#this is self-indulgent but I hope you are able to enjoy it anyway <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[torusdove]

Med-student!Satoru who comes home late after spending the entire day cramming for his upcoming exam.

Don't get me wrong; he is insanely smart, and he doesn't need a lot of time to progress and understand the given material. He does, however, want to get to the bottom of things, understanding them beyond whatever the professor had taught them.

He took pleasure into understanding and getting down to a t about the different concepts. It's no surprise that he loves the complexity of neurology, neoplasia and the immune system.

However, something as simple as anatomy has had his heart ever since the beginning of his degree. Especially because it was something he could share with you.

—

"Nd this," he had whispered out, index finger softly pushing down on the little slope that was right between your collarbones, "this is what we call the manubrium. It's the first part of your sternum."

Satoru had learnt this in his first year, remembering the very few classes he had gotten about anatomy in the first quarter. How he had practiced on Suguru's chest to find the manubriosternal joint.

Now, he was trying to find it on you.

His finger trailed a little more downwards, just above the cleavage of your breasts, "then there is a thin line in between the first part, the manubrium, and the middle part, which we call the corpus of the sternum."

This wasn't the first time Satoru had laid in your sheets, hand resting in the palm of his hand, which he held up by leaning on his elbow in bed, half his body turned to you. You had loved it from the very first time he had started doing it. It felt intimate, and yet so meaningful.

Satoru chose your body to describe something he had an interest in, something he wanted to pursue a career in. He explained it in simple terms, making sure you could always follow along and understand what he was saying or illustrating.

"The thin line is known as the manubriosternal joint, an identification mark for doctors to find the second costa, which is latin for rib, as it is immediately attached to the manubriosternal joint." You could feel how his finger would move a little more tot the right, in search of your second rib. Once he could feel the bone underneath his fingertip, he smiled softly before going back to the very middle, trailing downwards in between your breasts.

When it fell right underneath your costal arch, you felt your breath hitch in your throat, eying his face, only to find his eyes completely focused on his fingertip, "The xiphoid process is the last part of your sternum, divided from the corpus by the xiphisternal joint."

You knew exactly what would happen next, already opening your arms widely to let him settle his head on top of your chest, right on the apex of your heart.

"To listen to your heartbeat," he had admitted once, after a very long day at his univeristy.

So, without keeping him up any longer to make sure he'd be rested for tomorrow, you had placed your lips against his temple, murmuring his favourite sentence against his soft skin, "I love you, 'toru."

[eveningepiphany]

pirates gold, H.S series part 4

series masterlist

my masterlist<3

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew nothing of freedom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Meant to be playing to win.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who was he not to feed into that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hand wrapped around the rope tied around them.

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

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

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

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

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

“See this rope, how it’s worn?”

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

He was handing you the rope.

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

What is wrong with me?

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’gonna help me replace it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—“ you’re so annoyed right now.

“I am not!”

“Y’defensiveness only proves m’point.”

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

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

“Now, princess. Look at this.”

“I’m looking.” You huff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks…” you feel good, accomplished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

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

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

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

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

You can only roll your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can almost relate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I went to school Harry."

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

"What do they even teach you there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s clear this is his tipping point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Intimate almost, if you think about it hard enough.

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

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

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

Exasperated, “I am fine! I am okay!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The conflicting thoughts on his face are clear.

Yet he swallows, and nods.

Then you turn around and walk away.

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However his brain was heavily preoccupied,

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

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

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

“Y’seem off.” He quietly remarked.

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

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

“May have struck a cord with her.”

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

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

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

“Y’checked on her yet?”

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

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

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

He can’t avoid stressing about you.

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

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

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

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

“Thanks mate. I’ll be careful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if you had—

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

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

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

“Im sorry.” He immediately begins.

“I shouldn’t have pushed m’luck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought of you even believing that made him sick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God forbid the day you would do anything for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t handle the truth, Captain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck it, fuck this, you think.

You turn your face to his, noses bumping.

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

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

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

“Not kissing me?”

“Nope.”

“Im giving you permission.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were glossy with water from the sea.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s hot, so hot.

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

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

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

“You taste devine, angel…”

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

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

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

“Harry.” There it was, his name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And this time, all you felt was desire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My. Your brain struggled to compute his possessive words.

My Princess.

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

Your eyes find his.

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

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

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

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

He is so gorgeous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pecks a chaste kiss over your lips.

“Thank,” kiss.

“…you.” another gentle kiss.

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mere then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His green eyes lock with yours,

“N-no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This includes the words coming from your mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking filthy.

You loved it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me suck your cock.”

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

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

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

“I need you to fuck me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus Christ.

Of course the Captain was heavily equipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who is he to say no to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think i have condoms,” he begins.

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

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

“Yet here I am.”

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

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

“The court mandates us to have a rod…”

He frowns, “what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Looking at him is like looking at a painting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

taglist:

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

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

another a/n:

wow!! so hello

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

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

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

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

P.S ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS I MISSED💔 I have reread this as much as my brain will allow me the last week, I will be making edits over the next little while to fix those mistakes but hopefully there’s not too many x

[fairyofshampgyu]

FAIRYOFSHAMPGYU’S TUMBLR WRAPPED ! ⋆⭒˚⋆ <3

saw some mooties do this so I thought it’d be fun to do a little one as well !! Anyway, thank you so much for the love on all my fics I’ve written this year !! I appreciate it so much, whether it’s an ask, comment or reblog or like 😭🫶 I find myself always going back to read feedback bc it makes me so happy !! Thank you to all my moots too !! I received sm love this year thank you I forever am grateful !! >_< 🌷 The way I only wrote about 4 fics in total this year (excluding thoughts I wrote) is an abomination 💀…but I had a very busy year and tbh I do love to take my sweet time writing fics. 😭 I also had quite bad writers block. It’s absolutely crazy how fast this year went, it still felt like it had just started…😟 time is my biggest enemy. Regardless, I feel like every year for me gets better and better and I had an amazing 2024. Will 2025 be able to top 🤔 ? I hope everyone has a great year too !! <3

TOP FIC OF 2024:

Me pegged ?! (first time pegging gyu) 1.94k notes !!

I did not expect this to be my most popular fic this year 😭 but I received so much feedback and love for this so tysmm !! <3💞 I just wrote this pretty fast after my exams finally finished and after having terrible pegging beomgyu brain rot and there not being enough fics of him getting pegged 😪 so I did not expect this to reach nearly 2k already but tbh I get it, beomgyu is very cute in this 🤧 so thank you so so muchhh

MY FAV FIC I WROTE IN 2024:

not as tough as you look ! (Sub emo vinyl store worker gyu x vinyl collector reader)

This was incredibly self indulgent 😭 and somewhat based on a true story (there was no fucking 😪) but this is one of my fav fics I’ve written tbh SUB EMO VINYL STORE WORKER GYU ??!! like I still reread this and get giddy as if I didn’t fucking write it myself 💀 was made by for me LMAO

FAV FICS I READ IN 2024:

I barely read this year bc I was so busy ☹️ so there’s not much, I still have a big to read list to catch up on so many fics but pls pls give me some recs. istg there were way more favs than this and I’m just pulling my hair trying to remember but there’s also a lot still on my to read list so yeah

Star studded baggage (yeonjun, Soobin, beomgyu x reader, reincarnation au, celebrity au, series, fluff) @hannie-dul-set

Not finished but I remember highly enjoying this, such a good unique plot, well written, funny and I’m a sucker for reincarnation aus tbh

What a loser ! (sub, brat stoner gyu) @hyewka

short but I remember I was gagged by this. Love the idea and bratty sub gyu eating you in a skate park 😩 smut was tew good

backrow theatre (subby gyu x dom taehyun x resder) @boba-beom

SUBBY GYU AND DOM TAEHYUN. Enough said. 😮‍💨

Mogi & Nabi (college au, childhood best friends beomgyu to lovers series, fluff) @hannie-dul-set

Loved, loved this fic very much. I wrote a lot about this when I reblogged it yesterday 😭

Divinity for the damned (fallen angel dom gyu, horror, smut) @koqabear

Such a unique plot, so so well written and I love how dark it is and the idea of fallen angel beomgyu

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I (sequel series to yamqn, reincarnation au, switch gyu, series,) @wildernessuntothemselves

another fic I very highly enjoyed reading this year also cried to when it ended lol. The whole entirety of this story and prequel is one of the most compelling stories I’ve seen on here it could literally be like a drama or book and I was so sad that it ended 😭 so well written I love the story.

sub gyu drabble (sub gyu, public, vibrator plug) @hyewka

THIS IS SO GOOD AND YUMMY 😩😩 still come back to this

hybrid puppy gyu thought @wildernessuntothemselves

Still come back to this too, just the love the idea I love puppy gyu

An Ironman (sexbot gyu, sub gyu) @niningtori

Beomgyu was so cute in this and unique plot again, enjoyed reading this v much !!

Violets are blue (beomgyu, hanahaki disease, angst) @niningtori

This was so good and sad when I first read this. I CANNOT handle angst 😭😭💔 everything I read of niningtori puts me into cardiac arrest bc theres so much angst 😭 buts it’s all good bc I love the pain

night lounge (jazz bar, dom beomgyu, bassist gyu) @beomie3

JAZZ BAR, BASSIST GYU SMUT ?? Sign me tf up. Love the idea very much. I wanted to make my own jazz bar smut fic for ages too so I love this great minds think alike

Switch to me (beomkai x reader smut, sub kai, dom gyu) @chyuuiung

I WAS GAGGED !! THE FIRST TIME I READ THIS I fucking love beomkai why aren’t there more beomkai x reader smuts I will literally eat them all up. This was hot

Pretty princess (time travel, royal au, princess reader, fluff series) @beomiracles

Been a while but all I remember was that I had an exam the next day but I binge read the entirety of this. It was very cute and beomgyu was so silly 😭 and I love the plot and enjoyed reading it all

MY GOALS IN 2025:

- write a fucking yeonjun fic 😭 I cannot believe I have never written one. I am a failure. I had one in the drafts this year but then another writer wrote something pretty similar to it and I didn’t want to seem like I was copying 😭 so I’ve let it go. But best believe, I will fucking write that yeonjun fic. 💪‼️ I just need some more ideas.

- in general, write more for txt members 😭 I’m sorry guys beomgyu is my muse and it comes so easy and enjoyable writing for him 😪 I am terrible at going out of my comfort zone. But I do have a drummer college au kai fic in my drafts !!!

- read more fics !! I didn’t get to read as much this year but I hope to read lots

- write a super long fic - literally all my fics are so short 😞 idk how you guys do it but I’m in awe

- interact more with moots - the way I’m not close with any of my moots 😭 ily all though I’m terrible at interacting and socialising I’m so sorry but I will try 💪 I want to get closer to more of you 💞

THAT’S A WRAP ! <3

[dustofthedailylife]

A Stellar Birthday

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairings: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng x (gn!) Reader

Summary: It's your birthday, yet there is something that is tainting your mood. He manages to change that, however.

Tags: Fluff, hints of angst at first (but it's really harmless), SFW, kissing, confessions, Jing Yuan being a scheming master, Dan Heng being bad with feelings

A/N: Second self-indulgent birthday fic! This time for HSR. Hope you enjoy :3

JING YUAN

“Hey.” Your employer briefly knocks at the door of your office to make you aware of his presence before walking up to your desk.

“Hello, sir. Anything the matter?” You inquired carefully, because somehow your gut feeling told you that he was about to tell you something you wouldn’t like.

“Yes. I came to tell you that the vacation day you entered for tomorrow… Unfortunately, you won’t be able to take it anymore.”

“Wh-what? Why?” You ask exasperated. You had booked that day off months in advance because you and Jing Yuan wanted to spend your birthday together.

“I know this is really short notice, but Mei came to my office earlier and it’s her birthday tomorrow. Surely you don’t mind coming to work tomorrow so someone else can celebrate their birthday, right? We’d do the same for you.” 

Your boss tapped your desk twice before turning around again to leave, not even waiting for your reply.

The knot in your throat became tighter and tighter and all you wanted was to yell after him that it was your birthday as well tomorrow. Yet, somehow you didn’t have it in you to correct him, also because you could feel that you would burst into tears the moment you opened your mouth again.

You bit back a sob as you could feel the burning sensation in your eyes and some tears welled up. You tried to calm yourself by repeatedly telling yourself that it couldn’t be helped and that your birthday was just another day of the year anyway. No need to make a big deal about it. You could always spend time with Jing Yuan on another day as well. Right?

You learned your lesson and will just explicitly mention that you will take time off for your birthday next year, something that you had failed to do this year and that had caused this situation in the first place. Your boss could’ve checked your employee card and would’ve seen that it was your birthday as well, but he, too, had a lot on his plate and it couldn’t be helped anymore.

Once you were back home from work you slammed the door shut behind you and quickly took out your phone to open the chat between you and Jing Yuan.

‘Need to cancel our plans tomorrow. I’m sorry. Let’s do something on another day.’ 

You typed and hit send faster than you were able to process before turning your phone to silent mode and throwing it between the pillows of your sofa.

The frustrations of the day began to wash over you all at once at that moment and you could feel the lump in your throat grow to a size that made it hard to breathe. And no matter how much you tried to swallow it down, the tears that started to spill were inevitable. You were angry, frustrated, and just wanted to yell at everything and everyone. Because once again you felt invisible. Like no one in the world cared about your feelings and all you ever had to do was to accommodate everyone else. You hated it and you hated that the feeling was so awfully familiar.

