss of only being recognized by a small crowd of people.

You stop in front of the last tent on the docks - a large purple cloth hangs over the rods and poles that make up the foundation of the tent. Angry red vines dart over various parts of the tent, but none dare to cross each other.

You take a deep breath before entering the tent.

Hopefully her mood won’t sour mine.

“You’re earlier than usual. Did you get sick and tired of begging the guard to let you in until I would show up and save your ass?” Merrin, dressed in a conservative, frilly white dress, lights a candle with one hand as she balances on her cane with the other.

“Does your bad mood have to do with whoever’s wedding you interrupted?” You bite your lip as she slowly turns toward you.

“If my glasses were on me, I’d knock you to the floor with my cane.” She hobbles over to another table to light another candle as you approach the middle of the room. “And I thought this dress looks nice on me.”

“Yeah, if you were a fourteen-year-old noble who was forced to marry a man decades older than her.” Another sharp look from Merrin causes you to shut your mouth before she fulfills her early promise. “Are you in the mood to read something I’ve written?”

“Depends on if it’s better than the utter shit I’ve been reading all day.” Merrin sets her cane aside as she sits on one of the two chairs near the middle of the room. “Hand me my glasses, will you?”

“Don’t hit me with your cane, you old witch.” You pick her glasses up off of the floor before handing them to her.

“Why, I ought to-” She quickly grabs her cane, which causes you to immediately sit in the chair on her left.

You’re both playing with each other - she won’t hit you that hard, and you won’t completely piss her off. It’s just the way that Merrin is, and if you’re careful, you can break down her walls and see the woman behind the anger and sass.

As you look over to her, Merrin lightly taps your ankle with her cane as a rare smile appears on her face.

“How’s the novel coming? More progress than scribbles and midnight thoughts, I hope?” She looks surprised as you pull a bundle of parchment from your bag.

“I managed to get a chapter out, but it’s a rough draft, Merrin.” You remind her as you hand her the papers. “It isn’t very good-”

“-that’s for me to decide.” She says as she grabs the papers and adjusts the glasses on her face.

“I-” You interject before she gives you a pointed glare.

“Shut your damn mouth so I can read in peace.”

~

Sometimes you wonder why you chose Merrin as your editor - a form of punishment, perhaps?

That’s what you feel like you’re doing to yourself as she carefully scans every single word on the pages that you scribbled on. A spotlight has closed in on you, and you’re sweating under the pressure. What will you do if she rejects you again after this draft? Will you finally part ways with the woman who helped you find a path when you were nothing but an empty wanderer?

Merrin clears her throat as your attention snaps back to her.

She thinks it’s terrible - I’m never going to live this latest failure down.

“This is quite good.” She softly says as she reorganizes the papers for you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“And I thought I was the one with bad hearing, being old and all.” She snorts as you reach for the papers from her extended hand.

As soon as your hand touches them, Merrin snatches them out of your reach with a knowing smile.

“I have one question about the main character.” 

“Alright, lay it on me.” You sigh in relief as you can mentally prepare yourself for her critiques.

Rosella was hardly fleshed out, and she had little-to-no dialogue to give perspective into her motivations, ideals, and personality. Perhaps Merrin could help you with that?

“What woman inspired you to write Rosella?” She asks as you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“I, uh…” You nervously look around, trying to think of an escape route. “She’s based on a friend, from long, long ago.”

You stress that this woman was long behind you, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s not like she would show back up in your life after years and years of silence.

“Well, if you see this friend from a long, long time ago,” She stresses the words the same way you did, “tell her that she’s one hell of a protagonist.”

“I will.” You grit your teeth as your mind wanders to the woman in question.

I hope I never see her again.

~

Giselle scribbles various notes onto the map within the captain’s quarters. She used to be the primary navigator when the Red-Hair Pirates were nothing but an idea in Winter’s head.

“One day, this boat will be filled with pirates and friends we’ve collected in our travels,” Winter looked over to Giselle before placing a hand on her back, “and I’m going to need you to be by my side, every second of every day.”

Winter paused for a moment, before walking towards the ship and extending her hand to her.

“You have everything you ever need here - a good education, family, friends, and stability. I’m offering adventure until your heart's content, enough money to set your family up for life, and every kind of booze imaginable.”

“Even rum?” Giselle tilted her head at Winter, who gave her a toothy grin.

“Especially rum. So, are you in or what?”

“I’m in, I just… have to say some goodbyes first.”

Now, her role within the crew was more muddled, somewhat lying between weaponsmaster and navigator. Usually, she would sort out her navigating affairs in the morning, and then keep up with the weapons in the afternoon. The nighttime was reserved for merrymaking and hell-raising - just as Giselle liked it.

But there was a part of her missing, something she had been chasing with booze and adventure that couldn’t be replaced.

What was she missing?

“Giselle!” Karina barrels into the captain’s quarters as she nearly collides into the table.

“You’re still drunk.” She chuckles. “You can’t handle your liquor for shit.”

“And you prefer in that way, so you can scam me out of my money.” Karina scoffs before loudly hiccuping.

“Alright,” Giselle stops working and puts her hands up in the air, “I am a bit of a trickster, but we’re pirates, remember? It’s kind of our thing.”

“Eh.” Karina shrugs before throwing a book onto the desk where Giselle was working.

“What’s this?” 

She studies the book for a moment before looking at Karina

“A gift from the Captain. Winter says to come see her after giving it a read.” Karina stumbles out of the door before loudly shutting it.

“Riveting conversation with a drunk Karina, like usual.” Giselle mumbles to herself. “I wonder why Winter would want me to read this?”

Her hands gently trace the spine as she studies the author’s name in bold ink.

It’s not one she recognizes, but perhaps she might know the writing style? Curious, Giselle carefully opens the book and begins to read.

~

It was mid-afternoon before Giselle exited the captain’s quarters, much later than usual. When she does, she immediately charges towards her quarters in a fury.

It takes every bone in Giselle’s body to stop her from ripping her room to shreds to find the letters that she had locked away years ago.

The letters that reminded her of you. The letters that had the same cadence and writing style that you did. Those letters tied you to her, and, at the moment, pointed to you as the author.

More than that, Giselle had come to the realization that Winter knew that the two of you were connected.

And that was more terrifying than confronting someone from her past.

Giselle finds the letters under her bed, and they’re carefully tied together with a bit of rope. She snatches them within an instant, and she tucks them under her arm before beginning her journey to find Winter.

“Giselle!” Ningning calls out to her as Giselle appears on the upper deck. “I had a question about some of the knives that I found in the gunroom.”

“Not the time.” Giselle charges right past her as she spots Winter on the quarterdeck. 

“Is that the book Winter asked me to get you?” 

Giselle, with no hesitation, turns on her heel to face the assassin.

“Of course she did!” She sighs before turning around. “Am I the one finding this out last when it’s my business?”

“If it comforts you, I didn’t ask for any details. I just grabbed the book and gave it to her.” Ningning plays with a knife in her hand as Giselle tightly squeezes the book in her left hand.

“Thanks.” She grumbles before calling out to Winter, “Hey, you have some explaining to do!”

“As do you!” Winter copies her volume, but she waits until Giselle comes closer to begin speaking in a softer tone. “Are they the reason why you tried to send letters back to your hometown from the different ports that we stopped in?”

“You knew about that?” Giselle stares, absolutely befuddled.

“I know when my friends aren’t themselves. I did a little digging, and I found a gold vein.” Winter looks out to the ocean. “You could’ve told me, you know. We could’ve worked something out.”

“But you needed me-”

“-I did, but I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I knew that your loyalties lied with someone else.”

Giselle physically deflates before confessing the truth to Winter.

“So you know that I was a part of the naval academy before I joined you.” Giselle looks away in shame, like a small puppy. “They were too, but we quit together-”

“-so you could chase your dreams together. You, an acclaimed mapmaker. Them, an accomplished novelist. Do I have the narrative right?” Winter raises an eyebrow at Giselle.

Not quite.

“I loved them.” Giselle bites her lip. “I love them.”

Panic covers Giselle’s face as she opens her mouth to speak.

“There it is,” Winter smirks before yelling to the crew, “Set sail to the west.”

“I’m doing you a favor, mind you. You need to figure this out before it ends with you getting yourself killed. I can’t stand to watch my crewmate, my friend, drink herself into an early grave.”

“So we’re doing this?” Giselle asks.

“You’re doing this.”

~

“The pirates are coming! The pirates are coming!” A man on a horse repeats the same phrase over and over as he passes by your estate.

Pirates? Here? Why?

No, it can’t be those pirates.

Your head snaps towards the nearest window that faces the docks. In the distance, you can see a large pirate show approaching your humble town.

And wouldn’t you know it, the flag on the ship shows a dead skull sporting some fire-red hair.

The Red-Hair Pirates.

The crew that Giselle’s a part of.

Shit.

You can see a group of villagers approach the docks from your side, and you’re sure a fight will break out - no, a bloodbath will occur - if someone doesn’t get down there and stop it.

Maybe that naval training will come into use.

~

“Your kind isn’t welcome here.” A villager points a large shotgun at Winter’s chest, and she seems unphased by his outburst.

“We’re not here to loot, we just want to rest.” She pulls out a gold coin and flips it into the air before grabbing it and offering it to the villager. “Our coin is good here, no?”

“I-” He pauses before studying the coin. “One night. And the only place that you can shop is the night market.”

“That sounds like our kind of place, right?” Winter turns to her pirates, who cheer loudly. “I’ll make sure they’ll behave, I swear.”

“You better.” He scoffs before spitting at the ground. “C’mon, we have better things to do than guard open docks.”

The villagers disperse, which causes Giselle to sigh in relief.

That’s a battle I didn’t want to fight.

“Alright, everyone, back on the ship until nightfall. We aren’t welcome here until then, so this boat better be spotless in a few hours!” Winter commands, and her crew scrambles back onto the ship as Winter pulls Giselle aside. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do, and I don’t need backup. I’ll be back before nighttime.” Giselle softly says before Winter grabs her shoulder.