You don’t even know how long you had been crying when the sudden ring of your doorbell pulled you out of the hole of self-pity you had dug for yourself. 

You quickly wiped the tears out of your eyes and checked your face in the mirror beside the door. Your puffy, red eyes would betray that you had been crying to whoever was standing in front of the door right away.

So, you contemplated whether it was a good idea to open at all or if you should simply act like you weren’t at home. Because you didn’t really want to see anyone in this state either. Or, god forbid, have them ask if everything was alright. Because, frankly, nothing was alright right now.

“I know you’re there. Open up.”

The familiar voice rang through the door causing you to perk up. Jing Yuan sounded worried. You assumed that he had probably tried to message or call you and you didn’t pick up because you had set your phone to silent.

Your hand wandered in the direction of the doorknob, which you hesitantly rested it on, still unsure whether to open or to play dead.

“Please… let me in.” He pleaded in a way that almost made your heart shatter. So, with much hesitancy, you decided to open the door.

You immediately saw Jing Yuan’s brows furrow when he looked at your face. Pushing past you inside, he closed the door and immediately took you in his embrace.

“Tell me what happened.” He urged sympathetically, gently stroking your cheeks with his thumb.

Under sobs, you began recalling the events of the day, ending it with a full-on crying session by the moment you stopped talking again. You seriously wondered if he even understood anything you were trying to tell because of how much you had started sobbing throughout it.

He hugged you tightly, wiping away your tears once again, and reassuring you that everything would be alright. At the moment you didn’t quite see how, but he always remained right, so you simply nodded against his chest.

Once you had calmed down a bit he briefly excused himself, reassuring you that he would be right back with something that would cheer you up. And not even forty minutes later he was back with two paper bags filled with your favorite street foods and two cups of Immortal’s Delight.

No matter what, he always knew what he needed to do. While you got some plates and chopsticks out of the kitchen you suddenly heard the familiar ringtone of your phone coming out of the living room.

Confused you walked over to where you had thrown it between the pillows. You could’ve sworn you had put it on silent earlier, so why was it ringing now? 

You fished your phone out and checked the brightly illuminated screen.

Boss.

Why was he calling now? By the Aeons, you sure as hell had enough of him today already.

“Hello?” You picked up questioningly.

“A-ah. It’s good t-that I reach you. Uhm– actually I-I wanted to to tell you that you don’t need to come to work tomorrow. You get your day off. M-my bad. Heh.” He was stammering and sounded more nervous than an alerted Warp Trotter.

“Uh…okay. Thank you.” You paused, walking over to the kitchen, holding your phone to one ear, glaring daggers at Jing Yuan who was happily chewing away at some gyoza and questioningly raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah. Uhm… e-enjoy your birthday tomorrow. Oh, and I-I happened to check our yearly employee evaluation and I’m happy to in-inform you that you’re getting a raise. Come to my office on Friday. O-Okay… bye.”

You didn’t even manage to get a word in before he hung up again. One thing was certain though, something smelled awfully fishy here, and it wasn’t the food Jing Yuan had brought in earlier.

“Who was that?” He asked innocently despite knowing full well who had just called.

“What did you do?” You asked accusingly, crossing your arms over your chest at which he just raised an eyebrow.

“Me? I didn’t do anything.” He acted completely clueless but the twitch of the corner of his lips betrayed the truth.

You knew the influence he had aboard the Luofu. He was the General of the Cloud Knights after all. Never did you expect him to use that influence for such matters, however.

“So… does this mean I can stay the night and the plan to go out tomorrow is back on the table?”

This man was unbelievable.

DAN HENG

“Happy Birthday!” The Astral Express Crew gratulated you in unison.

Himeko placed the cake they got for you on the table in front of you while March readied herself to snap a picture. Mr. Yang stood by and watched with crossed arms and a smile on his face. And Pom-Pom was attempting to admonish everyone to not get any burn holes in or crumbs on the red leather bench.

March began counting down from three waiting for the perfect moment to snap a picture of you blowing out the candles. Followed by claps and more birthday wishes from everyone once they were extinguished.

Well, everyone aside from Dan Heng.

He was silently sitting in an armchair away from everyone simply typing and scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t even looked up once for hours now, let alone engaged in any group activities.

You told yourself you wouldn’t let it sour your mood, it was your birthday after all. So if he wanted to brood, let him brood. 

However, when you tried to hand him a plate with a piece of cake and he just declined the offer with the excuse of not being hungry right now, not even daring to look at you, you couldn’t help but wonder what was up with him.

As you sat back together with the others you occasionally found yourself stealing glances at Dan Heng to see if you could read anything on his face. But it stayed the same. Expressionless and completely unreadable. 

Eventually, after you came back from getting yourself and Mr. Yang a cup of coffee, you found the chair he had sat on all evening empty.

Was something wrong? Did he have a grudge against you?

It didn’t go unnoticed by the others either that you grew quieter and quieter as the evening progressed.

March was the first one to address the elephant in the room.

“It bothers you that Dan Heng didn’t join, right?” And she couldn’t have hit the nail more on the head even if she tried.

You hummed in agreement, taking another sip from your coffee. You looked back to the empty chair for a brief moment, while a thousand questions popped into your head once more.

Ever since the Crew had come back from the Luofu he had been more quiet than usual. He barely even spoke a word with you and kept locking himself up in his room for days on end. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t bother you. Because with every day that passed you wondered more and more why he was acting so differently.

“Don’t worry so much. He’s probably just grumpy about something. He’ll be back to normal in no time.” March reassured with an infectious smile, slinging her arms around you in a quick hug. “Now, we should do something about this gloomy mood. It’s your birthday! What do you want to do? More cake? Dancing? Anything?”

In all honesty, you didn’t really feel like partying as long as Dan Heng’s weird behavior was at the back of your mind constantly. Because no matter what you were doing, you kept thinking about it sooner or later again anyway.

“Did… something happen on the Luofu?” You finally decided to ask. 

March seemed to be taken by surprise by your question before immediately and hectically waving off that anything had happened. Unfortunately for her, she could be read like an open book. So, you immediately knew she was lying. But why?

What happened on the Luofu?

You nodded, accepting that you wouldn’t get any answers from her tonight, and excused yourself, telling everyone that you would be heading to bed now. 

On the way to your room, you saw that Dan Heng’s door wasn’t closed entirely and a streak of light from the inside illuminated the hallway of the cart. You couldn’t help but steal a glance inside, but you found the room completely empty.

Wondering where he went you walked straight past your room, and through some other carts until you eventually reached the observatory and the very last cart.

And this is also where you found him. 

He was sitting next to the telescope at the desk, writing something down. When you knocked on the doorframe to make him aware of your presence, he perked his head up to look at you. Yet somehow he immediately almost looked alert.

“What are you doing here?” His voice sounded panicked, almost accusatory.

“I came looking for you when I saw your room was empty–” You began to explain, confused about the hostility in the air. 

“Did you go in?” He interrupted frantically, jumping up from his chair with a shocked look in his beautiful turquoise eyes.

“I–what? No!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What is going on with you?”

“It’s nothing.” He once again waved it off, as usual. And his demeanor left more questions than answers every time he did just that.

“Nothing? As in nothing you want to tell me? Nothing why you keep avoiding me? Nothing why you keep diverting the topic whenever I try to ask about the Luofu mission?” You huffed in frustration. You could feel anger that stemmed from weeks of confusion and unanswered questions well up in the pit of your stomach, making you ball your fists at your sides.

Dan Heng exhaled heavily, diverting his gaze to the ground, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Just… talk to me.” You demanded pleadingly.

He took a few steps in your direction, breathing heavily. And before you knew it the air around him began to glow in such a bright blue light, that you had to shield your eyes in order to not get blinded. Sparkles began to form, making the room ooze with magic you had no idea existed. 

When the light finally dimmed again, you lowered the hand you had held in front of your face. But what was in front of you exceeded even your wildest imaginations. Long, silky black hair that faded into dark blue cascaded down Dan Heng’s shoulders, crystalline horns had grown on his head, a translucent dragon tail had formed behind him, and icy blue, glowing eyes were staring right at you. 

You wanted to say something – ask so many questions that were burning at the back of your mind, but every word you were desperate to speak died on your tongue. You were too stunned to speak.

He nodded, dropping his eyes, and pressed his lips into a thin line with a defeated look on his face.

“There. This is why I didn’t tell you… why I’ve been acting the way I did. Because I was scared you would think I’m–”

“Beautiful.” You muttered under your breath faster than your brain could process that you just said it out loud.

“What?” He asked in disbelief.

“You look… beautiful.” You almost choked on your words, still in disbelief over what you just said. You had never acted on your feelings for Dan Heng because you didn’t know if he felt the same for you and in fear of making things awkward. But there was no going back from it now. 

“Like… I truly mean i–mphh”

Before you knew it he had pulled you in by your waist, uniting your lips with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs and made you feel lightheaded. 

“Oh god, I-I’m so sorry. I just– I didn’t mean to–” He stammered in panic immediately after breaking off the kiss and realizing what he had just done. Lifting his hand up to his lips shaking his head.

“Please do that again.” You immediately cut him off, pulling his hand away from his face and slinging your arms around his neck while pulling him closer. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest at this point and your face felt like it was burning up. 

You could smell the bitterness of the coffee he had been drinking all evening on his breath and the familiar scent of his aftershave. Because despite everything, he was still Dan Heng. Your Dan Heng. The one you had grown to love. And nothing was ever going to change that.

And with one last adoring look into your eyes, he pulled you in once more in a silent declaration of love.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[olive-may-write]

Hope

Hi! So this is the first time that I've wrote somthing this length in a while so this will be a bit rusty.

This is slightly self indulgent as someone who has chronic pain, I just thought I'd write someone up with a reader who has it in mind.

Anyway reader is someone who experiences chronic pain, it's a small insight into the mind of someone who lives with it. I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possoble, but other than that I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to give feedback of any kind, I just ask that you are kind <3.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton X Reader

Possible triggers: Dissusion of mental health problems, mentions of chronic pain and how it can affect someone's life, Mention of feeling sick / vomiting.

---------------------------------

The drawing room is not exactly the best place for you to be right now, you had initially thought that a spot of reading would be a sufficient distraction from the blinding pain shooting through your temple. unfortunately, the book you are reading, or trying to at least is not providing any useful distraction, with the words on the page becoming more blurred the more you try to preserver.

Huffing you close the book, trying to focus on something else to distract you from the burden you carry. The pain. 

You were never a sickly child, quite the opposite, you were always able to bounce back from any aliment that affected you, that was until sometime during your early adulthood. You cannot fully remember when it happened, just that one day it started, a sharp pain like a needle had been pushed through just under your kneecap and the stubborn thing would not go away.

At first, you had thought you had just over-exerted yourself during the social season with dancing, however, when that had ended, and you found yourself with more time to rest and recover you found that this pain remained. And it had gotten worse, it slowly moved upwards towards your other joints, sending sparks between all the different offending joints. 

A knock at the door breaks your train of painful thought, you slowly move towards the door, confused as you had confessed to your maid that if anyone needed or wanted you for anything to very gently turn them in another direction to not exacerbate your pain anymore with meaningless conversations. 

The door slowly creeks open, your maid’s face apologetically peeking around the frame.

“Apologies, I understand you did not want to be bothered; however, you have a visitor. One who is very adamant to see you, even after I explained that you had fallen ill today…”  she relays, she seems almost skittish, unlike her usual self. This visitor has put up more of a battle than others, who would see you? 

Sighing you looked towards her, trying not to cringe at a sudden stinging in your temples, you can’t very well be mad at her, after all, she can’t ultimately swat away everyone that wants to see you, though you had hoped that you would’ve had more time to try and calm down this headache before seeing anyone, alas, fortune is not in your favour today. 

“Please do not apologise, Ester, you tried your best,” you say sympathetically. “I do not think I would be so lucky to hide myself away for the whole day without interruptions, please do send whoever is most eager to see me in, if you would not mind.” With the housekeeper slipping back out the door you try to calm yourself, ‘breath, just breath’ you think, trying to calm yourself down, trying to calm the headache, as well as your body. 

You are not given enough time, as you hear the door opening again, this time more swiftly than before, footsteps moving quickly and a huffing breath. You then realise a slight error in your wording to your maid early, while you had instructed her to tell people that you had fallen ill, you mostly assumed that she would only need to tell people already aware of your ailment, and with that understanding they would know that you were somewhat alright and not gravely ill and not someone else. Someone who is not aware of your condition, someone who is now staring at you with anxious eyes trying to determine what it is that is wrong with you. 

With your body still positioned towards the door you fully take in your visitor, Mr Benedict Bridgerton. You watch as he steps into the room, the door slowly closing over, trapped. 

“I was told you were ill” he starts, stepping closer towards the chair you reside in, eyes still darting over you trying to determine the cause of your ‘illness.’ 

“I give my apologies for being so ardent in wanting to see you, I had initially come here under different pretences, however, the way your maid described your illness I was stricken with worry.” He speaks too quickly, staring at you with a slightly overwhelming concern.

“What ails you so?” he finishes almost crouching in front of you. The pause in the room is too stifling, this question that you hoped you would never have to answer while alone. In the past, you were always quite fortunate when the question had come up, with your father or mother there to quickly move the conversation along. Never bringing the truth to light. 

“A misstep walking down some stairs! The floors had just been washed and they were simply too enthralled within their novel to notice” was one such story that had to be shelved after multiple uses.

“Oh, you know they were just so concentrated with their needlework that they strained their hands; nothing to concern yourself about” another one, a slightly more believable story, and one that could be told repeatedly. However this time you were alone, there was no one to save you, no one to swiftly tell a half-truth. No, you were on your own, and with a mind-numbing headache in addition. 

“Ah, yes, erm please do excuse Ester, she does tend to exaggerate a little bit with her storytelling, I have but a simple headache.” You are not exactly lying, you do have a headache, you are simply omitting that the ache is also everywhere else within you. 

“Oh, thank goodness!” Benedict replies, visibly relaxing, almost bending in half with the sigh he lets out. 

“I thought you to be gravely ill with how your maid detailed your condition” he continues, “That you could hardly move, and you were racked with pain” he recounts, what you can only assume to be Esther's attempt at persuasion. And while true, you had hoped she would have chosen something along the lines of having a simple cold. 

“Yes, well, as you can see, I am in perfect health, you have nothing to worry about Mr Bridgerton, though your concern is duly appreciated. I do hope your time has not been wasted by travelling over here,” you respond, very much hoping that you can put this conversation to bed. You can feel the pain in your temples starting to come down towards your neck, you need to move, having been sitting in one position for too long but with Mr Bridgeton here you could not just up and move. You also had forgotten your cane this morning in your room, not thinking you would need it very much today, and you did not particularly want to be witnessed limping up and out of the room in front of a man who had no idea of your condition. 

Your only plausible solution was to grin and bear it, or rather, politely smile and nod along to whatever this man was about to ask you.

“Nonsense!” he exclaims loudly in a jovial manner, making the pain shoot through you once more.

“My time is never wasted when it comes to you” he speaks softly, as if he realised that by shouting, he would be causing you pain. 

“If you are in good health I was wondering if I might ask something of you?” Ah the question you have been waiting for, it could not have come quicker. 

“Yes, you may” Your response could be seen as quite rushed if you were in a normal situation, however with the pressure in your temples building and the pain slowly becoming more intense, you found yourself not caring how your actions could be perceived as by others of the ton.

There is a moment of silence where neither of you say anything, staring at him expectingly, you choose to prompt him by nodding your head towards him, hoping he catches onto your hint. 

“Oh Right!” he starts with a jump. “Well I came here today with a confession of sorts, I have witnessed you, wait! Ah!” he suddenly stops almost aware of how slightly strange he must sound. 

“Oh goodness, well- I, god” You take some pity on him as he seems to stumble over his words, ablet not enough pity to warrant sitting patiently in an increasingly uncomfortable chair. 

“Mr Bridgton, I do not mean to rush you but would you please simply ask this question” huffing slightly. 

“I know this is not how I am supposed to go about this, but I cannot ignore my feelings for you any longer! Please would you do the honour of letting me court you?”

There is a pause after his confession, stunned, shocked you are not sure how to respond. You almost think it is some cruel jest that he has been set up to follow through, but as you look at him, his expression and how he holds himself you realise that he is being as truthful. You feel as if someone has thrown a bucket of cold water over you, what does this mean? This cannot be real. This man of high stature wants to court you. While not lowly in rank, you certainly are not what you would expect a Bridgerton to go for and certainly not someone as seemingly broken as yourself. 

Sitting there for a few more moments you realise that he is still waiting for your response. 

“I, I cannot” you start “I am very sorry, but I cannot accept this offer.” You state, dropping your focus to the floor. 

“I. what?” Benedict almost laughs, stunned. 

“Why can you not? Are you intended to another?”

“No, I am very much not.”

“Are you interested in someone else?” You scoff at the question. 

“No, not that it matters either way” The pain starting to build up even more now that you are having to argue your case.

“I have refused your offer, Mr Bridgton, I do fear that Ester had some truth in her words and I feel a headache coming on. I think it best that you leave for the day” You aren’t lying per se,  you have had a headache for the best part of the day. 

“But why not? I do apologise, but I am simply confused. You are not intended to another, and you are not interested in anyone else, so why refuse my offer.” He states.

“At least agree to court me, and then you can make your decision afterwards, at least let me have a chance to show you how I care for you.”

You are starting to get frustrated, and the pain in your head has started to become unbearable, like someone smashing pots and pans together, you feel a ringing in your ears, and you almost want to throw up. 

“I am not well!” you explode, your breathing is ragged as your chest moves quickly. The pain in your temples is more present than ever, cringing you move to push your forefinger and thumb to either side of your nose bridge and start to pinch, hoping that brute force would almost will the pain to subside. 

‘Pathetic’ you think to yourself, ‘I can’t even argue correctly, must everything I do be muddled with pain?’ You try and calm your breathing, focusing on the feeling of your fingers on your face, the clothes you are wearing, your breathing, anything to try and calm the pain down before it loses control. 

There is a strange tension between the both of you, a quiet blanket that has been��placed over the room as you do not know what to say. 

“I am not well sir… I have not been for quite some time” you start again, still pressing your finger and thumb into the sockets below your eyebrows. 

“Ester was right. I am riddled with pain, every day. I cannot dress without the pain, eat without it, speak, walk, laugh; live without it, I am tormented by it…” You begin to feel a sharp pain behind your eyes as tears start to fall onto your cheeks. Realising that by unravelling this thread that you would not be able to stop, you cannot tangle it back up again and simply throw it into your sewing box never to be spoken about again. 

“I cannot be who you want me to be, I cannot offer you anything. It hurts to live, and I cannot burden you with that, you would be throwing away your freedom if I were to agree to your request. Do you want that? To be saddled with an intended that cannot do the simplest of tasks without the burden of pain?” You seem to burst out into a frenzy of words. 

Without giving him a chance to argue back you move to stand, using a hand to brace yourself on the side of the chair you are occupying, you push down to give your body the momentum to move, your elbow shaking as it strains under the surplus of weight it is not normally used to. You curse yourself for not bringing your cane with you.

You pause while trying to catch your breath, frustrated that you simply cannot run out of the room and hide after such a shocking outburst, left to just stand there trying to muster up the strength and energy to try and move towards the door. With your head tilted down you were fortunate enough that you could not see his face, which was one of pain and shock. 

Starting again you move towards the door, gripping the backs of chairs and the edges of side tables, with your back turned you don’t see Benedict moving as well, like a kicked puppy wanting to be comforted he follows behind you, he does keep his distance, not wanting to upset you further than you already are.

As you place your hand on the door, dropping it down so you are grabbing the handle, you feel a presence behind you. From the corner of your vision, you see a hand place itself on the door. You slowly turn around to face him, you thank some part of him that he is not crowding you up against the door, that he has given you some space. 

“Please let me go, let me go. You can be free, you can move on, let me be.” you pleaded, looking up at him, your eyes flitting over his face looking for a sign, any sign that would indicate that he headed your prayer. You slowly focus on his eyes, looking within them, your breath hitches as all you see is a kindness so gut-wrenching it makes you feel physically sick. 

There is no malice, no pity, or any inclination that he will follow your word. All you see within his gaze is kindness, one of love and hope. You start to feel overwhelmed, having such a kind affectionate gaze homed in on you. You think back to all the times you caught his gaze; at balls, gatherings, when he would come to speak to you, when he came to visit today to ask to court you. You think about how there was no pity within his stare, no sympathy, no looks of “such a shame, one so young yet so ill,” none of that. 

You start to think about how you have brushed him off, how you have ignored him, at times even running away from him, too wrapped up in your melancholy to even look, actually look at how he was gazing at you, too scared to even admit that someone might even look at you within out an ounce of pity. 

You start to think about how you could allow this, the love and admiration of another person, how this could happen. Could this happen? Could you willingly put your anxieties aside and let someone in, could they be your rock, could they hold you when the pain becomes overwhelming, suffocating you, pulling you down into despair? 

Could you let him? As this question appears within your mind you feel a spark, like flint and rock smashing together, start within you. It is almost unnerving, unnatural. You have not felt this for an extraordinarily long time, almost losing belief that you could ever feel it again.

Hope. Hope that you could be loved and cherished, that you could have someone there for your bad days, as well as your good days where you could go for a walk or a carriage ride, where you could go to socials and visit family. 

This line of thought left you almost breathless, as you still stood within the drawing room of your home. Slightly pressed up against the door, with one of your hands behind your back on the handle as you were trying to escape…again. 

As this chaos was happening within your head, Benedict slowly brought his hand to your cheek, hesitating as if unsure if his action would cause you more pain than comfort. 

Pushing the feeling of guilt down, you take a leap of faith by slowly moving your head towards him, tilting it so your cheek rests within his palm. You flinch slightly, Benedict moving his band away from you, nervous that he might have caused you more anguish. Quickly you stop him, bringing your other hand to cage his, gently placing his hand back onto your face, cupping your cheek and jaw slightly through his hand.

“It…it did not hurt that much, I was just surprised is all” you whispered “It has been a very long time since anyone has held my face this way” You can feel your reserve beginning to crack, you pushed forward, that small spark of hope within you starting to burn brighter.

“It is quite lovely actually, I don’t have to use as much energy to hold my head up when it is being held for me” you ramble, trying to ease the tension and hopefully his nerves. 

“I see” he replies slowly, looking over you to make sure that his actions are not upsetting you in any way. Slowing analysing your features, sketching your appearance in his mind, unsure if he might get an opportunity to be this close to you again. 

Bringing his focus to your eyes he is startled at what he finds, hope. A small whisp of it, and while surrounded by what he can assume is anxieties and doubt, he is so certain that it is there. 

 “If you would let me” he continues “it would be an honour to hold your head for you if only for a moment, to provide but a small reprieve.” Realising that you are not stopping him from speaking, he continues.

“You are so extraordinarily strong, a remarkable person. Willing to take on so much and push through it all, despite the load you carry” he feels your head rest slightly more in his hand, seeing your eyes fluttering before you shut them for a moment. He is worried slightly that he might have messed up, saying something that pushed you down into the darkness rather than bringing you up into the light. However, as you open your eyes again, slowly raising your focus from his chest to his face, then to meet his gaze once more, he disregards his previous concern. He can see that spark burning ever so slightly brighter.

You gently pressed his hand between your own and your face, turning the latter into his palm so that your lips were ever so gently touching below his thumb. If he would be so bold he could move the digit with a feather-like touch across your cheek and wipe away any tear marks from earlier. 

“But you do not have to carry this load alone, I am not sacrificing my freedom wanting to be with you” parroting one of your earlier statements with earnestness.

“I am not sacrificing anything, I come forward willingly, I come to you after hearing about you and your life. I come to you as a willing partner if you would have me. Allow me to carry some of your load, let me hold your head and hands for you. Allow me the honour of holding you during your dark moments as well as your light.” 

“I want to be there for you, with you, I am not here out of pity, I am here out of admiration and love. I fear that if I loved you any less, I would be able to talk about it more, my heart is but a reflection of you.” He felt like he was rambling, struggling to find the words to convey his true feelings, how he was frazzled by you, in a way he had not been before. 

There was a pause and he started to doubt himself, his words, and his abilities before he saw a subtle movement from the outskirts of his vision.

As you looked into his eyes you could feel your grip on the door handle slipping, becoming less tense, less firm. Overcome with emotions from Benedict’s confession your hand goes limp, falling from the handle completely. 

As you stare into his eye you slowly bring now limp hand up towards his face, almost parallel to his still cupping onto your own. You move slowly, akin to a dazed animal who is wary of any sudden movements; as you reach, you settle your arm on his chest resting so that your palm now cups his jawbone. 

Benedict sees the movement, your hand dropping and moving up, towards him, he feels like he might faint, being able to touch you is one thing, but you, touching him is something he did not consider. He shuts his eyes, almost squeezing them closed not wanting to frighten you with how shocked he must look. 

When you finally rest your hand against his chest, he felt like his heart must have stopped beating, he froze, willing himself to take a breath, to steel himself before opening his eyes. 

For when he did, he was in awe, the spark that was once so dim, nearly stamped out was burning and it was burning bright. 

“Do you mean it?” you ask, voice shaking slightly.

“With my whole heart, with the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. I will be by your side till you are through with me, till I drive you mad, till we are grey and even then, I will still hold your head for you so you can rest for a while.” Benedict tries to convey every ounce of his emotions that he feels so you can be sure that you are fully aware of what he is experiencing. 

“I think I would like that” your reply is rushed. Not wanting to waste a moment, not letting it run away or hide. You finally made your choice, you would let hope win, you would lose the battle but win the war and your victory prize did not seem all that bad. 

[sleep-drunk-kitten]

"𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫" 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 "𝐍𝐨𝐰"𝐬

pairing: Barista! Kang Yeosang x fem!reader

genre: sickly sweet fluff, soft angst with a happy ending, coffee shop au?

content warnings: none

summary: After losing the one person who you believed would be your forever, finding love again seems nearly impossible... but the sweet barista who hands you your morning coffee might just changce your mind...

notes: Hey ya'll! I'm finally back and clawing my way out of that writing slump~ This fic was purely self indulgent and the past/present tense is a little all over the place, but oh well, I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

Please support your authors, likes are sweet and all but it's reblogs, comments, and asks that give us the will and confidence to keep writing and sharing our work <3

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Forever” 

In hindsight, it was a fickle promise. 

Though born into existence to encompass eternity, the word had lost its meaning somewhere along the line. 

“Oh it’s been forever! How are you?”

“Traffic was so bad, it took forever to get here”

“Oh that? It happened forever ago, I wouldn’t remember”

Its meaning changed and shifted as surely as the ripple of dunes in a desert. 

A minute.

An hour. 

Months.

Days. 

In the case of you and the person you’d called your soulmate, forever had been all of eight years. 