“I’d like to meet your friend, if they want to meet me. Perhaps it can help explain why you left - take some of the blame off of your shoulders,” Winter shrugs, “Or I can just have a drink with a friend and a friend of a friend. Either works for me.”

They’re… leaving?

“Not sure I’d call us friends, but I’ll see what I can do.”

~

You watch from a distance as the villagers, your neighbors, disperse with varying emotions on their faces. Some look relieved, others seem pissed, but most appear to be indifferent.

As if killing another wasn’t a brutal act that weighed on your soul for as long as you lived.

A woman with striking red hair turns to the pirates on the dock, and with only a few words, she sends them back onto the ship.

Their captain - Winter, the pirate queen of myths and legends.

Infamous doesn’t even begin to describe Winter, as her face was neatly plastered on every wanted board across the nation. Her reputation of brutality nearly exceeds her generosity and kindness. She took from the rich government ships and gave to the poor towns that she traveled to.

Almost like a storybook character. Perhaps my next protagonist can take some of her qualities.

Before all of her crew can go back to the ship, Winter pulls one of them aside. A girl with blonde hair, but a face that you recognize. Not from the wanted posters that showed her with black hair and a devilish yet charming smile.

But a ghost from your past, the woman who you were hoping to escape from. The girl who had invaded your dreams every night since she left.

Your Rosella.

Giselle.

You want to turn away, to run back to the safety of your home, but you can’t. Not because you want to see Giselle, but because she’d follow you back home.

After all, it was her home too.

With a deep breath, and as much courage as you can muster, you let your feet carry you towards Giselle.

Towards your destiny.

Giselle’s eyes widen as she sees you walking towards her with an unreadable expression on your face. You’re not completely pissed, which is good, but you don’t look happy. You’re not sad, but there isn’t any longing in your eyes. There’s no indifference in your face, but when your eyes meet hers, a twinkle of nostalgia appears briefly.

~

Perhaps you missed her as much as she missed you.

“You look…” Giselle pauses as the two of you meet in the middle of the road. “Well.”

“Thanks.” You nod before looking out to the ocean. “I like your blonde hair. It suits you.”

“Thanks…” Giselle trails off while hoping that the road would open up and swallow her whole.

Why was it so hard to talk to you? She thought of a million things to say to you, but none of them seemed right.

So let’s start with the simplest one.

“I’m sorry.”

When the words leave her lips, you look over in surprise.

As if you thought that she meant to hurt you.

A dagger slices through her heart, as the wound that is your shared history is reopened again. She’s going to let herself drown in bad blood unless she says something else.

Something that will make this right.

Nothing will, she knows this. But why not try?

“I’m sorry for leaving you with such a shitty goodbye. I’m sorry for convincing you to leave the naval academy with me and then leaving you behind. I’m sorry that I never was able to return your letters.” She pauses to hand you them.

“You kept them?” You tilt your head at her. “After all of these years?”

“Of course I did.” She says before softly laughing. “It was the only reminder I had of home.”

“I thought the sea was your home.” 

“No, my home was always you.” Giselle quietly mumbles. “I wanted to explore, to see the world, but I wanted to come back home.”

“Why didn’t you write me back?” Your voice is laced with hurt, and Giselle wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms.

But you’re not that close, not anymore.

“I tried to, but no letter carrier would take my money. Turns out that people aren’t fond of pirates,” She scoffs, “but I kept them all in my quarters. Perhaps you’d like to see them?”

A light smile appears on your face - you’re actually contemplating her offer.

“Would you like to see the home first? I don’t know if it has changed much-”

“-that sounds great.” Giselle lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

A peace offering. An olive branch. Perhaps you can begin anew?

~

Months ago, you would’ve sworn at Giselle if she had set foot in your town, let alone in your house. That was before you finished the book, before a character in that book taught you something about forgiveness.

“Will you ever forgive me, my dear?” Rosella says to her beloved. “I know it’s been years, but I can’t help but yearn for you. Our souls are intertwined, and no amount of treasure will ever make up for losing you.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive and forget, but…”

“But?” A flicker of hope appears in Rosella’s eyes.

“But maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

You watch Giselle comb over your bookshelf as you take a seat in the living room. 

“You really didn’t change this place, huh?” She says before sitting at a chair on the opposite end of the room.

“It didn’t feel right. This is still your home, after all.” You say.

“Our home,” Giselle corrects you before her eyes widen, “shit. I didn’t mean to-”

You wave away her concerns with a charming smile.

“No, it’s alright.”

An awkward silence spreads over the room - what should you say to her now?

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Giselle softly asks before looking in your eyes. “I don’t want to intrude if I’m not welcome.”

You take a deep breath - it’s time to address the massive elephant in the room.

“Giselle, I don’t want to do this back-and-forth with you. I want to talk about what happened between us.” 

You’re surprised at how mature you sound, how non-malicious your words are. You had gone over this moment a thousand times in your head, but none of them were this nice or friendly.

“What is there to talk about? I ruined your life, no, our lives. I promised you that pirating was only a temporary thing, and you can see how that ended-”

“It pains me to see you tear yourself up about this, Giselle.” You calmly say as she pauses and reflects for a moment. “How can we move forward if we’re stuck reliving the past over and over?”

“You want to start again?” 

Giselle looks dumbfounded as you nod.

“We might not be that close again, not for a long time, but we can try being friends. Then we’ll see where it goes.” You shrug your shoulders as she thinks for a moment before responding.

“Why would you let me get away with what I did to you? I left you alone for years, with not a word of my health and well-being. Why put yourself through that again?”

You chuckle to yourself as familiar words come to the front of your mind.

“Maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

“From your book.” She responds wistfully before her eyes widen. “You wrote yourself as the love interest?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod as the realization comes crashing down on Giselle.

“And the girl, Rosella, who is strong, beautiful, and kind. The girl who messes up time after time yet she still manages to redeem herself - that’s me?”

“Yup.” You’re quiet for a moment, to allow Giselle to process everything. “Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration?”

“Why?” She leans forward as her voice quivers in anticipation. “Why me?”

“Because no matter how much I hated you, I could never get you out of my head. You haunted my every dream and nightmare. I couldn’t escape your grasp, so I wrote about the woman who had completely transfixed my mind, body, and soul.” 

A breathy chuckle escapes your lips.

This is just like a confession that I would write in my book. The next thing she would say is I love you-

“I never stopped loving you.” She confesses before standing up.

You stand up to meet her gaze.

“Neither did I.”

~

“To be completely honest,” Winter says as you and Giselle approach the docks, “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

“You’re still my captain, Winter.” She smiles before gesturing to you. “This is my friend, the one I told you about.”

“Friend,” She stares at your intertwined hands, “right. Excuse my staring. It isn’t every day that you meet an author of legend.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you to say.” You nudge Giselle’s shoulder. “Why can’t you be as charming as her?”

“Hey-” She tries to defend herself, but Winter’s laughter cuts her off.

“Oh, I like them. They’d be a good addition to our crew.”

Your mouth hangs agape as you blink rapidly.

“You… you can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so, unless Giselle objects?” Winter turns to Giselle, who glances at you.

“It’s your decision. I won’t force it on you-”

“Yes,” You quickly answer, “but I’m not sure what use I would be to your crew.”

“We could use your writing and organizing skills to keep track of weapons, finances, maps, food, and other supplies on the ships. That means that you would be working closely with Giselle and I.” Winter explains as you nod along. “Plus there would be plenty of time for you to continue writing your latest masterpiece. I know you’re good with a gun - I can see the Navy’s engravings on the handle, so combat won’t be an issue for you.”

You quickly hide your gun holster with your coat.

“I hope you don’t take offense to my weapons background,” You say before leaning over to Giselle, “how the fuck does she know all of that?”

“Long story, I’ll explain after a drink or two,” Giselle whispers back, “but I’m glad that you’re going with us. It’ll be nice to show you to all of the places that we’ve been before.”

“Got it.” You smile before letting go of Giselle’s hand.

She reaches out to grab it, but you instead maneuver around her hand to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I, um…” She struggles to articulate her feelings as a furious blush appears on her face.

Winter laughs loudly before gesturing towards the ship.

“We still have a few hours before nightfall. Perhaps we can celebrate with a drink?”

“Sounds good. You in?” You ask Giselle, who can’t even look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Her face is still red as Winter walks to the ship.

“Feel free to join me when you’re ready.”

You go to follow behind her, but Giselle stops you by catching your arm with her hand.

“Hey, I-” She pauses to regain her composure, “Thank you, for this. I needed it.”

“It really isn’t a problem,” You say before leaning in to tease her, “but don’t expect me to kiss you every time you need a pick-me-up.”

“Damn, you know my schemes before I can properly plan them.” Giselle smirks before pulling you closer. “But I can always kiss you, right?”

She closes the distance between your lips before quickly pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Tease.” You grumble as she leans back.

“You started it, and I ended it.” She shrugs before her hand slips into yours. “We shouldn’t keep Winter waiting - we don’t want her to have a bad impression of you, right?”

You nod as Giselle leads you on to the ship.

As her crewmates greet you and welcome you onto the ship, you wonder if this new chapter of your life will be something to write about.

Maybe it’s time for my story to be told.

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, drinking, cussing, oral (f receiving), p in v, squirting, creampie, dubcon, breeding kink, degradation, uh that's about it

Chapter 5:

According to the clock tacked up behind the bar it was past midnight. Your brother was still perched at the bar, knocking back moonshine and staring at you and Coryo. He's been watching the two of you all night go back and forth between the dance floor and a wall side table. Seeing you so enchanted by Private Snow along with being introduced to his fellow Peacekeepers pissed him off.

If it wasn't for Ashlie plying him with moonshine and reminding him with harsh whispers that he can't make a scene because she can't afford to lose her job, well, he would've started shit with Coryo. But, since he had booze flowing freely at his beck and call he decided to stay put on his bar stool. Plus, he has to admit, even in his inebriated state, that the family couldn't afford Ashlie to lose her job. Hell, it was bad enough that you lost your job.

And now your brother's starting to think that maybe the Doula running the apothecary shop fired you because she felt uneasy with Private Snow hanging around you. Hey, Rein knows that you had to meet him somewhere; it only makes sense that you met him in town. In the Merchant's Sector while working.