Eight years spent holding their hand. Kneeling down to tie the shoelace they never secured quite right. Sharing whispered conversations in the dim lights of orange streetlamps bleeding through frosted glass panes. Building futures where you moved in together, your smiles greeting each other after every long day, your arms always open and waiting for them to fall into. 

You’d never planned for a life without them in it.

Not once had you truly believed it possible for them to leave. 

So it was only natural that when they did, they took a part of you with them. The part of you that once believed in promises like “I’ll be by your side, always.”

Promises of “forever” or plans for the future had become intolerable. Feeling like a lie. A scam. Insincerity on your lips even when you wanted more than anything to believe it. Something that had once seemed so beautiful and bright in your eyes now filling your chest with grief. The weight of it pressing down on your heart, churning and swirling in waves so high and tumultuous they lapped against the sides of your throat so painfully there were days when something as simple as breathing burned. 

You were sure you’d never be able to build a connection that strong with another human soul. 

That was of course until you met him.

“Here’s your order”

Kang Yeosang was a quiet man. Offering you no more than a smile and your order every morning when you dropped by the cafe on campus.

You’d smile back, thank him, and get on with your day. 

It became routine, the familiar smell of coffee beans and chocolate chip cookies embracing you for a few moments as you steadied yourself, mentally preparing for the day ahead. The sound of the vintage bell above the shop door almost hypnotic in the way it caused your whole body to relax. The weight lodged in your chest and throat ebbing. Leaving behind the barren, still peace of low tide. 

Your commitment to this ritual and your usual order was so resolute that the pretty barista no longer asked what you wanted, realising early on that you deliberately came to the cafe early because you enjoyed the quiet.

As long as you never asked for anything different, which you never did, he would acknowledge you with a nod when you walked in before wordlessly moving round behind the counter to prepare your drink. Allowing you to bask in blissful silence for a few extra minutes. 

It was nice. 

”It’s on the house”

Your careful monotony was broken for the first time on a rainy Wednesday morning. You’d missed your first class of the day by sleeping through your alarm, woken up late, and neglected to bring an umbrella in your rush to leave your dorm. 

Voices prickle over your skin in the already crowded cafe, clusters of people looking to escape the damp and cold surrounding you on all sides despite the fact that you’d wedged yourself into a small table by the large glass windows, knee bouncing in agitation as you stared out at the steely grey sky. The rain on the way to the cafe had been mild, barely more than a drizzle, but whatever was brewing promised to be much, much worse, enough to force you to seriously consider making a trip back to your room to get an umbrella. 

But that would mean more time lost, more walking, potentially arriving to class much later than you’d intended, which really wouldn’t be so bad but it was still so frustrating and-

“y/n?”

The soft call of your name catches you off guard, the deep, velvety voice cutting cleanly through the chatter despite the caution laced through his tone. You look up, familiar, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, as though he was the one who should have been startled. “Your order,” he explains, setting down a to-go cup and a small paper bag. 

It takes you a moment to notice the addition, peering inside the bag and finding four small chocolate chip cookies nestled inside. “I didn’t order this,” you say, holding out the bag to him, confusion and irritation creasing your brow at yet another unexpected change. 

“Oh! I know…” he says, pushing the cookies back towards you, “it’s… it’s on the house.” 

His ears flush red as he says it, a lisp you hadn’t noticed before creeping into his voice when he hesitates, his words coming out a bit like a question. An offer. A hand reaching out and asking ’is this okay?’

You pause, frozen in place for a moment, a blush creeping up your neck to match his own. “Ah… well… thank you, yeosang.”

He smiles, pushing back against the flurry of butterflies coming to life in his chest. 

You remembered his name.

He wants to hear you say it again, his mind already replaying how sweet it sounded coming off your lips on loop, echoing through his skull so that when he goes over the scene again in his head he can’t be sure whether or not his next words came out quite right.

“Of course, what are friends for.”

From then on, there was always a bag with a different sweet treat tucked in beside your order, and for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the surprise. 

”I’m happy to be spending time with you right now”

Is what yeosang says on all your dates. 

You’re not sure how exactly it happened. When small talk turned to sitting and sharing your morning beverages. When study dates became actual dates spread out over picnic blankets on the beach. When trips art exhibitions and bazaars shifted into walking hand in hand under the light of bright shop signs and flickering lampposts, a large reusable grocery bag filled with the ingredients needed to make pasta hanging off his shoulder.

It’s barely a date. But he insists that the impulsive decision to leave his house at 8:30pm to join you at the grocery store may as well be. 

Because he was with you. 

And that was all he needed.

Free hand wrapped loosely around your own, watching fondly as you tiptoe to avoid the cracks in the tiles. 

He’d asked you to be his that night. Perched on a swing set that hung far too low for his legs. Lips parting slightly when you leaned over to swipe at them, chocolate ice cream smeared across his skin. You were fussing, telling him that he shouldn’t be such a messy eater at the grown age of twenty one, when his expression made your words come up short. An open, searching fondness in his gaze that made your heart swell painfully against your ribcage. 

You knew that look. 

That was exactly how you used to look at them.

Yeosang seemed to sense your hesitation, placing his hand over yours on his cheek before you could back away. There was no force in his grip. No pressure holding your hand in place. You could have retracted it easily if you wished to. But you didn’t. The confusing ache in your chest craving more of his skin against yours. 

“Is this okay?” he’d asked, allowing your joined hands to drop, hanging in the space between you. 

You could only nod. Wanting to highlight the fact that he’d been holding your hand for the better part of an hour just before you’d sat down to enjoy your ice cream, but opted not to when you found you couldn’t quite trust your ability to speak without your voice shaking. 

Yeosang wasn't always the best at reading people. He'd discovered very early on in life that smiles and bright voices didn't necessarily come with good intentions, and it left him wondering if he'd simply been foolish. Unsure of whether or not it was his own fault that he'd misunderstood and gotten hurt in the process. 

He often felt lost when it came to navigating the emotions of those around him. Confusion swirling in the undercurrent of nearly all his relationships… but not with you. He was never unsure about you. 

Admittedly, he couldn't really say he'd fallen in love with you at first sight or anything (though he wished he could've). When you'd walked into that cafe and fumbled through your tote for your wallet he hadn't thought much about it at all, smiling patiently and going about business as usual. He doubted he'd even remember your name. But you were there again the next day, and the day after that (you brought a backpack instead of the tote with a cat on it), twice on Thursday (your hair was an absolute mess on your second visit), and on Friday you stayed till late, body folded over scattered notes and highlighters (it seemed like you had a habit of tugging your own hair when you were stressed). 

With each visit, he began noticing you more and more, till he found himself wondering what had happened to upset you, or what made your smile seem brighter that morning.

It took some time (and a lot of teasing from Wooyoung and Jongho) for him to realise that he liked you. That no, he did not pay that much attention to all his regulars. And then it took a little longer (and a little encouragement from Seonghwa) for him to muster up the courage to actually approach you. A part of him expected that maybe, once you both became closer, you'd start to close yourself off. That the same confusion he'd come to expect from everyone but Wooyoung and San would come creeping into his mind when you found reason to hide how you felt. 

But that day never came to pass. Yeosang was pleasantly surprised to find that the more he knew about you, the easier you were to decipher. Even if you refused to say anything, your lips pressed into a thin line when you were upset. No matter how many times you smoothed your expression over, your brow always creased with worry when you felt anxious. You crossed your legs when you were comfortable, and sat up straight and folded your hands in your lap when you weren't. None of these things changed as he got closer to you, and the closer his heart moved to yours the more he understood. 

More often than not, he knew almost instinctively what you needed. And on the few occasions where he was unsure, he knew he could ask, because you could never find it in you to lie to a person you loved. 

So he sat with you in silence for a while. 

Tracing abstract patterns over your knuckles. 

Allowing the steady trill of crickets and buzz of cicadas to fill the silence.

Knowing the negative space was something you needed, even if he wasn’t always sure why. 

He waited patiently for the sound of your breathing to deepen, your hand relaxing in his own, your body unconsciously leaning closer to him before he spoke. “Thank you for letting me join you tonight.”

You chuckled slightly in response, dragging the heel of your shoe over the cracked rubber floor of the playground. “I should be the one thanking you, how would I ever make it home with such a heavy burden in my hands,” you'd joked, gesturing to the plastic bag settled on his lap.

“Oh but of course, you're just a girl after all,” he said with a serious little pout. 

“I really am, I shouldn't have to cook my own dinner or carry big heavy things like parsley and blocks of cheese,” you tried your best to mimic his sombre expression back at him, but failed miserably, the two of you breaking into childish giggles as soon as your eyes met. 

You took a few breaths to calm down, looking up to find that Yeosang was already smiling at you. His eyes shining with unshed tears from laughing too hard, that same fondness glittering under the warm streetlights. 

He brought your joined hands up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles before turning your hand over and placing another on your wrist. 

“My girl…” he whispered, though it sounded almost like a question. 

You didn't immediately respond, mind stuttering as the painful swell of your heart faded into something much different, something more gentle and fragile. 

Unfortunately for you both, Yeosang mistook your surprise for hesitation, backtracking quickly. “Sorry, I just mean… I'm… only if you want to be, we don't-” 

“Can you say it again?” 

“Huh?” he'd blinked in confusion, and you were smiling. A slow, giddy sort of smile that made him thankful for the low light of the park. 

It was your turn to bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft kiss against his racing pulse. “I want my boy to call me his again.” 

Yeosang was sure he might implode. 

”But you’re here all the time, we might as well move in together at this rate”

Panic sets in when he says it. 

You wish it wouldn’t. 

The fear that had been digging its way into your thoughts since you’d agreed to be his crawling over your skin, curling into an uncomfortable knot in your throat. 

You try to smile when he turns back round, try to remember what the two of you had been discussing when he placed the popcorn in the microwave, but your mind is moving too fast, pulling you further and further into yourself before you can fight it. 

“My love? You with me baby?��� 

His voice calls you back. Just like that time in the cafe, it reaches you easily through the overlapping voices in your head, a hand coming to rest on your cheek. “Yeah… Yeah I’m okay… just tired,” you dismiss easily, placing a hand over his and offering him a strained smile that leaves him thoroughly unconvinced. 

He purses his lips, looking thoughtful for a moment before deciding on an answer. “What… what kind of tired?” 

“Uhm… regular? Tired?” you try.

“Nono, not that, I mean… body tired? Brain tired? People tired?”

Oh.

You realise what he’s trying to ask, and the answer that immediately comes to mind, clear even in your muddled state almost makes you giggle despite yourself. Wrapping your arms over his shoulders and clasping them behind his neck, pulling him a little closer to you. “I’m a little people tired, it’s been a long week, but I’m not you tired, sangie, I want you to stay.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, hands coming to rest where they’d made a home for themselves on your hips, “we can always raincheck movie night if you’re not feeling up for it you know…”

“I know, my love, thank you,” you say, resting your forehead on his chest, timing your breathing to his heartbeat, the knot in your throat slowly unwinding with each exhale, “I’m really alright though… just happy to be with you right now.”

Yeosang breathes a sigh of relief, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “That’s my line you know…”

“Oh I’m sorry,” you huff playfully, “I didn’t realise that saying it back was copyright infringement.”

“Hmnnn, that doesn’t make you any less guilty though, now does it?” he hums, wrapping his arms more securely round your waist and slowly swaying your bodies from side to side. “There’s a penalty for this sort of thing you know.”

You snort, tipping your head up to look at him incredulously. “And what might that be, good sir?” 

“For a cutie like you? Mmmmmnnn… a dance?”

You gasp, batting your eyelashes in mock horror. “And what if I say it again? What awful sum would I have to pay then?” 

He pretends to think for a moment, the two of you now shuffling and swaying in time to music no one else could hear. “Perhaps… a kiss?” he says, head tipping to the side in a way he knows you can't resist. 

You tut, shaking your head and sighing defeatedly. “I suppose you leave me no choice then, I’m afraid I must confess that I am immeasurably happy in this moment, I’m so very desperately happy to be with you.”

You both manage to keep up a serious facade for all of two seconds before bursting into fits of giggles, clinging onto each other for dear life. 

Once you both calm down, yeosang presses another kiss to your hairline, holding your body close to his, wishing he could somehow be even closer so his heart could rest beside yours even when heaven took his soul. 

”You are my small but definite happiness too.”

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

yin & yang pt. 4

Pairing: Ben Tennyson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.7k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Summary: You were an unlikely pair, everyone could see that. But what happens when you get a glimpse into a future where your differences were too much for you to bear?

A/N: Once again just a silly little self-indulgent fic. Hope you enjoy!

Ben groaned in boredom, laying his face against the dirty tables outside Mr. Smoothie. Not even the smoothie, cheekily titled banana-fantana, was able to cheer him up like Gwen had been hoping.

"What's up with you?" Kevin asked, drinking his soda that he got from a nearby vending machine, after he had refused a smoothie four times.

"I miss (Y/N)." He mumbled, pouting.

They shared a glance over his head. Gwen ushered for Kevin to speak but he shook his head adamantly, mouthing that he wanted no part in this and crossing his arms.

Gwen glared at him.

"Speaking of (Y/N)—" Kevin began, all too quickly.

Ben finally raised his head from the table to look at Kevin and his friend bit his tongue, turning back to Gwen with wide eyes and beckoning her to speak.

"Uh, it's not that we don't like (Y/N)—we do! She's a great addition to the team and a good friend even—and um, Kevin?"