Your brother was over everything. He did his best to raise you, but you seem to be cut from the same cloth as your mother. Rein never liked his stepfather, Colonel Javanis Halvir, and he never told you about him or the truth about how he died. About how both of your parents died.

But if you keep hanging on Private Snow as if the sun shines out of his damn asshole then he might have to tell you the truth. As a scare tactic. A warning to stay away from the pretty boy peacekeeper that's wooing you with twisted words and pretty pearly white smiles.

“Stop staring at that peacekeeper like you want him to drop dead, Rein.” Ashlie ordered her longtime boyfriend in a long, drawn out huff. When her only reply from him was a squint of his Seam grey eyes, she sighed. Looking between your brother and you, as you sat on Coryo's lap sipping on moonshine, Ashlie told your brother, “I'll have a talk with her in the morning about him.” Patting his arm before going over to a customer, she added in, “I'm sure this is just a passing fancy.”

“If she's anything like my mom, well, it ain't just a passing fancy.” Rein slurred, knocking back his shine.

His eyes narrowed disapprovingly as he watched Coriolanus motioning for you to stand up; setting your shine jar down only to stand up after you. He couldn't make out what was being said, but it looks like Coriolanus and you are saying your goodbyes to a couple of his peacekeeper friends.

Goddamnit, he hopes you don't do anything stupid tonight.

You and Coryo walked back to your place from the Hobb side by side. In fact, he had his arm snaked around you; keeping you tightly glued to his hip. The smell of smoke and shine heavily lingered on the two of you. Even in the fresh summer's night air, the stench of the Hobb was heavily stained on you.

“Look, that's the North Star.” You pointed out the star that is used by sailor's and such for navigation. “I read that sailors and military men use it like a compass, if they don't have one, during the dead of night.” You explained, looking at Coriolanus with a smile as he looked up at the bright star shining in the black velvet sky. “It's also known as Polaris.”

“I've never seen it before, darling. The bright lights of the Capitol doesn't make stargazing very easy.”

“We can always lay in the meadow and stargaze sometime if you want.” You offered as you and Coryo continued on your way to your house.

“We'll do it one night, but not tonight.” Coriolanus told you. His breath was hot against your ear as he huskily said, “Tonight I'm going to show you how much I love you.” Pressing his lips to your temple, he crudely promised, “I'm going to fuck you so good tonight, baby.” Giving you a wide, eccentric grin, he added, “And it's all because I love you.”

You felt your heart racing a mile a minute in your chest at the implication of his words, his promise. Were you ready for that? To be fucked. Honestly, you weren't sure.

Coryo was so charming and nice to you. He’s also so devoted despite not being with you that long. And he claims to love you.

So why are you so nervous about his plans for tonight? Is it because you've never done that before or is it something else?

A sloppy wet kiss on your jawline, near your ear, accompanied by a deep husky question of, “You ready for me to make you mine tonight, baby girl?”, shook you out of your mental musings.

Worrying your lip, you slightly pulled away from your platinum blonde peacekeeper and honestly told him in a small nervous voice, “I dunno, Coryo. I've never…you know…been with anyone or been in love before.”

The peacekeeper stopped you both dead in your tracks, only to spin you around and take hold of your face. Squishing your cheeks in his large, calloused hands- his long fingers brushing into your hair, Coriolanus firmly told you with lust in his deep baritone, “I love you, Y/N, and you love me too. I'll always love you; tonight’s time for us to act on our feelings.” Pressing his forehead against yours, he promised, “If you're scared of me fucking you and leaving, don't be. I swear, I'll never leave you. Death itself can't even separate us.”

You still felt nervous, but his romantic words had you giving into his desire. Albeit relentlessly, you agreed to let him make you his tonight in every sense of the word. Your easy cooperation had Coriolanus grinning triumphantly from ear to ear.

Gesturing to your nearby house with a tilt of his head, your boyfriend suggested, “Let's get inside; make ourselves comfortable in your room.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded, although your heart was heavily beating against your ribcage.

You knew that as soon as you walked into your house and entered your room with Coryo that things between the two of you would never be the same again. That things would be serious and binding since he swore to never leave your side once he made love to you.

Well, he said the word fuck, but you'd prefer to say making love since it sounds better. Or at least to you it sounds less crude.

But in time Coryo’ll have you saying fuck too, cause he's not a ‘making love' type of man.

The only light in your small room came from the moonlight streaming in from the window. The silver light cast a glow on your naked body as you lay in bed, chest heaving as you wither under Coryo's touch. His head was between your shaky legs, which were slung haphazardly over his squared shoulders.

The only sound in the room was that of your wet pussy squelching obscenely as he fingered you, faster and faster, while using his tongue to flick and lick your clit.

“Coryo…” You mewled, feeling the coil tighten in your lower belly, as you fisted your faded white sheets.

Resting his head against your inner thigh, while continuing to pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, he told you, “You're close, baby.” In between placing open mouth kisses along your inner thigh, he asked, “You want me to make you cum? Hmm, darling?”

Of course you want him to make you cum. Your head's spinning and your core’s throbbing. There's an itch inside of you that you desperately need scratched; Coryo's the only one that can do that for you. He's the one that has you teetering at the edge of an intense feeling you've never felt before. Of course you want, no need, him to tip you over the edge into nirvana.

“Yes.” You whine. Nodding your head rapidly, you babble, “Please, Coryo, please make me cum.”

Coriolanus' hot breath fans over the soft skin of your inner thigh as he chuckles, hearty and deep, at your response to his question. It amuses him how he has you, a sweet and innocent girl, squirming and begging under him like a seasoned wanton whore. Only for him tho.

Only for him.

Coriolanus moved his fingers faster inside of your tight wet hole while bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucked hard on the swollen bundle of nerves before using his prominent nose to press against it, hard, while running his tongue sloppily over your folds. He was lewdly eating your cunt with such hunger, such vigor.

Your sweet juices tasted heavenly to him. God, he swears you're the best pussy he's ever tasted; he can't get enough of you. He's literally inhaling you as he laps at your folds, sucking your nectar into his mouth as if it’s a magical elixir to cure everything wrong with him. His nose continues to press into your pearl, making friction that sets your nerves on fire. That paired with the curl of his rough fingers hard and fast against the special spongy spot inside of you and his tongue messily passing thru your puffy petals has you seeing stars.

You cum with his name falling from your lips like a prayer, legs quaking and squeezing around his head. Your head thrashes around on your pillow as he continues to eat your cunt while you ride out your high. Coryo's got his hand, the one that's not stuck inside of your pussy, firmly holding down your lower stomach; preventing you from bucking your hips.

As your breathing steadily evens out, the platinum peacekeeper pulls his fingers out of your cunt and lifts his head. Pressing a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, he tells you, “You've got such a sweet cunt, darling.” Pushing himself up, he raunchily smirks, “Sweeter than honey.”, before sucking your juices off of his fingers.

Your eyes are blown wide by lust and intrigue as you watch Coryo, kneeling between your spread legs in nothing, but his white boxers (which has a wet patch of pre-cum staining them), sucking on two of his long fingers with such erotic fervor. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and your pussy grew wetter while watching Coryo's eyes flutter as his tongue swirled around his fingers; gathering up all of your juices.

Coriolanus pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a loud, wet pop. Moving off the bed and pulling down his boxers, he smirked, “You're so wet and ready for me, my darling.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you took in the sight of Coryo's cock. You've never seen one before, but by the looks of it, well, you knew his was big. It had to be at least 8 inches; was thick too with veins running alongside it. His tip was angry and red, leaking precum.

Coriolanus saw you warily eying up his cock as he took his place kneeling on the bed between your spread legs. Using his hand to spread his pre-cum on his length, to use as lube, he began to give himself a few prep pumps. All while darkly smirking, “Gonna split you open with my big cock, baby.”

Since Coryo's the only man you've ever been with, you're not used to dirty talk. It did turn you on, but you do feel a bit- dunno- flustered by it too. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. Yes, everything you're doing with him feels good, but…still…everything seems so rushed.

As if Coryo has to have you. Has to stake his claim on you.

Well, he does have a primal need to possess you; to own you, but you don't need to know that.

No…

All you need to know is that your boyfriend loves you; wants to show you how much by fucking your brains out and taking your virginity.

“Coryo, is this gonna hurt? I've heard it hurts the girl for the first time.” You ask, looking up into icy blue eyes with apprehension in yours; killing the mood for dirty talk.

Seeing you worried about him hurting you was like a dagger to Coriolanus' heart. He'd never hurt you (not intentionally that is) and he really wants you to enjoy sex. He doesn't want you shying away from it. Hell, he wants you to be comfortable with him fucking you 7 ways til Sunday.

Coryo stopped stroking his cock, only to take your wrists in his hands and place them on his shoulders, all the while giving you assurances of, “Y/N, baby, I won't hurt you. I know I'm big, but I prepped you; your wet enough so I'll just slide on in.”

Nodding, you ask, “Can you go slow?”

“Yea. I'll go slow, baby.” Coryo promised with a kiss before teasingly sliding his cockhead up and down your folds; bumping your clit once or twice too. Lining himself up with your tight hole, he said, “Just hold onto me and try not to be too loud. Yea?”

“Okay.” You nod with a timid smile, hands resting on his shoulders, as he holds onto your hip with his free hand.

Coryo pressed a lingering kiss to your lips before pushing his cock into your tight cunt. The feeling of his tip entering you and stretching you out for the first time stung. But it also felt good in a way that you couldn't describe. Your wet hole greedily sucked in his length as he slowly pushed into you.

Damn, does Coriolanus think that your tight cunt feels good around his cock. He wants nothing more than to just snap his hips and bottom out deep inside of your tight, wet canal, but he was holding back- barely- because you asked him to go slow. He'll do anything for you, because he's obsessed to the point where he wants to ball and chain you to him forever.

You feel every vein and very ridge of his hard cock as Coryo continues to push into you. Your hold on his shoulders tighten as you feel his tip press against your barrier. Biting your bottom lip, you brave yourself for the pain of having your barrier broken. But that pain never comes.

No, you just feel a sharp prick; a burning sting, as your cherry's popped. You do let out a strangled whine as Coryo pushes the rest of the way in; bottoming out and causing a large bulge to become visible in your lower stomach.

“You're such a good girl, darling. Taking me so well.” Coryo praised, looking down at where you're joined. “Look, baby.” He instructed. Pressing a hand to the bulge in your stomach; causing you to let out a throaty mewl, he proudly boasted, “Look how deep I am, how I'm in your womb.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, eyes wide with shock, as you listened to your boyfriend and looked down.

True enough, his cock was deep inside of you. You could see it protruding from your lower belly. It shocked you, mostly since you didn't know it was possible for him to be buried so deep inside of you.

“Fuck…” Coryo swore, his baritone heavy and thick with need. “You're cunt's so tight; feels so damn good around my cock.”

He tilted your chin up slightly, only to bend down and give you a kiss. A kiss that was fiery; full of passion and teeth. Pulling away, he grabbed a hold of your leg and hiked it up over his hip, only to slowly drag his cock out of your tight hole and push it back in again- starting the first movements of your fucking.

Coryo's pace was measured, but his thrusts were deep. With every move that he made, you're feeling pleasure start to bubble up inside of you. At some point, in an attempt to get him to go deeper, you hike up your other leg on his hip.

“Does my cock feel good pounding this pussy, baby? Hmm?” Coryo asked, grabbing a hold of your legs and folding them tightly into your chest. “Huh, baby? Am I fucking you good?” He asked, plunging in and out of you at a hard, fast pace.

Coryo knows, even if you don't, by the way your cunt’s twitching and clenching around his cock that you’re gonna be cumming soon. That your pussy’s fluttering cause she needs pounding; needs fucked hard and raw to drool and squirt out an orgasm.

“Yes, Coryo.” You nod, nails digging into his biceps as you feel your core ache with desire. “Yes, you're fucking me so good.”

“Your cunt's so greedy for my cock, baby.” He huskily told you. Leaning his head down, close to your ear, he whispers in a smug, but filthy tone, “Fuck, you're close again. I can feel that pussy clenching my cock, desperate to milk me dry.”

“Yea.” You desperately agree with him. Feeling the coil start to tighten in your lower belly, for the second time tonight, you plead, “Please, Coryo, make me cum again. Please.”

“Fuck, I love it when you beg for my cock like a wanton whore.” Coriolanus admitted, his tone hoarse with lust, as he looked down at you with undying desire in his blown pupils.

The only sounds in the room are your moans, the obscene sound of your wet squelching cunt, skin slapping against skin, and the creaking of your bed’s metal headboard banging against the wall as your boyfriend bends you like a pretzel. Coryo's pistoning in and out of your cunt so fast that his dog tags are starting to bounce between your chests; even smacking you in the face. Feeling bold, you grab his dog tags in your hand and pull him forward by them, only to lean up slightly and capture his lips in a needy kiss.

A kiss that you didn't even know you craved until you planted it on his lush lips.

Coriolanus let out a groan before hungrily kissing you back. Your kiss soon becomes a heated open mouth mess full of spittle trailing down your chins as he plows faster and faster into your cunt. Your lips trace over his, letting out a high pitch moan as you cum hard around his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, that's so hot.” Coryo moans at the sight of you squirting, soaking his dick, thighs, and the sheets.

Coriolanus has heard of squirting, but has never seen it before. And now that he knows you're a squirter, well he loves you even more than he did before.

“Coryo, please, it's too much.” You begged, starting to feel overstimulation kick in for such an intense orgasm during your first time.

Coryo’s eyes narrowed as he snarled, “I'm not stopping and getting blue balls, Y/N. Just be a good girl and take it til I cum.”

His reaction took you aback. You honestly wasn't expecting it. You really thought that he'd pull out after you told him that it's getting to be too much for you.

“Coryo, I can't take it. It's too much; I’m too sensitive.” You try to reason with him.

But one thing you'll quickly learn is that there's no reasoning with Coryo. And that's a lesson you're learning right now.

Coryo rolled his icy eyes at you and shook his head before pausing his movements and pulling out of you. You thought that it was over, that he'd take care of himself or maybe even have you touch him, but you're wrong about that.

So wrong.

Instead, Coriolanus grabs you and roughly flips you over onto your stomach. Confused, your try to lift yourself up and look at him over your shoulder. “Coryo-” You begin to ask, only to be roughly shoved down into the mattress face first.

“Don't whine, baby.” The platinum blonde peacekeeper gruffly instruction while pulling up your hips. “I told you, Y/N, that you'll just have to take what I give you cause I'm not fucking getting blue balls tonight.” He sneered while roughly entering your oversensitive pussy in one sharp thrust.

You let out a loud cry, one that Coryo's afraid will wake up the entire neighborhood full of scumbags and gutter rats; send them running over to the sorry excuse of a wooden shack you're in. Bending down, causing the cool metal of his dog tags to brush against your bare back, he hisses right into your ear, “Shut up, bitch. We don't wanna get caught, now do we?”

Coryo didn't bother to straighten up his back. No, he just began pounding into you rough, hard, and fast. His cock was throbbing and he needed to cum. Badly. Right now he was pissed that you tried to push him off of you before he got the chance to shoot his load into your perfect, tight cunt and knock you up.

Hell, he knows you're a virgin, but he wasn't expecting you to get all whiny and panicky at overstimulation. Gods, he hopes you learn your lesson tonight when it comes to his dominance in bed- well while fucking in general cause he knows it's not going to be contained to just the bedroom.

You sobbed into your pillow, hair fanning you like a halo, and hands twisting into your sheets as Coryo pistons in and out of you at a brutal pace. You feel the tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every move he makes along with his cum heavy balls slapping against your puffy, swollen clit, making your cunt burn and ache.

“For whining about not being able to take it, your greedy lil tight cunt's clenching around my cock again.” Your boyfriend mockingky grunts in your ear, his fingers digging painfully into your hips. No doubt you'll have bruises marring them in the morning.

“Coryo…please…please…” You cried desperately into your pillow. Honestly, you're not even sure what you're begging for. Maybe some kind of relief from the intense pressure you're feeling? Yes, that has to be it.

You need relief from what you're currently feeling. The intense push-pull inside of you; the electricity coursing thru your core.

“Shut the fuck up. Damn, bitch, you want your brother to bust in here and pull me off ya ‘fore we both cum?” Coryo sneered, his deep timbre rough, heavy, and dripping with sin.

Fearing that you'd get him caught, since he had no idea if your family's home or not, he pulled you up by the nap of your neck and ordered in a whisper hiss, “Hold onto the headboard, now.”

You did as you're told, stretching your arms out and grabbing the metal rails of your headboard. Before you could even register what was going on, one of Coryo's large, calloused hands wrapped around one of yours while his other hand roughly covered your mouth- literally smothering you.

Your eyes are wide at the new position you find yourself in. Your mind’s overloaded by everything as Coryo picks up his fast, punishing pace pounding your pussy.

Everytime you try to whine or moan, your boyfriend clamps his hand down hard, muffling your cries and causing your jaw to ache. Your body's being jolted back and forth rapidly by Coryo's fast paced movements. Oh God, if you weren't bracing yourself by holding onto your bed frame your head would've been driven thru the thin wooden wall by now.

The cool metal of his dog tags dangles against your back as Coryo hunches over you, possessing your body for his pleasure. He's plowing roughly into you from behind, working both of you up to your orgasms.

He's panting and sweat’s beading his brow as he grits out, “I'm gonna cum, baby.” Feeling your cunt clamping and clenching around his cock, he orders, "You better cum too.”

One, two, three more rough thrusts and Coryo's biting into the crook of your neck, causing you to cry out a strangled sob as your final orgasm of the night hits you hard. His hand falls from your mouth and slips down to lightly squeeze your throat, as he shoots thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

Instead of pulling out, he languidly snaps his hips; lazily fucking his seed into your womb.

“Shit, baby, think I just knocked you up?” He asks while gently strumming his thumb against the side of your throat while still keeping a loose grip around it. “You're gonna look so sexy, full and swollen with my baby.”

What the hell? He wants a baby?! Oh boy…Oh no…Oh boy…You weren't expecting to hear that. Suddenly you feel like you're sinking, that everything’s too much and you can't keep yourself afloat. Tears start to spill down your cheeks since you feel overwhelmed by everything.

Coryo stops his lazy movements and lets his now softening cock (which is still big) slip out of your abused hole. He smugly smirks as he watches a slight trickle of red tinted cum slowly falling from your cunt. His chest burns with pride as he sees the red smears on your thighs and his cock- the proof that he took your innocence. That you belong to him and only him from this moment forward.

Coriolanus realized that he pushed you too hard for your first time as he watched your body shaking with sobs. Sighing, he pries your hands off of your headboard and positions the two of you to lay on your bed under the thin blanket, your body tucked into his with your head resting on his chest.

“I know, baby. I know, it was a bit intense, but don't cry.” Coryo told you, wiping your tears away with the rough pad of this thumb. Rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back, he lovingly cooed, “You did such a good job taking what I gave, baby girl.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he did some damage control with a half-hearted apology of, “I'm sorry I pushed you so hard, Y/N. I just love you so much; got caught in the moment.” Softly stroking your cheek, he assured you, “I'll never do anything to purposely hurt you, my darling rose. I've just never been with a virgin before; forgot that you needed a softer touch once things got heated.”

You just nod your head and let Coryo calm you down; lull you into a dreamless sleep wrapped up in his arms.

Your brother, Rein, passed out a few feet from the door as soon as he stumbled into the house. He was so drunk on moonshine that it's a miracle he even made it home before passing out on the street. Which he's done a handful of times before.

Ashlie on the other hand was as sober as a judge and made her way to the bedroom she shares with your brother just fine. Only problem is that her bed’s pressed up against the wall that separates your bedrooms. Hell, your bed and her bed are actually against the same wall.