The man in question gave her a wicked glare before Ben turned to him and the murderous expression on his face was wiped away, "Gwen's just concerned that you might be—how did she put it—'acting like a lovesick fool'."

The look he got from Gwen was in stark contrast to the pig-headed grin he was bearing.

"What are you talking about?"

Gwen finally sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We all know that you have this crush on (Y/N) but—and I mean this in the nicest way possible—but don't you think it's time that you start, you know, trying to get over her?"

He raised a brow, "Why on earth would I do that?"

"It's nice that you like her so much, but you know what (Y/N)'s like; she's driven and focused and her career as a Proctor is the most important thing to her—not that that's a bad thing! It's just—well—someone like that doesn't really seem like the type to date or be into relationships, you know?"

"That's not all what she's about. I know it doesn't seem like it but she's actually really sensitive and sweet."

They shared another glance, unconvinced.

"Guys, I'm serious! We have something between us!" He defended, unconsciously clenching his fist, and crushing the half-full smoothie cup in his hand.

Gwen let out an irate sigh.

Growing up, she had only heard of how smart she was from everyone surrounding her—her parents, her grandfather, even Ben—and yet whenever she tried to explain something to people, they tended not to listen.

If only Ben would listen to her now, he'd be able to avoid so much pain in the future. Whenever she tried to gently nudge him, he'd never listen so this time she took a more direct approach and yet, he still wasn't listening.

"Ben, please. I can tell that you're actually falling for her but honestly, where do you even see this going? Do you actually believe that you're going to get married and have kids or something like that?"

"Gwen, I'm just sixteen, it's way too soon to be worrying about something like that!"

"So, you're just going to date her until it becomes a problem?"

Ben rolled his eyes, standing from the table, "How about you mind your own business and keep your nose out of my relationship. I don't have to sit here and convince you of anything."

Kevin watched him walk away before letting out a low whistle, ignoring his girlfriend's glare, "I told you that was a bad idea."

***

Ben kept a single hand on the wheel as he drove the two of you over the museum, where you were supposed to meet Gwen and Kevin for a mission. You had long stopped reprimanding him for not driving with both hands since he began throwing tantrums and claiming he couldn't focus if your fingers weren't intertwined with his free one.

The roads were empty at this time of night anyway.

"Hey, did Gwen talk to you about anything? Me, specifically?" Ben brought up and you immediately picked up on the slight squeeze of his hand in yours but didn't comment on it.

"Not lately, no. Is something wrong?"

Ben let out a relieved sigh, "Nope, nothing at all."

You raised a brow at this, staring at him with suspicious eyes. He eventually caught on to your prying gaze and immediately attempted to change the topic, pretending like you didn't notice his futile attempts to do so.

"That's a pretty necklace, where'd you get it?"

You rolled your eyes, watching as a cheeky grin grew on his face at your response. He was not hiding his giddiness very well, but how could he? You, his beautiful girlfriend, whom his cousin said was a monotonous emotionless dead-end (she didn't actually say this, but Ben was offended all the same), was wearing the necklace that he had gifted her.

It was fairly simple, a thin chain with a small pendant with a gemstone. He knew you wouldn't wear something that was flashy or too gaudy, so he settled for something he knew you'd like.

And the sight of you wearing the necklace even though you usually insisted that any accessories that weren't a part of the uniform could sometimes hinder the mission was completely worth the hours of time spent staring at different necklaces that all looked the same and troubling his mother for advice until she hurled a wet sponge at his head.

***

When he was responding to the distress signal on his Omnitrix at the museum, Ben wasn't expecting to get attacked by a bunch of ninja that seemed to appear out of nowhere before disappearing into thin air.

You stared at the green tablet in the crate as you wondered just where you had seen the artifact before.

"It's the Hands of Armageddon." You explained, going through your database quickly to pull up all the information the plumbers had on it, "It's an artifact that was secured by the plumbers more than 2 centuries ago. It's said to be a crosstime gateway created by the Chronians, but we have yet to prove that. It's virtually indestructible though. The Plumbers have had multiple attempts and they all resulted in mass disasters."

You turned to Gwen, "The vision you saw was probably an alternate dimension—"

"Right as always, young (Y/N)."

Before the flash of light behind you could even disappear, you were pointing a gun at it, only lowering it when you saw Paradox emerge through the blinding light, accompanied by someone you'd never met before and yet, still recognized.

"Who's your friend?"

Ben stared at him with apprehension before realization struck him, "Are you?"

The man responded with a startlingly deep voice, "That's right, Ben, I'm you—only even more awesome."

You were hardly surprised, the man before you was a splitting image of your boyfriend and you averted your gaze to hide the oncoming heat to your cheeks at the sight of his beard and his stronger build. He certainly grew up nicely.

Ben 10k and Professor Paradox didn't waste any time and began to explain just what problems the group of you had somehow managed to get stuck in once again. As the four of you heard their explanations, you heard a slight sound coming from the back of the museum.

"Shh."

Ben 10k raised a brow at you, opening his mouth to say something when you shushed him again, with a fierce glare this time. It was only a second more before you were swerving around to point your gun at another intruder, a woman this time, who was pointing her own gun at you.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, faced with an older version of yourself.

She looked like you, that much was obvious, but she was also different, much more womanly than you were, with more rounded curves and a more matured face.

Recognizing her younger self, the you from the future lowered her own gun and placed it back into her holster, taking a look around the room and registering just how many faces were there.

"What the hell is she doing here?!"

She raised a brow at him, lips pursed in annoyance, "Excuse me?"

Paradox sighed, "I apologize for this, Ben, but this involves her future as well."

He gritted his teeth in fury, rolling his eyes, "That's just great."

You spared a glance at your boyfriend, whose face had fallen so far it looked like he had just had his heart broken.

Gwen sighed, whispering something that had only been audible, to him and you watched as his face fell deeper, "I tried to warn you, Ben."

***

Professor Paradox was one of the most infuriating people in the entire universe. You had gathered as much since the first time you had the displeasure of meeting him, but he seemed intent on reminding you exactly why you disliked him.

He spoke in riddles, appeared and disappeared as he pleased, never made any sense but expected everyone to listen to him with no explanation whatsoever.

And so, it didn't help your opinion of him when the cargo hull of the jet began rumbling, signalling intruders, that he was all too quick to disappear without bothering to help fight them.

You cursed out his mother in your head as he vanished within a flash of light, pocket-watch in hand and a quippy remark on his lips.

The ninjas began appearing out of nowhere and despite there being the five of you, you were confined to a small space, and they multiplied like pests until the whole hull was full of them. It obviously didn't help that Ben 10k chose then to transform into humungousaur, taking up the remaining of what little space you had.

You didn't even have enough time to come up with a good strategy before you were being attacked with multiple opponents at the same time. It didn't take much to disarm one of them, now using their own swords to attack them.

There were too many and they just kept appearing. Your eyes bounced around the room, trying to figure out how to get the upper hand in such a cramped space.

Your older self, having the same idea, sprinted across the room, disarming as many soldiers around her as she could. Although, there was something odd about the way she moved.

She was at the same strength level as you were. After 20 years, shouldn't she be more adept than you were? Ben was capable of using his arsenal of powers without even transforming into any aliens, but she didn't display any remarkable feat of strength.

It was almost as though she wasn't able to. An injury perhaps? Maybe she was still recovering? You bit your lip, slashing the sword through another ninja. If you could find out what caused it, maybe you could prevent it from happening to you.

"Stay out of this, (Y/N)!" Ben 10k snarled, voice booming through the room and causing slight vibrations in the metal due to his size.

You paused for a second, sharing a glance with your boyfriend, who seemed equally surprised. Your future self, unbothered, continued to stampede through the other opponents until she reached the switch to the hangar and flipped it open.

Immediately the hangar opened, and you braced yourself, holding onto Ben's car that had been strapped down. Ben had the same idea, holding onto the handles and pressing his front against your back, making sure you were both anchored down.

The ninjas flew out of the jet, the vacuum of wind deeming too much for them and you watched them disappear, one by one, as they capsized through the air before the hangar door finally closed again.

"What the hell were you thinking?! That was so incredibly reckless—"

"Stop talking to her like that!" Your Ben interrupted his future self, wedging himself in between your future counterparts and glaring at him, "You're acting like an ass instead of apologizing! If I were you, I'd be on my knees begging for her to take me back!"

"Take me back? What are you—We're not broken up!"

Ben's eyes widened at this before he turned to your future self, "And you'd stay with someone who'd treat you like that?"

The woman in question sighed, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder, "Try not to be too upset, Ben. He's not usually like this. He's just mad—"

"I'm not mad at (Y/N)." Ben 10k argued, crossing his arms and everyone raised a brow, they clearly didn't believe him. Your future self merely gave him a blank stare before he caved.

"Alright fine, I'm mad at you." Hardly a surprise, "Need I remind you that we just left our son all alone at our home that was just attacked by a bunch of ninjas?"

Ben's jaw dropped open hearing that. Our son? He had a son? With the love of his life no less? This whole time he thought that there was nothing but disappointment and heartbreak for your future together but now he's finding out that he had a family with the girl he was in love with?

Funny that it was only this morning he was claiming that he was too young to be thinking of such things and yet, the thought had his heart swelling.

"I checked on him before we left, no one even made it to the hallway outside his room. Besides, when we go back, we'll be taken to the exact moment we left, not even a fraction of a second later. Kenny will be fine."

"It would be nice if you could show some concern at least." He huffed, "You're not even worried about the fact that we just left our newborn alone. All you're thinking about is this mission and you're putting yourself at risk."

Future you rolled her eyes, sighing as she took a seat on ship, "Here we go again."

"Oh, forgive me for worrying about my wife. Where do I get the audacity?" Her husband shot a glare at her.

Gwen's eyes flitted between the two of them, only able to see the similarities between their relationship in the future and also in the present. Her cousin apparently got married and started a family with the girl she didn't think was good enough for him.

Would Ben still not be able to see what a mistake he's making, even after a decade? Or was she the one who wasn't able to see clearly?

"(Y/N), you just gave birth five weeks ago and you haven't fully recovered. You're supposed to be taking it easy, not fighting some crazed time traveller. "

No wonder she was moving at a slower rate than usual, she was still in her post-partum recovery. For a woman who just spent the last 10 months of her life growing and then providing for a living, breathing human, she fought impressively well. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"Firstly, I can take care of myself. Secondly, Paradox didn't ask before zapping us back here."

"Fair enough but I want you to be on the sidelines for the remainder of the mission unless absolutely necessary." He folded his arms, giving a firm stare that meant he was being resolute. Your future self held his stare for a second before coming to the realization that not much would deter him.

She sighed, "Fine."

A pleased smile made its way to his face as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, "Excellent."

"You're a lot of work, Tennyson."

"Right back at you, Tennyson."

You spared a glance at your boyfriend, choosing to keep the information that you found his impish grin at the thought of a future with you adorable a secret and instead asked, "Did you really think that we had broken up in the future?"

His brows went toward his hairline, "You didn't? They were practically at each other's throats the whole time."

"Firstly, they're each wearing wedding rings, and second," You walked over to your future self, reaching for her collar and pulling out a familiar chain from underneath her shirt, "I saw this the second she got here."

Ben blushed, "You still wear it? It looks a little different though."

"I replaced the gem." She explained, toying with the pendant.

"Why?"

"It's her son's birthstone." "It's my son's birthstone." Both (Y/N)'s said in unison and the others gave you a bewildered stare.

"How'd you know?"

You shrugged, "Because that's something I would do."

***

Once again, you were all left in the middle of the desert at night after Paradox abandoned you one again and you continued your line of curses about his entire family in your head as you trudged back to the jet to call a team of plumbers to get you home as well as begin repairs to the jet that was damaged in the fight.

Kevin followed you closely to try and see if there was any way he could repair it just enough to get you back to Bellwood. Ben was about to enter as well when he was stopped by his cousin, who seemed sheepish enough that he immediately knew what the conversation was going to be about.

"I owe you an apology, Ben. I'm sorry for not trusting your judgment and for thinking the worst of you and (Y/N). You both make a cute couple."

He nodded, "It's okay, I didn't exactly have faith in my own relationship when I immediately concluded that they had broken up."

"I'm sure the conversation we had this morning didn't help either, don't feel too bad about it."

He nodded once again and they dissolved back into silence before she gave him a teasing smile, "So, a son, huh?"

His cheeks went warm, and he gave her a look mixed with both embarrassment and a little bit of pride, scratching the back of his neck with a meek chuckle, "Yeah, I always pictured myself as a girl dad though."

Her grin went even wider, and she laughed, "I thought you said you were too young to think about things like this?!"

***

*Exactly Twenty Years Later*

Ben peeked his head into the nursery to greet his beautiful son that was most likely asleep after being fed and changed, only to find the room empty and crib missing.

His mind knew that if his son wasn't in his crib then he would obviously be in the arms of his mother and yet, as he sped to your shared bedroom, he felt a slight panic thrum through his veins.

Everyone had brought this to his attention time and time again; that he had become extremely high-strung when it came to his family. Especially since you had gotten pregnant. It was only when his son was on the way did he realize just how fragile everything was and how quickly it could be ripped away from him.

He passed his arm over the sensor at your door, it immediately recognizing the signal from his Omnitrix and unlocking the door before entering, finding you settled on your bed, Kenny clutched close to your heart.

You watched him cross the bedroom in long strides and settle on the mattress beside you, saying nothing about the clear distress that you had seen on his face when the door opened before it was flooded with relief. You understood; you had felt the same way, which is why you had rolled your son's crib into your bedroom so you could keep a close eye on him for the rest of the night.