So, while your brother, Rein, was passed out on the floor snoring in a pile of his own drool (and most likely puke) his girlfriend, Ashlie, was stuck lying awake in bed listening to your platinum blonde peacekeeper boyfriend roughly fuck you and degrade you. It made the barmaid uncomfortable; made her feel bad for you. She feels like you deserve someone better than a peacekeeper that just views you as an easy piece of ass. So, she knows that tomorrow morning she needs to confront you about Coryo; make you a cup of bitter herb tea too- cause gods forbid you fall pregnant with Private Snow's bastard.

Except there's just one problem with Ashlie's assumption. Private Coriolanus Snow doesn't view you as an easy piece of ass; instead he views you as his soulmate. As the future mother of his children; the beautiful girl that he's going to marry and make his First Lady Snow.

To Coryo you're his girl and nothing's going to change that. Now that he's popped your cherry he's never letting you go. The devil himself couldn't tear the two of you apart.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @preteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[klodwig]

"Because all of this is bullshit!" Hux said. "All I... believed in is... bullshit."  

He sat on the floor. Silly little Christmas elf. Ginger one. Pretty... cute in Kylo's opinion.

 "What is?" 

" Naughty. Children. Shouldn’t. Get. Gifts."  

"It's obvious," said Kylo carefully. 

"NO!" 

He never thought that in one little elf there can be so much anger and wrath.  

"No! Here is... not so little boy, who kil- murdered the cat of one poor old woman who lives nearby. Is he naughty?" 

 "Sure." 

"But "we cant leave him without gifts, 'cause his father is a merchant and it's gonna be strange if he'll got nothing!" Do you hear that?!"  

Hux smiled, wide and creepy.  

"But you know, who really will have nothing in this year? Grandson of this old woman. He must come home not later than at nine every day, but in that evening he reeled on the streets with lantern till midnight and called for that poor cat. And... voila. He is in naughty list, because he was late home. And I... was demoted for questions. So... if you want to eat me - well. Go ahead."  

He closed his eyes as if he really waited that Kylo will eat him right now, but Krampus only laughed.

"Pf. You think, I'll eat old and bony elf when I can have tasty little murderer? Isn't it stupid?" 

*** 

"I took those candies from beneath the Christmas tree. He won’t need them anymore." 

Kylo looked  full and satisfied. Hux was afraid that he will smell blood, but around Kylo there was nothing new - he could only smell coal and maybe a little bit ofsugar. 

"You can give it to another tasteless child, if you want".

[valentine-cafe]

Lisse, the blood thirsty countess

[Afab reader]

With the prompt "please don't be afraid of me" pretty please!?!?:D

-🍄

˖⁺. ﹙ vampire countess  x gn reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . run, run !! 🍒 :  vampire countess character﹙ vamp au lisse. ﹚

you run into the infamous queen carmine - and yet she's begging you not to be afraid of hr 

she stood there, about 6 to 7 feet or so away from you. bloodied, and covered in the guts of your companions. you were just a merchant, travelling through kingdoms to get to the other and sell your goods. but none could have prepared you for the hurricane that had slowed your path.

it had been days you had been out. and you were starving.

but there was another creature of the night stalking from whence you came. a vampire, with more hunger than you could have ever imagined.

she had come to your camp in the middle of the night, while all of you were dead asleep.

in her mind, she told herself all of you would have starved to death anyways. after so many days of wear and tear. . . no food, no shelter. . . she felt bad for you — it would be impossible to get to the kingdom you were headed for at this pace.

and yet, she watched as you opened your eyes, after tearing through your companions and making it quick and as painless as possible while drinking them dry.

the light footsteps that neared had woken you, along with the sound of slurping.

you were no stranger to vampires, but you were no hunter. all you had ever been taught was to let them handle it, and they had been gone way before midnight had dawned.

of course the vampire would have taken them out first. ..

“no—” she gasps and stumbles back, teeth gritting in panic. while you sit up and sluggishly attempt to crawl away in your own half-awake state of fear.

“please don’t-” you beg of her.

“no, nono, don’t be scared of me— please don’t be scared of me.” her hands would wave frantically as she’d come closer to you. the moonlight illuminating the ethereal and almost phantasmagoric beauty of her, you’d never seen anyone as beautiful as her before. and yet, you felt compelled to keep moving away as she neared.

a natural instinct, of course. your friends had all been slaughtered.

“you will kill me- you killed them!” the scream sets her off in an even worse panic, and her hand claps down against your mouth, while she looks you deep in the eyes.

“i don’t do it because i like it!!!” she screams at you, before blinking a bit. taking in deep breaths while slumping.

“please don’t be scared of me. i can help you.”

[fourstarsoutofnine]

(not sure if this was requested already-) but would you make headcanons on how the chain would react if reader was having a mental breakdown? Ive been really stressed with socializing and work so if you could tysm!! (Also love your work ! 💗💗)

A lot little self indulgent as I’m trying to convince my body I’m NOT having a panic attack. Sorry this took so long to get to.

No beta we die like men, auto correct sucks

Part one.

Five am and you’re still awake. You’d been pretending to sleep since midnight. Listening to shift change after shift change of the links, each getting up and the other laying down to sleep. Finally you just couldn’t take it anymore. Your thoughts had spiraled and tears finally welled in your eyes. You sat up, your breathing sporadic as you put your hands on your head and fanned your face. The Link on shift turned to you.

Time:

“Are you alright?” The old man asked. You shook your head and he stood, walking over to you.

“Want to talk about it.” He asked and you shook your head again. He nodded in acknowledgment and sat beside you. “Breathe in through your nose slowly, and out your mouth. Focus on how your body feels right now. Take note of any aches and pains, anywhere you’re holding tension and let that tension go.”

As you thought about your breathing, and each release of tension in your body and note of pain, your mind was taken off of whatever was plaguing you and put on a task.

“I hear a brook nearby. Remind me in the morning that we need to go. The boys need baths and we could use the break.”

You nodded in agreement, sniffling.

“Tell me. What’s the most interesting thing that’s happened to you while with us?” You hadn’t been traveling with them for very long. A few months, at the most—but you’d seen a lot. You thought back to one of your very first adventures. You’d been dropped into Wild’s hyrule. You huffed a laugh and started talking about how a bladed rhino beetle landed on your head one afternoon and Beetle, the merchant, nearly screamed in excitement and scared it away. Before you knew it, you’d calmed down, and the old man’s tactics were successful.

Sky:

“Oh dear Hylia…” Sky stood and walked over beside you. “Would you like a hug or like to be left untouched?”

You all but flung yourself into his arms. He held you tight and secure, chin resting on your head. He rocked back and forth silently and you closed your eyes, getting lost in the motion and the relief it gave you. He patted your back rhythmically and fluidly, which eased you further. If he kept this up, maybe you could fall asleep.

“Rest… your mind isn’t at its best without sleep… I’ll stay here for you…” he said softly and hummed a tune that lulled you off in tandem with his rocking and patting.

Twilight:

The rancher said nothing as he stood and came to your side. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, offering you water from his canteen.

“Here. Drink.”

As you sipped from it, he held the crystal around his neck and transformed down into Wolfie. He nestle his way between you, pushing your legs down from where you’d been hugging them. He laid across your legs firmly, the weight a welcome, comforting pressure. You pet his head and he let out a groan and a sneeze-like huff through his nose, leaning up to lick your palm, trying to be comforting in the only way he knew how. Dogs were comforting. He could be a dog. If that’s what you needed, that’s what he’d do.

[justpoliteconversations]

Masterlist

It's slowly growing. Best to organize the trash heap before it becomes a hoarding situation.

::FANART::

Wind + War's Scarf

::LINKED UNIVERSE::

Chain

Midnight Impulses [Chain + Healer!Reader]

Comfort [Yandere!Chain + Isekai!Reader]

Small Problems [Chain + Reader]

Glory Bound [Chain + Mercenary!Reader]

Human Things [Short Skit + Reader]

Morning Grind [Chain + Reader]

Sky

To Keep [Yandere!Sky x Isekai!Reader]

Time

Missed Communication [Time x Isekai!OC x Malon]

Graveyard Waltz [Deity!Reader + Fallen!Time]

Twilight

Favor [Twilight x Reader]

Four

By Omission

Gifts

Trust [Four + Veteran!Reader]

To Obtain [Yandere!Four x Isekai!Reader]

Soft Morning [Husband!Four x Reader]

Legend

Breakdown [Isekai!Reader + Legend/Marin]

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Of A Feather [Legend x Winged!Reader]

Hyrule

The Pinks

Fool's Bet

Warriors

The Negotiator [Reader + Mer!Warriors]

Comfort [Mer!Warriors + Reader]

Wind

Cuddles [Wind + Mother Figure]

Cuddles [Wind + Father Figure]

Misc

Olive Tree Sonnet [Warriors + Juniper (OC)]

Running Circles [Reader + ???!Link]

:: BREATH OF THE WILD::

Apple Merchant [Link x Isekai!Reader]

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

AM Alternate Extras: Embrace

Fall Birds [Link + Reader]

Harvest Season [Reader + Link]

:: Twilight Princess ::

Unsung Hero [Link + Veterinarian!Reader]

:: Hyrule Warriors ::

Lavender Armor [Servant!Reader + Link]

[yuesya]

“Please.”

Imunlaukr kneels and presses his head to the ground, prostrating himself before the god in front of him in desperate entreaty.

“State your purpose.” The one who responds is not the god upon the throne, but instead the armor-clad knight who stands at their side. “Traveler from afar, who has done the people of Mondstadt a great service by rescuing our merchants and traders who fell captive to the jaws of beasts –you are granted an audience with the Great Hunter, but do not mistake that as a favor promised to you from our Lord.”

Imunlaukr’s heart stutters, before he forcibly grits his teeth and mentally chants to himself Calm down, calm down. The knight who’d spoken out to him had not done so out of ill will, but as a tacit warning for him to gather his composure. Imunlaukr was standing before a god right now –and gods could be capricious, unfathomable creatures.

Decarabian was said to be benevolent towards humans, but that still did not leave any room for disrespect. Particularly when the human in question wasn’t even one of theirs, but instead a mere traveler from another land instead.

Imunlaukr needs to tread carefully.