You turned your gaze back to the baby in your arms, gently tracing his features with the tip of your pinkie finger, watching with a deep fondness and adoration as Kenny's little face would scrunch up every time you caressed his button nose.

"He's okay, right?" Your husband questioned, needing your reassurance for the last bit of worry for his son to evaporate.

"You think I'd be sitting here without a care in the world if he wasn't?" You murmured, not lifting your eyes from his precious face.

Ben chuckled at this, "Yeah, like that time he got the hiccups, and you couldn't sleep the entire night because you kept checking on him in four-minute intervals?"

"What if his little diaphragm got fatigued?" You mumbled; brows furrowed at the thought. Constant hiccups were painful to deal with as an adult, you could only imagine how painful it would be for a baby who didn’t know what the pain was or how to communicate his pain to his parents.

Ben didn’t respond, already having been through this conversation with you the very night it happened.

The two of you continued to watch your son in silence, finding every single little breath he took interesting as you continued to graze your finger over his skin, now tracing the outline of his little lips, the bottom lip tucked tightly into his mouth as he slept.

Ben shifted closer to you, taking the two of you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the side of your head as one of his arms came to support yours and bear the weight of your son as well.

"I'm sorry for saying that you didn't care about Kenny and only the mission. I know you worry about him more than you express, and I appreciate everything you do for the both of us."

"You were just lashing out of worry." You replied, leaning against him, "It was the first time we both left our home without him, even though we didn't technically leave him alone for a second. I felt uneasy about it as well."

"Regardless, I shouldn't have said that you didn't care, Kenny and I know you love us."

"I do."

You quietened down immediately when your son took a big breath, slightly stirring before he fell back asleep, the littlest smile on his little face.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

[moon-ayyye]

I saw a few asks that revolved around all caste Jason or just the all blades and I just wanted to share a very self indulgent hcs and would like to hear your thoughts on them:

1.) Jason having the white hair streak but there is no definite origin for them but rather a clusterfuck of reasons. A form of Marie-Antoinette syndrome perhaps, perhaps perhaps the all caste and such. Nobody really knows. I mention this because I thing is would be very cool if like. When Jason takes out the all blades in fire situations, his mostly black hair suddenly becomes a shock of all white hair (I’m debating if he should have a streak of black hair, like a reversal of his color palette perhaps). It’s kind of like an Acheron from Honkai Star Rail situation. Jason assumes it has something to do with the all caste but it doesn’t explain him having it before he joined them. It’s a mystery to them

2.) I actually saw this from somewhere and I really enjoyed it so I incorporated elements of it into my own world building but the all blades affect how he perceives the wold and he has tricky feelings in regards to it. Something something about the all blades being able to detect too things: the weight of someone’s evil + their ability to repent. Jason only sees the full picture when he’s got the blades out, which is rarely. However he can sense things about someone and figures it worth investigating depending on how intense the pull is for justice. The flipside is that the all blades doesn’t care about human sentiments and will see the evil in anything. Even in children and animals and it does not fully coincide with Jason’s own morals. It simply connects to his righteous justice and his capability to bring about that change—not his empathy. It makes his feelings about it all fucky whucky

3.) Jason’s body is already fucky whucky after coming back to life because of resurrection, non all caste related. Some of these examples in my mind is: *much* slower heart rate, inhuman levels of strength (not enough to be a super meta, but something about being undead removing him from a few restraints that exist when you’re alive. But also the cosmic nature of him coming back means he’s not getting all the undead enchancements. For example he can use strength that surpasses any human capability by a certain range depending on how desperate he is, but it’s tied to adrenaline. He also can destroy all his limbs if he uses too much force cause he’s still Ina. Human body. So he uses it very sparingly). Anyways long story short. When he has the all blades out, because the blades are his soul and his soul is no longer in his body, he is capable of being much more stronger, faster, and sharper because his body and soul are not limited to anything. His consciousness is his soul and his body is the vehicle of justice. That being said this can only happen for very short amounts of time because the longer his soul is out of his body the harder it is to stay tethered and he will probably die. Or be stuck in limbo and that is not fun

Sorry for word vomiting all over your inbox I hope that this finds you well

No need to apologise. These are really good!. I'll address my takes on each one:

1) I headcanon that the white streak is actually the mark of the All Caste, and it disappears when he draws them out. The opposite of what you said. If I'm reading a crossover fic with danny Phantom, then yeah, having full white hair with a black streak is an amazing design in my eyes. If you want, it could also be like a kiss of death; lady death feels strongly connected to Jason and so marked him as one of hers. That way, it also works as being independent from the All Caste while explaining away how he keeps coming back. To me, Superboy Prime's punch didn't directly bring him back, but it created enough leway for Death to be able to revive him.

2) I actually really like this headcanon. Being completely free of evil is impossible due to human nature, so it's always more of a spectrum than a binary system. It would be triggered heavily around people like the flashes due to the deaths they caused by fucking with the timestream (ie flashpoint), or members of the JLD, specifically Jason Blood, Constantine, and Raven. You could have him battle that instead of pit madness. Also a bonus, if you like JJ!Tim and the fanonised version of the attack on TT, you can have it so Jason attacks Tim because he's the next potential candidate for the joker, so that's what triggers Jason into beating him. Him being JJ in other universes sort of stains his aura so to speak.

3) Jason has canonically punched a hole in the hull of a submarine that's under water. This definitely has merit. In my mind, since Jason pulls out his soul, Cass and Shiva can't read him because his body isn't thinking. It's acting. It's kind of like Richard Dragon's ability. It being a short burst makes sense, but I also like it when Jason just becomes less and less human over time. He starts looking like Essence; pure white pale skin, black eyes, and whispy white hair. It starts as a short burst, but over time, he can maintain that form for longer until, eventually, decades later, he's just always like that. Also the slower heart rate is such an interesting idea. Sometimes he forgets to breathe, or goes weeks without eating, and he doesn't realise it because his body is, as you aptly described it, fucky whucky.

If you have any more headcanons please send them my way, these were really fucking good.

[averageallogene]

You sister, who always have had everything she wanted, isn't happy Ayato chose to marry you.

So, on your wedding day, she sneaks into the groom's preparation room to try and convince him to marry her instead.

Ayato ♡⊹˚ Familial woes (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst with a good ending. cw for toxic family relationships.

4k words.

notes. I just cannot write something that isn’t past 3k words SORRY LMAO. But anyway, so it begins~ Thank you for all the wonderful ideas, I will do my best to write out each scenario in due time! Sorry if it isn't as angsty, if that's the case I'll try to make up with the others... I hope I do Ayato justice in this one <3.

Since I'm back home these prompts will be written on my laptop, hence the fancier formatting. Anyway, Enjoy! ✧˖°.

Coming from a prestigious clan has its ups and downs, yet [F/N] has managed to withstand most obstacles that appeared in her wake. Despite not being one of the tri-commissions, her family was held in the highest regards, including herself as the eldest daughter of the clan. Thankfully however, despite all the restrictions her lifestyle imposed upon her, she still had one good thing on her side - having an elder brother, she wouldn’t have to inherit all the pressure he did. It sounded dismissive, she herself knew so, yet the heart wants what it wants. And even for someone as self-disciplined and honorable as she, surely she could indulge, couldn’t she?

[F/N] had worked hard for her reputation, ensuring her clan kept its prestigious namesake whilst strengthening the bonds with other houses that would prove to become fruitful. With negotiation came alliances, and with alliances the stability of Inazuma was kept. Above all else, she knew, much like her brother, that this was what was to be first and foremost on their priority list. Two of the three children of their house upheld such responsibilities, save for their youngest sister. She, who didn’t have many expectations to her name when compared to her siblings, ended up living a much more desirable lifestyle - in short, she was pampered throughout her life, the apple of their father’s eye. Even in his deathbed, she was promised much more of their share, given everything to the palm of her hand whilst the other siblings were expected to simply cope with such reality. Even when their brother would inherit the Clan as well as all its responsibilities, both felt as though she had won in conquering their parents’ hearts.

[F/N] managed relatively well. Even as her sister grew up taking the spotlight from her whenever she got an ounce of attention, even as she had to work thrice as hard to receive a crumb of the recognition her siblings would get from their parents, she acted with grace that only corresponded with everyone’s expectations. An example of a noble young lady, she was perceived as. Even as her heart would often ache, anger boiling just underneath the surface, she covered it down as the long sleeve of her kimono would hide her bitter expression. She could deal with her sister, she had to. Years of hiding her distaste resulted in a skill that would prove useful in the future, [F/N] becoming able to hide her true emotions rather well. 

Their brother ruled their household impeccably, perhaps more so than even their father had while he still lived. [F/N] was there to aid whenever needed, it being mostly to advise him on important decisions and to communicate with their allies whilst he tended to his other duties. And being good with people, she performed her obligations rather well, becoming well acquainted with many important people and even forming friendly bonds with some. One of these was none other than the Kamisatos, including their young daughter of whom [F/N] doted on. In her, she’d found the younger sister she’d always wanted, offering her advice whenever needed, as well as sometimes offering her the company she craved - at least, whenever their busy schedules would allow them to. [F/N] had watched Ayaka grow from within, pride beaming in her chest as she became a fine young lady herself. It was of most importance for them to support one another, knowing full well how stressful their positions could be; it made their lives a little more bearable, knowing they had the support of someone outside of their immediate family. 

It was through this growing friendship that [F/N] became acquainted with Ayato, Ayaka’s enigmatic older brother and the ruler of the Kamisato household. Much more distant and calculating, it was seemingly difficult to come closer to his heart as the man held most within arm’s reach. Still, [F/N] remained cordial, not expecting much to blossom from there. Friendly interactions were more than enough, keeping the alliance of their clans alive. 

To Ayato however, it was much different. His experienced eyes watched, blue gaze lingering on the finely dressed figure as she often hid her elegant expression with her long sleeves. He noticed how she smiled without much light whenever she was within her clan’s walls, contrasting vividly when compared with how her expressions were genuine whenever accompanied with Ayaka and even Thoma. Ayato noted how she genuinely cared for his sister, offering her wise advice when regarding personal matters he could only figure weren’t of his caliber. And later, a few springs later, he studied how she’d come by more and more often, seemingly seeking refuge within the Kamisato residence whenever her position would allow. To Ayato, [F/N] wasn’t difficult to figure out, yet he couldn’t help but begin worrying for his sister’s friend.

“Thoma,” He’d beckoned his housekeeper, watching as he quickly obliged and approached. Even as he read through the stack of papers, he carried on the conversation. “Ayaka has expressed interest in inviting miss [F/N] over for the evening, yet is there any particular reason for it?”

“Oh,” He sighed out briefly, expression furrowing slightly as he gave his Lord a crack of a sympathetic smile. “Lady [F/N] has been quite down recently, so my Lady wished to offer her a safe space to rest for as long as needed. I-Is that something she should reconsider, my Lord?”

Ayato simply shook his head. “No, it’s quite alright by me; I just couldn’t help notice how she’s been coming over more often. Now, Miss [F/N]’s presence is more than welcomed, of course, yet I wondered how come she seems so gloomy these past few days.”

“Nothing seems to escape you, my Lord,” Thoma chuckled out, before sheepishly offering him an explanation. “Lady [F/N] has a… Rather tumultuous relationship with her siblings, more so with her sister. Apparently, she recently ruined [F/N]’s engagement to a wealthy noble of another house, and her brother did little else but attempt to brush everything under the rug before their reputation were to be stained. She’s been understandably annoyed by the situation, expressing anguish that her sister wasn’t properly punished.”

Ayato’s expression faltered ever so slightly, his hand lowering the paper he read. He’d heard of the news, as gossip traveled fast throughout Narukami. Yet he surely hadn’t heard of the ever so slightly important detail of her younger sister being the cause of such a ruckus. In all honesty, the Commissioner had simply thought she’d been the one to break off the engagement, rightfully so in his mind - they simply had little in common, so there was little chance of the marriage succeeding in the first place. 

“I see… If you happen to see her later, please inform her that she can remain here as long as she wishes.” He finished off with a small smile, accompanied with the dismissal of his friend before resuming his duties. 

It felt bad to overstay their hospitality, yet [F/N] found it difficult to refuse. Not after her anger made her nearly explode, as well as watching as her brother dismissed her more than justified anger. She’s just never going to change, he’d reasoned as to why he didn’t even punish her for meddling in her engagement, practically telling her to move on. In truth, [F/N] couldn’t exactly say she loved her fiancé, but he certainly wasn’t a bad match, at least from the little she knew of him. Well mannered, good temperament, friendly enough, a reputation similar to their own. Honestly, it had felt like she’d hit the jackpot when considering she would most definitely be married off to whomever her brother thought was the most ideal choice. She’d just gotten her mind set that he would be her husband, and her sister just had to insert herself in between them and whisk him away for her own satisfaction. [F/N] was forced to watch as he was wooed by her beauty and charms, becoming nothing short of her boytoy and wallet as she was pitied as the disgraced woman who was abandoned. Gossip was cruel, and she wished nothing more than to remain hidden away in the Kamisato Estate for a little while. 

Ayato received letters, [F/N]’s brother inquiring of her whereabouts as well as demanding her return. Amidst his pile of papers they were just too easy to lose, shrugging his shoulders as he feigned ignorance. Ayaka’s and Thoma’s presence were great in helping her cope, her mind forgetting the trash fire of a family she had for a little more than three weeks. However amidst the duties she had to do, as well as the way she would often give her brother advice on which decisions to make, her presence was beginning to weigh in her clan’s house.