“… I apologize,” he says quietly. This is your last chance, there’s no more time. You have to–! “My name is Imunlaukr, and I hail from the neighboring kingdom of Sal Vindagnyr.”

There is a sharp intake of breath from the knight at the mention of Sal Vindagnyr, but the god remains silent. Imunlaukr clenches his fingers, and forces himself to continue.

“Ever since the Divine Nail from the heavens descended upon the kingdom, Sal Vindagnyr has been plunged into eternal winter,” the young traveler keeps his head lowered deferentially. “I departed in search of a solution to the kingdom’s plight. If there is anything that the Great Hunter might know of, or any method at all through which assistance might be granted, please, I… lay myself, and the people of Sal Vindagnyr, upon your mercy.”

Of all the lands that Imunlaukr has traveled, and all the divine entities that he had been able to entreat for help… none granted him a solution to the dire situation that the kingdom faced.

It is beyond my abilities to grant assistance.

You seek to overturn the judgment of Celestia?

It is impossible. Accept your fate, mortal, for it has already been ordained by the heavens.

“Lift your head.”

The voice is indistinct; the echo of a thousand whispers carried on the wind. Imunlaukr reflexively obeys and looks upwards–

Pale skin, and midnight-dark hair spilling down to their ankles. The god’s form is that of an androgynous youth, with features that look to be carved from marble.

But the most noteworthy feature about them isn’t their inhuman beauty, but instead their eyes. Deep blue eyes that arrest one’s attention the way the yawning void does, with faint pinpricks of red-violet light that glow faintly in the impenetrable dark.

“I have no reason to leave this land,” the god says. “I–”

A sudden gust of wind blows in through the open window, obscuring the rest of the god’s words. For a long moment, the god does not say anything further, merely staring silently in a single direction–

And with a small start, Imunlaukr realizes that, oddly enough, the Great Hunter does not sit upon their throne. They are perched sideways upon the ornate armrest, with the upper half of their body leaning against the backrest –and the seat itself is empty. And it’s that very empty seat of the throne that the Great Hunter stares at silently, unmoving.

“… I suppose I could make an exception.”

[itsabardknocklife]

Things the Baldur's Gate Fandom Needs To Know About Mystra

The current Mystra is the third Mother of Magic and she was originally a mortal human woman named Ariel Manx.

Ariel was the second daughter of a wealthy merchant and she liked to sneak out at night to go partying in the clubs.

While out clubbing one night, Ariel - known as Midnight among her friends - met a conjurer named Tad who introduced her to magic and brought her to Mystra's temples.

When Ariel was 21, she attracted Mystra's attention and began to feel as though she were being watched. Whenever this happened, she found that her ability to cast spells increased and that spells that she once found difficult were much easier.

In 1358, when Ariel was 26, the ALL gods were cast out onto the Material Plane by Ao because Bane and Myrkul were being little shits and making yet another power grab, like they do.

The Original Mystra was extremely Unhappy about being thrown out of the heavens and tried to march back up the Celestial Stairway to reclaim her place of power.

Ao did not take kindly to this, and promptly had Helm kick her ass.

Unfortunately, Mystra dying is Bad For The Weave, and Ao had to replace her.

He picked Ariel.

When she was 26.

Immediately after she kicked Myrkul's bony ass in a duel that took place in the sky over Waterdeep.

In order to make the transition easier, Ariel took up the name of Mystra so that

27 years later, Cyric and Shar conspired to kill her so that Shar could take over as the Mother of Magic and spread her Shadow Weave over the land.

Instead of granting Shar control of the Weave the way she hoped, the new Mystra's death/disappearance caused the Weave to collapse, taking the Shadow Weave with it and kicking off what is known as the Spellplague.

Unlike the last two times Mystra was killed, everything went kind of nuts. Magic faded, blue fire raged across the land, killing everything it touched and then raising them into ghouls, the landscape became warped, it was Bad.

The only good thing to come out of the Spellplague was the Dragonborn, who were released from thousands of years of enslavement as a result of the blue fire blowing everything to shit. Hooray for the dragonborn!

Anyway.

Over the next hundred years, things calmed down and the magic… sort of returned, but there were a lot of changes to how magic worked. The Mother of Magic was a non-entity, her presence unfelt even by the famed Elminster of Shadowdale.

At least, not until 1479, when he found her possessing a bear and guarding a hoard of magic items she'd stashed while mortal.

She sent him out to go find new candidates to become her Chosen, and he came back a few weeks later after gorging on the magic of a few of Mystra's other Chosen and gave her enough juice to "return."

Three years later, the Second Sundering started when Bhaal's last two descendants fight to the death and resurrect him as a result.

At this point, ALL the gods are out there recruiting people to become their Chosen right, left, and center. It's a race to become the strongest god in the pantheon, with the winners being decided based on who has the most followers.

This goes on for five years, with the Second Sundering coming to a close in 1487. This was when Mystra became fully restored as a Goddess, with the Weave returning to its original strength.

Over the next two years, MOST of the gods drop their Chosen like they're hot and go quiet, resulting in the rise of clerics as mortals struggled to understand why the gods' behaviors changed so drastically from before.

Mystra was actually one of the few who kept in contact with her Chosen while a few others (such as Ellistraee and the Dead Three) chose to remain on Toril in Avatar form.

In the year 1491, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep finds the Netherese Orb and has his silver flame (the mark of Mystra's chosen) consumed by it.

12 years after Mystra - once the mortal woman known as Ariel Manx - recovered from her near-death experience.

Please, I am begging you. Stop portraying Mystra the Ultimate Evil and Gale as her Innocent Victim. Their whole relationship is so much more complex than that. Mystra put so much trust in Gale and simply asked that he not cross her boundaries in return, and Gale, in his own words, "sought to cross [those] boundaries." He's a man who heard no and decided that he wasn't going to stop trying until that no became a yes.

I'm not saying Gale is the villain in this, but I am saying that both Gale and Mystra are complex individuals who are both flawed in different ways, and reducing them down to Good and Bad is doing them a disservice.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Ace Succubus

John Wiswell: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the asexual succubus Wiswell: it's about a succubus who's different from the stereotypical succubus Wiswell: it makes you think about what if you were an individual in a society

Wiswell: so this succubus, you see, is ace Barker: oh come the fuck on Barker: come on!!! Barker: you can't have an asexual succubus! Barker: how would that even work?! Wiswell: well, CLIVE Wiswell: i'm about to explain that

Wiswell: this ace succubus expresses love in other ways Wiswell: like holding hands Wiswell: or parallel play Wiswell: that's when you sit next to each other on the couch playing stardew valley on the krobus the monster merchant roommate route Barker: what

Bram Stoker: interesting! i, for one, am glad to finally hear a succubus story without all that sex Barker: you can't just have an asexual succubus! Barker: that's like having a straight vampire! Stoker: Stoker: NOW SEE HERE YOU LITTLE-!!

Stoker: vampires aren't gay, how dare you!? Anne Rice: um yeah of course vampires are gay Stoker: no they're not! Rice: yes they are! Barker: fight! fight! fight! Poe: stop it! stop it! everyone, settle down! Mary Shelley: [flipping switchblade] finally, some action!

Poe: mary! who's side are you even on in this fight? Shelley: [stabbing Stoker] the winning side! Shelley: [stabbing Rice] as always Poe: Poe: yeah i guess that's usually try Shelley: [stabbing Poe] ALWAYS true Shelley: [stabbing Barker] try and stop me, nerds!

Barker: this is ridiculous, how can you have a succubus who's not horny?? Barker: i am offended by the very idea! King: actually, my boy joe dropped the take of the century on me earlier, he said that some aces actually DO get horny Barker: i am not getting into a discourse steve

Barker: how am i even supposed to get horny for this story about a succubus NOT having sex?! Wiswell: i have another story about a succubus turning into a couch Barker: how am i supposed to get horny for a couch!? Barker: who am i, JD vance!? [rim shot]

[auroravictorium]

vigilante shit (k.b.)

Summary: set nearly two years before the events of midnights, reader is fighting for survival in ketterdam after escaping her indenture contract before it can be stamped. after a confrontation with a few merchants, a certain bastard of the barrel arrives and offers her a deal that may ensure her survival in the city.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker x reader (eventually) Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: violence (stabbing, bludgeoning, shoving, reader killing four people), blood, injuries (dislocated shoulder, stab wounds, cuts, gashes, etc.), numerous mentions of indentured servitude (reader escaping this, exploitation of indentures in the city, etc.) Genre: action and lil angst Author's Note: rue publishing a new part just a few days after the last one?? who IS she?? anyway, here is reader's backstory + how she and kaz met :)) this will be important for the next part (back in the present) because it'll be mentioned, so i'm choosing to share this one first for lore purposes

masterlist

Summer in Ketterdam was unbearable. The near-constant cloud cover trapped the heat low, threatening to make residents collapse as they made their daily commutes and errands. Bright costumes of the West Stave stuck to the skin of their wearers. Good-for-nothing bureaucrats dabbed at their foreheads and pulled at their collars, trying desperately to find relief from the heat. Even gangsters had halted their usual brawls in the streets, preferring to drink themselves into a stupor until dusk arrived or avail themselves of whatever cool water could be found.

As the government ceased its already pitiful operations due to the heat, and gangsters took the day off, the city lapsed into a sleepy state. You took advantage of the sluggishness, ducking through the streets of the Financial District and nimbly swiping what you could as you went. Wallets, loose jewelry, colorful kruge poking out of pockets. Everyone was too hot to notice the thief among them, and those who did a few moments later didn't bother to give chase.

Finally, you heard a bell chime seventeen times in the distance. The Exchange was closed for the day, and merchants would be making their way home with bulging wallets and smug faces. Perfect.

You headed north, disappearing into the crowds of merchants and regular citizens alike and searching for wide eyes or furrowed brows, darting glances, and those who kept to themselves. New merchants, unaware of the dangers of being near the Exchange after it closed. 

A few merchants trailed toward the Geldstraat, packets of papers in their hands with thick red seals at the top that you would recognize anywhere—indenture paperwork. From the looks of it, each man held a dozen fresh indentures in his hands, ready to be stamped to confirm the transfer of a human being from one bastard’s hands to the next.

Yet, moving in the opposite direction, a lone merchant with a poorly-tailored coat and bulging pockets filled with colorful kruge that needed to be deposited.

Freedom, or the funds that could make a difference in whether you made it to the end of the week.

If you were wise but heartless, you'd chase the lone man and tackle him once he was out of sight of the Exchange. Ketterdam had a way of ripping the soul from a person, making them make the worst decisions for survival.

But you'd almost been one of those indentures, had your name on one of those papers that almost got stamped. You'd been just blocks from the courthouse, huddled in a clunky carriage with five other women when you'd gotten the courage to stab the driver through the small window with the sharpened edge of a piece of cutlery you'd swiped.

One moment, you'd been stuck in that carriage, passing over a cobbled bridge. The next, you had those bloodstained papers in your hand, snatched from the inside of the driver’s coat pocket, and were running. You ran until you felt your lungs would give out, until you were sure the dots in your vision would turn to full-blown darkness and you’d collapse right there in the street amongst garbage and empty bottles.

But you'd made it. You'd disappeared into the Barrel, tossed the papers in a rubbish bin, and lit it on fire. Partially an act of self-preservation, partially an act of helping the indentures who'd scrambled out of the carriage after you. Had they made it? You didn't know. You hoped so. 

Thinking of the women who’d been taken into Ketterdam with you made something spark in your chest. Swearing under your breath, you wove through crowds of merchants and market prodigies and started to trail the group of merchants heading toward the Geldstraat. Conversations of auctions, trade deals, and under-the-counter offers flowed in one ear and out the other. At any other time, those conversations would catch your interest; but you’d set your mind to something, could feel an urgency running beneath your skin like electricity, and the words passed in and out of your ears without sticking.

These damned merchants walked fast, even in the heat, and you soon made your way onto the packed Geldstraat. Glancing around for an opportunity to gain some leverage–a rooftop would be nice, or a distraction–you found none. This was the part of the city reserved for the wealthy; clean and filled with well-dressed residents who eyed you as you passed by in your loose-fitting tunic and well-worn trousers. Your boots were in an even worse condition, and you felt the ridges and dips in the cobblestones beneath your feet as you tried your best to look inconspicuous.

The Government District was fast approaching as you headed north, and your time to swipe these papers was running out. Fuck it.

As the mouth of the Geldstraat opened up to let people pour into the Government District, you made your move, darting forward and to the right of one of the merchants; as you passed, you yanked hard on his pocketwatch, pulling it from his pocket with enough force that he definitely noticed. “Oy!” he shouted, reaching for you in an attempt to apprehend you, or maybe grab the pocketwatch dangling from your hand. “Thief!”

You skirted to the side, high-tailing it back toward an alleyway you’d passed not thirty seconds ago. There’d been something metallic on the ground–a piece of pipe, you hoped–that caught what little sun came through the clouds and reflected it.

Boots pounded against the ground behind you, sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, enough to stave off the sluggishness of your muscles from the heat. Come get me, you son of a bitch, you thought, your legs burning as you skidded into the alleyway and scooped the object you’d seen from the ground: a rusty, jagged piece of drainpipe that had fallen from the edge of one of the roofs. It was perfect, especially since you had yet to acquire a better weapon than the flimsy dagger strapped to your hip and wanted to keep these bastards as far away from you–an eligible person to be indentured if they got their hands on you, as far as they were concerned–as possible.

You barely had enough time to survey it to decide which end would be better for bludgeoning before the sound of pounding boots caught up to you, and you adjusted your sweaty grip on the metal and faced the mouth of the alley as four tall shadows blocked it.

The merchants were bigger than they looked when you’d trailed them, and you recognized their clothing as being Fjerdan, rough material that did little to keep them cool in this heat. Oh, fantastic. Leave it to me to pick a fight with some wannabe Druskelle.

But their height gave you an advantage, one you’d quickly learned to utilize in the few months you’d been on the streets: being taller made them slower. And, judging from the lack of bulges at their waists and ankles, they were unarmed. 

Tall and dumb; your day was starting to look up.

The merchant you’d robbed stuffed his papers into his coat pocket. “I believe you have something that belongs to me,” he said, his accent thick as he spoke. His eyes fell to the pipe in your hand, then the pocketwatch dangling out of your pocket. “If you hand it back now, I’ll reconsider how much I rough you up.”

“You should have armed yourself before making threats you won’t be able to follow through on,” you shot back. Your voice was remarkably steady, even as you were realizing there was a good chance at least one of them would land a strike on you while you were trying to get their papers. You wouldn’t be walking out of this uninjured, but when had you ever escaped a fight without scrapes and bruises? Such was the nature of the city. It took, and it took, and it took until its people had nothing left to give aside from their bones.

And this cause had settled itself on your shoulders like a weight you couldn’t shake. So let Ketterdam have your bones, but only after you wiped these bastards out first.

The merchant lunged, and you swung the pipe. The weight was unnatural in your hand, and you couldn’t get a good grip on it; but the pipe landed true, smashing into the merchant’s skull with a sickening crack as the other three rushed toward you. One of them took a detour, catching his comrade as he crumpled to the filthy ground, while the other two went straight for you. 

You swung the pipe like a bat, bashing it into one’s stomach and making him hunch over before whirling to land a hit on the other. You didn’t have enough momentum to do lethal damage, but the very edge of the pipe made a long cut across your new foe’s face. Redness bloomed on the skin, and blood seeped down; his progress was slowed, but not stopped.

He shoved you back against a brick wall, and the impact knocked the breath from your lungs. Son of a– Your muscles burned as you gasped, pain rocketing up and down your spine, and your grip on the pipe almost loosened.

Almost.

The man tried to wrench it from your grasp, taking advantage of your breathlessness, but you kept ahold of it. “Give it,” he growled, yanking the pipe hard enough to make your shoulder pop as you fought to keep possession of it. Pain shot up and down your arm, and you were forced to release the pipe as your shoulder popped out of place.

You swore in pain, tears pricking your eyes and your good hand dropping to your belt and unsheathing your dagger before twisting it in your hand and jabbing it as hard as you could toward the man’s chest while he grabbed at the pipe. It drove home, embedding in an upward angle beneath his ribcage; it wasn’t perfect, and you were sure it wasn’t a lethal blow, but it caused the man to stagger back and drop to his knees. You ripped the blade from his chest and the pipe from his hand, pausing only to stomp your foot down over the wound hard enough for a few ribs to crack.

He cried out in anger, writhing against the ground, but you didn’t have time to savor the noise before another merchant was on you, the one you’d bashed in the stomach with the pipe.

With the dagger in your good hand and the pipe in your limp one, you dodged his attempt to punch you. The heat pressed down on you, and sweat soaked through your clothing as you and the merchant circled each other around his comrade on the ground. The one you’d initially hit was still being worked on by his companion; apparently, the pipe had done more damage than you’d thought, which filled you with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

The last merchant standing launched himself at you, and you dodged, slamming your injured shoulder against the opposite wall with a hard enough impact that something crunched. The pipe dropped from your hand again, and you were forced to let it fall for good. Leaning to grab it would be a death sentence.

Well…

You ducked slightly, letting the merchant think you’d gone for the pipe, only to twist at the last moment and slash the dagger across his chest in a wide arc. Blood bloomed beneath his beige tunic, and you slashed again as he stumbled in pain. More blood splattered, sliding down the blade of your knife and onto the handle, making your hand slick with red. It was warm, unpleasantly so, and your stomach twisted with nausea.

No matter how long you were in the city, you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to the feeling of someone else’s blood on your skin.

The merchant cried out as you drove the knife through his throat, cutting the noise off with a nauseating gurgle. He slumped to the ground, nearly falling onto you, and you stumbled out of the way to avoid it. A hand grabbed at your ankle, and you toppled onto the merchant you’d stabbed earlier.

Grunting, you pushed yourself away, skin scraping against gravel and glass shards on the alleyway ground, and grabbed your blade, driving it down into his chest one more time. Without your bad arm, you couldn’t hold yourself steady. Or maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off that caused the trembles. You weren’t sure. Either way, you managed to gasp out, “For them,” before staggering to your feet once more to handle the final merchant who was tending to the now-dead man you’d robbed.

“The indentures,” you rasped as you approached, your knees shaking as pain took hold. It was getting harder to stay upright, especially with the heat weighing you down and making the pain feel ten times worse. “Where are they?”

“I-I don’t–” the merchant began, his voice wobbling. 

“Shall I help you remember?”

Your boot made contact with the merchant’s face, and something crunched with the impact. His nose, judging by the way he toppled over and cupped his face. A sob passed his lips, but you didn’t stop your advance. 

“I won’t ask again,” you said, stopping over the man as he lay on the ground, nearly curled in a fetal position. Your heart raced in your ears, loud enough to almost drown out the next words that left your mouth. “Where are they?”

“Warehouse district,” he sobbed, trembling as you stopped before him. “One of the big ones owned by one of the–one of the councilmen.”

That was all you needed to hear.

You could have left him alive. Could have let him scramble to his feet and leave the alleyway to report what had happened to one of the pigs that called themselves the Stadwatch, not that they’d do anything. Could have let him recuperate and return to the Exchange in a few days with too much pride to admit a girl on the streets had briefly held his life in his hands.

But you thought of those indentures, probably trafficked, waiting in the warehouse for news that their lives had been determined for them. You remembered the fear you’d felt after being captured and taken into the city with several other women your age, women whose fates were unknown after you’d been forced to leave them behind in a bid for survival. You remembered the desperation as you’d ground that piece of cutlery against the stone floor in your holding room, sharpening it into something that would free you.

You thought of them, and you dropped to your knees, driving the knife into his throat hard enough that you faced some resistance once the hilt met flesh. The man’s sobs went quiet. His body twitched, his eyes rolling for a moment before going still. His chance to live disappeared as quickly as that.

Though you longed to sit back, to collapse into the ground and catch your breath, you feared two things. One, you wouldn’t be able to get back up. Two, the Stadwatch would find you and have you hauled to jail. You’d managed to avoid it thus far, but today was not the day you wanted your luck to change. Not when you had a job to complete.