“I should probably return soon,” [F/N] had sighed as she sat on their courtyard, Thoma offering her his company as he served her tea. “My brother will probably make a foolish decision without me there to weigh in the options.”

The blond man chuckled, passing her the fine ceramic cup. “It’s a shame, Miss [F/N]. Your presence in the Kamisato Household is a breath of fresh air, after all.”

“Thank you Thoma, I’ll most definitely miss being in such a peaceful place.” Her gaze turned to the distance, watching with melancholy the beautiful view their courtyard offered.

“You’re always welcome to stay for longer.” Ayato’s voice was suddenly heard, the pair turning to him as he made his way across the wooden floors to the table where they sat.

“Oh,” [F/N] breathed out, head lowering in respect. “Lord Kamisato, I-”

“Please, no need for such formalities. You may just call me Ayato” He offered her a small smile, one seemingly genuine enough as his eyes glimmered with the sunlight. “A friend of Ayaka’s is a friend of my own. She holds you in the highest regard, you know?”

[F/N]’s face bloomed with a lovely shade of pink, nervously laughing as she looked down. “Oh, that girl… She’s just too kind.”

“Are you insinuating she’s overselling your qualities, Miss [F/N]?” He teased, watching with humor as her face contorted in hesitancy and horror. 

“What? No, of course not- No, I mean-”

“Perchance she wishes to play matchmaker?” His smile grew more sly, finding her stuttering at his remark quite adorable. 

Thoma chuckled quietly, watching the two of them as he rather awkwardly stood there. “My Lord, please…”

“Right, I jest.” Ayato let out in a breathless chuckle, ceasing for the time being as he watched her expression soothe back, the blush still very well present. “Still, Miss [F/N]. You are more than welcome to return, if your family ever causes another ruckus.”

Her genuine smile looked beautiful, her sleeve not covering her face as she would’ve often done during their first encounters. It had been enough to engrave itself on Ayato’s mind, even as she returned to her family estate to once more fulfill her duties.

It was the beginning of something more. No longer did [F/N] visit the Kamisatos for Ayaka and Thoma, she now visited to see Ayato, as well. Even when he wasn’t there to see her, which happened more often than she’d like, she would still inquire how he was doing, hoping he’d be alright and not overworking. Her care for him was endearing, and Ayato found himself making small excuses every so often to leave his working station, wishing to welcome [F/N] to their estate instead and indulge in a philosophical conversation, or perhaps even a game of shogi. Under the blooming sakuras they would converse, and despite the apparent fleeting moments they were, those closest to Ayato could definitely notice the slight shifts in his demeanor - the Commissioner was, after all, not one to allow many into his heart, yet his soft spot for [F/N] was as obvious as it could be. 

Suspicion was quick to rise, especially for [F/N]’s siblings. However, [F/N]’s obliviousness was what boiled her brother’s frustrations, wondering if the Commissioner simply sought a plaything in his sister and not something serious. His hurries to find a match for her were in vain though, for just as he believed the answer was in reach, the news came to him through one of his many advisors - one aside from his sister, of course.

“M-My Lord, that might not be a good idea.” The older man stuttered, before breaking the news that was believed to be obvious. “Lord Kamisato is courting Lady [F/N], after all.”

In truth, it had blindsighted [F/N], for she couldn’t believe it for quite a while. Having developed a small crush on the Commissioner, she’d hastily reminded herself it would never develop into anything more. After all, her status required her to marry for benefit first and foremost, and something as worthless as love wasn’t in a noble’s interest. In his place, however, Ayato thought it was just the perfect arrangement - he was not only going to court someone he deeply cared for, their alliance would prove more than beneficial. His opponent, ahem, [F/N]’s brother, would have no rational argument against their marriage. 

The news was quick to spread across the land of lightning, and everyone was ecstatic for the Yashiro Commissioner. Ayato was a fine young man, an even finer leader, and his marriage to someone of such a high status as [F/N] was bound to please most. Like he’d calculated, despite not being how it was planned, her brother had no possible way of opposing his request to marry his sister. Ayato was, after all, in a higher rank than their own clan was. It was an honor, something he could not refuse. 

And as such, [F/N]’s future was bound with Ayato’s, and she couldn’t be happier. Their relationship progressed quickly, and even before their wedding, he arranged for her personal belongings to be promptly brought to the Kamisato Estate, where she would live. He couldn’t be more dismissive for appearing to go too fast, far too worried to finally bring [F/N] away from the pressure and unhealthy behaviors of her siblings. 

One who was far too flabbergasted by such turns of events was none other than her sister, the very same woman who’d taken her previous fiancé to only ditch him after she’d squeezed him for most that he was worth. She’d noticed the smile [F/N] had directed to her before leaving their Estate for good, escorted by samurai issued by her fiancé before turning her back to her. A sense of humiliation had overcome her, never having quite liked the bitter taste of defeat. To her envious gaze, it felt as though [F/N] had won for the first time in her life, and she wasn’t going to let her win the war.

The Kamisatos were more than courteous whenever [F/N]’s sister requested to visit. Ayaka was especially hesitant, yet Ayato let her come by without much trouble, assuring his lover he’d never allow her to cross any boundary. There was a certain distance between them, and [F/N] had no reason to ever doubt her lover. Her friends were all suspicious of her motives, watching as she blatantly faked happiness for her sister.

“You’ve ended up in great hands, big sister!” She’d praise, her voice dripping with hidden venom as she gazed around the luxurious estate. “You’re very lucky, you know?”

“Yes, I’m fully aware.” [F/N] would answer calmly, Ayato watching with amusement as she gave her a forced smile. 

“No, I do believe I’m the luckier one here.” Ayato would intervene, publicly choosing to lace his hand with her own, soothing his lover’s anger all the while studying the way her sister’s expression shifted. It was his own way of assuring he was serious about his decision, yet that seemed to, regrettably, only fuel the fire within that devil of a siren.

Preparations were underway, and before long, the day had finally arrived. Her sister’s attempts at wooing Ayato had fallen in deaf’s ears, the man feigning ignorance as his gaze was focused on none other than his fiancée. It was comical to watch as she quietly grew desperate to win the feud, yet at the same time it only brought on more anger and awkwardness to those around them. In his place, however, Ayato simply waited, knowing exactly well when an enemy wished to strike. He’d kissed his bride before leaving to prepare for the ceremony, quite curious to see her in the bridal wear that had been arranged for her as he himself was prepared. 

There was still some time before the ceremony would begin, and as such he stood in the present room, making sure he looked presentable enough for his own wedding. He breathed in slowly, finishing arranging his sleeves before hearing as the shoji doors opened behind him.

“Ah, Thoma is that you?” He called out, before turning to watch as a familiar figure eyed him. His expression shifted to slight surprise, watching as [F/N]’s sister carefully walked after closing the door behind her. “Oh, apologies for the confusion. Anything I can help you with?”

“Lord Kamisato…” Her voice lowered softly, approaching him as she fluttered her eyelashes slowly. Her kimono dripped from her shoulder slightly, a clear attempt at seduction being ployed as he remained still, not engaged in the slightest by her attempt. “Actually, there is something you may help me with.”

“Oh really?” He hummed, uninterested as he deployed all the remaining patience he had for the girl before him. With a small sigh he continued. “Then do speak, what is it.”

She came closer, uncomfortably so, her body pressing against his as she placed her hands against his chest. Giving him a concerned look, her expression twisted as she sighed dramatically, shaking her head as she voiced her opinion to him.

“My Lord, I simply cannot watch someone of your own stature marry someone as… Rowdy, and unworthy, as my sister.” She nearly wept, grasp holding onto him tighter before she continued. “She wishes nothing more than to use you to benefit our own house, she has no consideration for anyone regarding herself.”

“That is… Quite the accusation.” His voice grew cooler, arm lifting to carefully pry her away from himself. His hold was quick, as if dusting himself off of unwanted dirt, giving himself distance between the two of them before he continued. 

“I wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t true, my Lord.” She dared lie to his face, eyebrows furrowing before she stated she had proof. Ayato scoffed inside his head, watching with hidden amusement as she reached into the cleavage of her kimono to reveal a folded piece of paper. “Please, see for yourself.”

Deciding to humor her for a moment, Ayato picked up the letter, carefully unfolding it before having a quick read. Presenting itself as a love letter to another man, [F/N] apparently spoke of her plans to quickly dispose of Ayato after their wedding, inheriting most of the fortune before quickly disappearing with the lover to whom the letter was concerned. She bit her lip in her place, watching as he read it through before she came closer once more.

“She’s not worthy of you, my Lord.” She placed her hands onto his chest again, head resting against him as she eyed up at him. “She wouldn’t ever love you as someone like you deserves… Please, reconsider this before it’s too late. Consider someone that would treat you right… Like me.”

His gaze shifted, calculating and apparently still processing the information. Thinking she’d caught him in the perfect moment, she continued, hand sliding upwards his chest as she locked eyes with him.

“Lord Kamisato, unlike her, I would support you like a dutiful wife should. I would be able to bring much more to the table, and I’m certain my brother would much rather have our union take place. [F/N] simply wouldn’t know how to please anyone as a wife-”

“I’ve heard enough.” He cut her short, his expression fading to reveal a scowl, a raw portrayal of his emotions for once. His hand was quick to grip her wrist, yanking her away from him with enough care as to not hurt her, but still bringing his point across. He watched as her face shifted to surprise, now her being the one caught off guard. “In fact, I’ve had enough of you.”

“B-But, my Lord-”

“Silence.” His voice grew louder, watching as she flinched in her place. Ayato’s hand shook the measly forged paper she’d given him as proof, scoffing in her face. “If you truly believed a simple forged letter and your word would be enough to deter me from my fiancée, you insult me even more than what I had originally thought.” 

“Are you suggesting I’m lying?!” She gasped with hurt, Ayato curtly replying.

“Precisely what I’m insinuating. Forgive me for believing my fiancée instead of her meddling sister who cannot for the life of her be content for her flesh and blood.” It was his turn to approach her retreating figure, his voice growing harsher as he finally snapped on his lover’s behalf. “Now listen, and listen carefully for I will only warn you once.”

Her eyes widened as her lips trembled, suddenly feeling much smaller when in front of his imposing figure. Never would she have thought someone would speak to her in such a way, rendering her riddled with fear to even attempt to think of an argument. Ayato’s cold presence felt suffocating, leaving her in an hesitant state to even attempt to leave her current predicament.

“I’ve been long enough with [F/N] to know of your true intentions, and they don’t carry a single ounce of goodness. You only covet what isn’t yours, and I cannot even describe how I despise people like you. Those who cannot be happy for those who are closest to them are the absolute worst of people, and I want nothing to do with you aside from the formalities our clans require from us. I will only be cordial to you whenever others are around, so lest you want me to give you a new one, only appear before me when there are others around me. Understood?”

“I-I… I…” She couldn’t even bring her words out, Ayato repeating if she’d heard him. “Y-Yes-” She hiccuped.

“Good. Now, you will attend this wedding, and you will be on your best behavior. If you have nothing good to say to my wife, I do not want you anywhere near her. Now begone from my sight.”

Ayato had never watched anyone scurry away from him in such a pathetic state, sighing in frustration as he rubbed his fingers against his temple.

“Goodness. What a brat.” He murmured under his breath, the sudden cough catching him off guard.

“I knew it couldn’t be good the moment I heard my Lord raise his voice…” Thoma awkwardly chuckled, bringing him a freshly brewed cup of tea to soothe any possible nerves.

“Ah, so you’ve heard.” Ayato sighed, promptly thanking him for the tea before taking it carefully. “Do not speak a word of this to [F/N], yes?”

“I heard nothing.” Thoma nodded his head with a kind smile, offering him to adjust any creases of his ceremonial garbs before the wedding were to begin.

Despite the hushed incident, the wedding went on without any kind of drama or dispute. [F/N] was honestly surprised, noticing how her sister remained in her seat, eyes averting the happy couple as her brother forced her to indeed attend the ceremony, instead of ditching it like she would’ve preferred. After all, he didn’t want any ill will between the two clans, and without knowing of what she had done, he saw no reason as to why she shouldn’t attend.

“She’s been awfully quiet…” [F/N] had whispered to Ayato, who’d given her his ear as he’d tilted his head to her. Glancing back to see her sister remaining on her seat rather angrily, she glanced back at her now husband with a narrowing gaze. “What did you do?”

“Me?” He feigned ignorance, though his enigmatic smile gave it away. “I only asked her cordially to enjoy our wedding.” He justified himself, his hold on her hand tightening as his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

[F/N] could only shake her head, her bright smile being something Ayato wouldn’t do just about anything to protect. She sighed quietly, a silent thank you being given to him as she was now able to enjoy the rest of their wedding alongside him, together starting a new chapter as a strong and prosperous couple.

Needless to say, [F/N] found a great amount of joy in sharing with her family every little bit of good news she had, watching with pleasure as her sister festered in her unfounded jealousy she’d brought on herself. Ah, including the surprising, albeit still more than welcomed, pregnancy that soon followed their wedding, of course.

[clearheartsgreyflowerss]

Hold still please~

Ningguang x artist!fem!reader

Synopsis- you finally get Ningguang to sit down and let you paint a portrait of her!