Numbly, you searched the men, one by one, until you collected all of the paperwork and kruge you could find from their bodies. Dozens of indenture contracts, a few hastily scribbled receipts from transactions at the Exchange, and a few notes recording debts to be paid. 

The contracts needed to be burned. The rest could be thrown away; let someone find them and wonder what happened to the bastards who’d written them.

As you collected your dagger and wiped it off on the tunic of the man you’d robbed, the hair on the back of your neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t from the heat, nor from your conscience being stirred into an upset at what you’d just done. No, someone was watching you. 

You turned your gaze to the rooftops, slowly turning on your heel as you searched for the source of that gaze. It wasn’t threatening; if it was, the person would have attacked. It was merely surveillance. Soon, you spotted a shadow pressed against a chimney, one that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps more obviously, the shadow moved, slinking closer to the edge of the roof before grabbing hold of the remaining pipe along the edge and swinging itself over as if on someone’s signal.

You stumbled back toward the mouth of the alley and raised your dagger, but the person made no move to attack. The figure was short and slim, and you saw wayward hairs peeking out from beneath their hood; a woman. Another person trying to survive on the streets? No, she was too well-dressed for that, with new-ish shoes, and clothes that fit with no visible tears or stains.

The woman didn’t approach, and you continued taking slow steps back, hoping to get out of the alley before the woman changed her mind and tried to stab you. I don’t think I can take down another person, you thought, least of all her, with at least five daggers strapped to her that you could see; you were willing to be that there were more.

There were soft footsteps near the mouth of the alleyway, followed by a tapping between each step, the sound of wood against the cobblestones. Your heartbeat picked right back up again, and you swiveled, pressing your back to the alley wall as another figure stepped into the mouth of the alleyway and blocked your escape.

The horrendous hat on his head made you think it was an officer with the Stadwatch, but the face beneath that hat was one of a boy no older than you. His skin was pale, drawn across angular cheekbones that cast sharp shadows down his face in the poor amount of sunlight filtering through the clouds. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you felt them; they pierced you with ease, scrutinized you, and evaluated everything from your messy hair to the blood soaked into your boots. They settled on the limpness of your arm for a moment, and you fought the urge to hide it behind your back.

“You’re a difficult person to track down, Y/N L/N,” the boy said, his voice raspy like sandpaper hissing across unfinished wood. His tone was devoid of humor. Instead, he spoke with a bluntness that told you this was merely business for him. A business that somehow involved him knowing your name.

You clamped your mouth shut, fighting the urge to ask how he knew your name. You were getting the sense that you didn’t want to know the source of that information, though you were willing to bet it was the woman standing just feet away from you. “Is that so?” you said instead, keeping your voice as steady as you could.

You were cornered, and you didn’t like that at all. Your skin itched with the urge to make a run for it, to shove this boy out of the way and bolt as far as your legs could take you. You’d done it before, had escaped from that carriage and gotten to this point. But this boy reeked of danger, of power, of a willingness to be cruel, if need be. He was not someone you wanted to make an enemy with.

The boy shifted his weight, twirling the head of the cane in his hand with a precision that told you he’d been using it for a while. That piercing gaze left you for a moment, and you assumed he was examining the damage you’d done to the four merchants in the alleyway. He was silent for a few long moments, then spoke again. “Aren’t you supposed to be serving one of the councilmen at his residence right now?”

Your blood turned to ice. He knew you were supposed to be an indenture. He knew you were not where you were supposed to be. He could turn you in, could get you taken back into custody for your paperwork to finally be stamped. Somewhere, there had to be a copy of your indenture paperwork. Just my luck.

“Come to collect me, have you?” Somewhere alongside your shock and terror was anger. Your knuckles tightened on the hilt of your dagger like you might throw it at the boy, and you saw the girl with the hood shift her fingers ever so slightly toward a dagger at her waist. Definitely allies.

“No.”

“So, you’ll let me leave the alley and go on my merry way after you finish making poorly disguised threats?”

“No.”

Throwing the dagger was looking more and more tempting if only you could ignore the fact that you’d also get a dagger to the chest if you did so. You were in enough pain as it was. “State your business, then,” you said, trying to keep your chin held high as you struggled to puzzle this out. This boy had power and allies, that was clear. But who was he, and why did you get the sense that you should know who he was?

“I’ve heard some of the chaos you’ve caused,” the boy said, tapping his cane against the ground a few times, almost impatiently. “A string of robberies on the outskirts of the Barrel, pickpocketing after the Exchange closes for the day, a few brawls here and there.”

“How can you possibly attribute those to me?” you said, though every word he’d spoken was true. The Barrel was rife with crime; nobody batted an eyelash at robberies anymore, and reporting them to the Stadwatch was useless. That was gang territory, and everyone knew it.

The boy tilted his head, ignoring your question. “Now, I’m curious why you’ve graduated to murder. These men are merchants?” He nudged a limp hand with his boot. “It’s quite a jump, petty crimes to killing.”

“You speak as if you know from experience.”

He ignored you again. “I have a deal for you, Y/N.”

“I don’t make deals with strangers, especially not those who particularly enjoy hearing themselves talk.” Your words were short and deadpan, but you noticed the hooded girl’s shoulders shake slightly with silent laughter. The prickling gaze that had been on you disappeared for a moment, likely to direct a glare at the girl, and it returned to you twice as sharp as before.

“Have you heard of the Dregs?” the boy asked, tapping his cane against the ground again as if this was all a tedious chore for him. You didn’t bother answering, because he proceeded on anyway. “We control a wide area of the Barrel, and the Dime Lions and a few smaller groups control the rest, which I’m sure you know since you’ve only robbed from disputed areas where you think nobody can catch you.”

“But you have caught me, and now you’re here to enact justice,” you said. Some mocking seeped into your voice before you could stop it, and the boy sighed in exasperation. If he was concerned about getting you to agree to whatever deal he had in store, he had to realize he wasn’t earning much approval from you.

“No. I see a use for you, and I want to capitalize on it.” The boy rolled his shoulders back and tightened his gloved fingers on the head of his cane. “In exchange, you’ll have a roof over your head and get paid for each job.”

Some of your desire to be sarcastic disappeared when he mentioned housing and wages. You couldn’t deny how tempting that was; to have a roof over your head instead of fabric wrapped around you when the rain came down would be bliss, and to have an income you could regularly count on? You’d feel like the wealthiest girl in Ketterdam, like getting taken to the city had been a good thing.

“What type of jobs?” you finally said, not wanting to agree so quickly. You refused to exchange one terrible contract for another. Ketterdam could make the worst situations appear like a blessing from the Saints themselves if you didn’t ask the right questions as to their nature. 

“Robberies, mostly. Tracking leads on opportunities for kruge. Working shifts at the Crow Club in between.” He tightened his grip on the head of his cane again as if he could tell that you were considering his offer. “At the very worst, you’ll be taking out those who threaten my business. Dime Lions, mainly, but you seem to be quite comfortable with the idea of murder.”

Dregs. Crow Club. My business.

Recognition struck you. You remembered hearing about a shift in power in the Dregs that happened just before you arrived in Ketterdam. The leader, Per Haskell, had been ousted by his lieutenant, a boy called Dirtyhands. Saints, what was his name? The whispers rarely mentioned it, as if he had ears everywhere and could strike at any moment. From the tales you’d heard, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could; they’d been enough to deter you from robbing anywhere in territory firmly controlled by the Dregs. He’d been right about that, just like everything else about you.

“How often do you personally recruit people to your cause, Kaz Brekker?” you said, unhitching yourself from the wall. Slowly, you held up your dagger before making a show of sliding it back into the sheathe at your waist. The hooded girl who’d been watching you and the boy size each other up relaxed, dropping her hand from the dagger she’d been prepared to grab.

Kaz Brekker’s lips quirked upward on one side, a half smile indicating he knew exactly what you’d just been thinking. “Only when they serve my interests,” he said. “Do we have a deal?”

“Only if it serves my interests,” you said, and you thought you saw the ghost of approval cross the parts of Brekker’s face that you could see. You grabbed the stack of indenture paperwork from where you’d propped it under your bad arm and held it up, showing the vivid red stamp to Brekker and his companion. “These people are being held in the Warehouse District, awaiting their indenture notice. I want them released.”

You expected a long silence to stretch between the two of you. It was a bold move for you to make a demand as part of your deal, especially since Brekker made it clear it was a rarity for him to bother recruiting people personally. But, to your surprise, Brekker nodded once.

“Alright,” he said. He held out his hand, and you took a few steps forward to pass the paperwork into his gloved fingers. He skimmed the pages briefly before tucking them into his black coat. “Did these men tell you which warehouse?”

You cast a glance toward the last one you’d killed, frowning slightly. “One owned by a councilman. He wasn’t more specific.” 

Brekker didn’t seem bothered by the limited information. Instead, he only nodded once toward the hooded girl who had observed all this. “Inej, see what you can find. I’ll escort our new recruit back to the Slat.”

Inej disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived, effortlessly climbing back up the wall and onto the rooftop before darting off without making a single sound. You watched her go, feeling awe burn in your chest as she disappeared without a trace. How long had it taken her to master that? Would she teach you, if you asked? She radiated such quiet power, and you wondered if the new mess you’d found yourself in would teach you just the same.

Kaz Brekker jerked his head back toward the alleyway entrance. “Let’s go. I don’t fancy having to deal with Stadwatch when they find the bodies.” He turned on his heel and strode off without another word, his cane tapping lightly against the ground as he went. He didn’t bother to wait for you or make sure you were following. 

Another chance to back out, to reconsider joining the Dregs and binding yourself to a gang known for its leader's brutality. But maybe… Maybe the Dregs could give you some leverage and a better chance of survival in the city. You would no longer be fighting for enough food to make it through the week, would no longer be considered on the run; you could wipe your past clean and destroy whatever copy of your indenture paperwork Brekker had found that could come back to bite you and start over. 

And the thought of starting over, of becoming someone new, was enough to make you follow after one of the most dangerous people in Ketterdam.

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