. She hasn't been able to get off work for a while, but with lots of persistent reminders, you finally got her to tell Baishi to clear her schedule for an entire day

. Of course she feels bad she couldn't do this sooner, so she gets you both beautiful matching necklaces, and she insists she "got it for the portrait" but you knew she felt guilty (and she also just loves giving you things that show you two are together <3)

. After breakfast, you both head to your artists studio, which ningguang built as soon as possible, as you were always special to her, as a business partner before, but now also as her girlfriend

. You sit her down quickly and almost immediately get to work, she couldn't help but be memorized with your work ethic, it was truly incredible

. Of course as soon as you get done with the base details, you start relaxing a little, a smile comes on your face and you start chatting with ningguang, all the little things that you two so rarely get to chat about.

. She told you about some of the people she met while traveling to the recently open inazuma, and you told her about the new friend you made when you were at the market!

. When you finally call a break at about lunch time, you snap out of what ningguang likes to call your "artists trance" and you realize just how lovingly ningguang had been looking at you this whole time, your painting could never do justice to that look in her eyes, and the way she reserved that carefree smile only for you.

. The both of you ate lunch pretty quickly, and while ningguang presumed you were just excited to get back to painting, you had other plans in mind

. She sat back down in the chair she was sitting in for the portrait, only for you to quickly join on top of her, pressing your lips to hers

. Of course she didn't mind, who is she to stop you from taking what's yours? She quickly reciprocated, putting her hand on your waist, and wrapping the other one up in your hair

. She kept you like that for a few minutes, gasping for air for a moment before bringing you back in, and when she pulls away for the last time, she notices the stain that always accompanies her kisses, and laughed a little, she enjoyed leaving a little mark on you, even if you would soon wipe it away.

. Of course you got off her lap sooner rather than later, after all, you only had today to complete this, you were going to do it

. The time slowly went by the rest of the day, you took another small break for dinner and then finished the portrait around 10 that night, and while the both of you were exhausted from painting and posing, you and her were both satisfied with how it turned out, after all, you were the greatest painter in all of Liyue

. She rewarded you that night with even more kisses once the both of you were in your pajamas (and you finally noticed the lipstick stain still left on your lips from Ningguang's kisses) and you realized just how lucky you were to have ningguang at your side <3

First fic done! I absolutely adore ningguang, and honestly I've wanted to write this for a while (as it's a complete self insert, everything in this is me indulging in my silly little fantasies)

Anyway anyone seeing this, I just want to let you know my requests are open! I'm currently taking other genshin requests, so feel free to ask away!

I hope you all have a good day/night :D

Daily click to help those in Palestine

[ravishinglavishingluvr]

i <3 flustered bob

a/n: i've developed this top gun obsession and i decided i have a crush on bob. so naturally, i wrote this with bob floyd in mind. like imagine how red and wide-eyed this baby would go. this was very self-indulgent. got me drooling and giggling like a menace fr :D hope you enjoy!! ik it's nowhere near marauder stuff but i do what i want <3

warnings: mentions of smut, tattoos, horny bob lmao, gn!reader, not edited!!

"hey bobby, i'm going to the shops in a bit. do you wanna go with me?" you ask as you dig for a shirt in your wardrobe. bob trails behind you into your shared bedroom. his eyes widen as he sees you getting undressed, mouth gaping.

"uh- um, yeah. yeah, okay." he tries to avert his gaze but all attempts fail when the tattoo running down the length of your back catches his attention. the dark ink and its beautiful swirls and shadows between your shoulder blades make his mouth run dry. immediately, his mind leads him to dark thoughts and dirty memories of what the two of you do together. he stares at the dip that runs down the centre of your back and recalls the image of your chest pressed flat to the mattress and your gorgeous tattoo on display just for him. he knows the moans you let out as he fucks you all too well.

bob licks his lips and tries to even his breathing as he feels his jeans begin tighten around his crotch. he closes his eyes as if to calm himself down but the image of your naked back as he takes you from behind is tattooed on the back of his eyelids. with a mind of its own, his hand snakes down to cup his crotch through his jeans. no no no he shouldn't.

"bobby baby?" you call out. "bob are you listening to me?"

the sound of his name draws him away from his thoughts. his head whips up to catch you giving him a knowing look. he gapes like a fish at first, "huh? oh, yeah i'm listening sweetheart." the way you're looking at him makes him feel like he's melting inside, and an easy smile takes hold of his lips.

"really?" you both knew he was lying. "what were you thinking about, baby?"

his eyes waver. he can't admit to you that he was having such dirty thoughts about you at 2pm on a tuesday. let alone that the sight of your naked back got him so flustered, it's pathetic.

he meets your eyes one more time, "i um- how much i like your tattoo," he murmurs.

"oh, yeah?"

"mhm," he nodded like an eager puppy.

"good, because it's all for you anyway," you smirked and tilted your head. giving him a teasing wink as he fumbled and struggled to hold eye contact with you. and the laugh you let out made him shake his head as his ears warmed. you loved making him flustered, it wasn't an easy feat. bob was always ready with a quick remark to send you to embarrassment and submission. but for once you were able to override the dominating power he had over you. god it felt good to turn him into a flustered mess choking on their words.

your smirk broke into a wide, adoring smile, "c'mon, bobby." you moved towards him, fully dressed, and looped your arm around his. "let's get going, yeah? wanna make you a nice dinner f'tonight."

bob gave you a curt nod and fell into step with you, "whatever you want, sweetheart." looking up at him one more time as you made your way to the front door, you smiled and stroked his bicep with your thumb. he was already looking at you, but quickly averted his gaze and reached for the door handle.

[sevi007]

hello! hello! a lot of people seem to be finding you now and i am also one of those peeps (may of just realised you haveva tumblr). i have read your coffee & mayhem series a couple of times now and i've got to say i love it! it's so well written from just robotnik and stone as their own individual characters to how they're written together, how their relationship develops and also how they clash. all of it is done beautifully <3.

got to say my favourite one is the prequel to the entire series! how stone becomes interested in him and tries his best to work for robotnik because he's interesting is so delightful! freak4freak perhaps...and then there's also robotnik who just adds a random liquid to drinks for fun and ends up food poisoning him and stone just let's him. it's hilarious to me. it also shows you can write them so well separately and together. even when they're not in a relationship you've written them beautifully and that's truly a feat!

i can't wait to hear your thoughts and opinions and writing about sonic 3 as well as the dynamic between gerald and ivo! the robotniks are truly heartbreaking! i saw sonix 3 twice and their relationship got me each time :(.

anyways this is getting long but i just wanted to say you're an inspiration <3 i want to write my own stobotnik fics one day and seeing you doing it and making a whole series out of it is so amazing!

okay okay that's all. have a good day or night or whatever time it is for you && keeping doing you!

Hello hello!

Whu, I thought I had advertised my blog in my fics... but it's entirely possible that I meant to but forgot, I'm that scatterbrained lol

Anyway, hi, happy to have you! I've been a bit radio silent on here and uh, actually, everywhere to be fair, but I will attempt to do better again now ^^

And, thank you so much for the compliments! I'm always delighted to read that people enjoy my take on these two geniuses - idiots? - this much! Never thought that would happen when I decided to write what was supposed to be a One-Shot... now we see how good my self control is!

The prequel is, possibly, my most self-indulgent piece of the entire bunch, and that's saying something. I had read the Pre-Quill at that point, and just had that unshakable thought that to be able to "keep up" with Robotnik - to be able to understand him, work for him, actually work with his manifesto - Stone would have to be a bit crazy, a lot smarter than the movies actually show, and extremely determined to stay in this job / by Robotnik's side. I couldn't find anything that really satisfied my need to read all that, there were a lot of delightful takes of them both and how they started working together, but I had that thought that Stone was the driving force there, not Robotnik - because why would Robotnik want an assistant, he hates people - so I sat down and wrote all that myself. In, like, two days. I am also a bit crazy and obsessed sometimes, though much more harmless than those two, I promise. XD

By now, I have been sent approximately ten links to websites and google drives to watch the movie, and I managed to watch a very good bootleg version of the movie yesterday. I cried, laughed a whole lot, cried some more, and got back to writing immediately afterwards. It's definitely my favorite of the three movies! I think by now I have written about 20k since Saturday, in three differents WIPs so far, so I PROMISE you all will get to read my take on what happened before, after and during the movie. Maybe even more in detail than any of you wanted to, lmao.

(and, hey. You could never send a message too long, honest. I am delighted to hear from you guys, even if I am as slow as a snail in answering sometimes. Take it from someone who wrote 286k and counting about one pairing - i have NO GROUND at all to say someone writes too much XD)

Thanks for the reaching out and making my day. Hope I will see you on the new fics! =D

[honeekyuu]

hi! this is my first time sending in an ask, i don't really know much about tumblr etiquette so i'm really sorry if i do this wrong. i've recently read a lot of your work, in particular all your chubby reader series and honestly i can't keep quiet about it. i'm not sure if you write from experience when it comes to a chubby reader, but the fics of yours i read really reflected some of the more subtle and less talked about experiences of growing up fat that i never really see, these little details that really hit close to home that i had never been able to bring myself to properly acknowledge out of shame for my own body and the experiences i had growing up this way. there were so many little things you wrote in that made me stop and put a hand over my mouth because it felt like the words were turning into a mirror. seeing the same exact what-ifs, and body issues, and intimacy issues that often keep me up at night being represented in your writing makes me feel something very difficult to explain, but the simplest way i can describe it is gratitude. i had never really brought myself to care too much about this kind of representation because when it happens, people usually get it wrong. a lot of fat characters are commonly written with a glaring flaw where their whole personalities revolve around their fatness, like they are not granted the same complexities other kinds of characters are. i guess i'm just saying that you really got it right with your writing and for the first time i felt seen in my body in a comfortable way. it takes both a lot of talent and a lot of love to be able to cause such deep heartfelt reactions from a story and i wish i could better express just how much what you've written resonates with me. <3 anyway i am so sorry for yapping and i'm sorry if it's impolite or ill mannered to write so much in an ask but i really wanted to send something in because i really love your writing! :3

hey there anon. this was kind of super beautiful gorgeous lovely perfect sexy, and i kind of love you for it. i really really appreciate this ask a lot, because i do write from experience but i can never really tell if it's just mine or the experience of others as well. it means a lot to hear you say i do it right, bc ive also seen it done wrong before in other fandoms and i would have hated to add to it in a way that disappoints. my point at the end of all of this is that suna rintarou is a chubby chaser and that is my self-indulgent work so i hope you enjoy/enjoyed it LMAOOOO <3333

[charliesinfern0]

SO SO SO SUPER COOL. i first saw your artwork back in 2022 [i think…!?]?? your ososan stuff! and i thought your artstyle was so super cute and unique that when you started posting it again in 2023 i recognized it off the bat haha. i look at everything outside of ososan too now and i find it all very fun! we have a lot of overlap in other interests but its also been so cool to see things i have only thought of getting into without ever taking the leap LIKE CATS!!! I REALLY LIKE SEEING POSTS ABOUT CATS!! its all very interesting to me!! i like seeing you indulge so much. its fun seeing blogs that are so obviously and beautifully collections of things that person is passionate about!! i would like to see even more of that. i VERY MUCH get being held back by a sense of being cringe/too much but i bet if you doubled down on everything without caring things would only become doubly cool! its also very fun to see someone who has a lot of continual passion for their fankids for homestuck?! admittedly my hs days were primarily like..4-3 years ago but back then it was really common for people to start msfpas or make ocs and then run out of steam really fast [its a strong time commitment and VERY OBVIOUSLY AS I WOULD KNOW interests change!!] but seeing how much youve stuck with page and the development of your art since making them is CRAZYYYYYYYYY and so inspirational!!! truly very awesome to see. LASTLY LASTLY LASTLY though i could ramble for a very long time I REALLY REALLY LIKE YOUR CAT CAFE FIC IDEA…and this is no like easy feat when it comes to ososan stuff to me im pretty picky lol. even if it never gets off the ground the stuff you laid out in that one ask w all the chapter titles and musical tie ins was so fun to read + A VERY GOOD MUSIC REC and im glad to have been able to peek into your head about it!! i was just thinking about it the other day :) anyway have a good one forever benrey infern0

OH MY GOSH THANK YOU?!?? THIS IS SO SWEET YOU'VE MADE MY DAY LIKE TEN TIMES BETTER NOW T_T im so happy that you enjoy my blog so much and im so happy you like my art and writing and ocs!!! ^_^ i have been nervous about being seen as annoying or too much for posting abt stuff i enjoy and ive been wanting to post about stuff that im worried people might find cringey,,, but your message is inspiring me to just go for it!!!! hehehe ^_^ i do have some new interests (and some new f/os!!!) that i want to share soon, and im also planning to just do a bunch of self ship and oc ask games and make a bunch of oc x canon art!! im super excited to do all that now :D

also its actually the 1 year anniversary of the official beginning of citrus!!! (though ive been working on it for a lot longer lololol) i'm planning on posting some art to celebrate in just a little bit, so keep an eye out for that! >_o

thank you again for all of your kind words!! knowing that there are people out there that enjoy me and my art makes it all worth it (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) i hope you have a good one forever too anon!!!!!

and i hope you like the little collage of some of my fave things right now hehe ^_^

[total-drama-brainrot]

i love yr art and all the td ramblings im not even an alenoah shipper (not that i hate it or anything js not my top one) but like thank you for introducing me to so many wonderful artists through reblogs and such 🐺👍🏽 i love the rice krispies fic also You have a really unique writing style i dont see much and i love the personal touch of humor scattered throughout its a really enjoyable read and you understand the characters so well 10/10 soerry i just really appreciate the ramblings and diff au's and introspective and such Have a good day _(:3」z)_

I'm surprised people are enjoying my art so much, since the majority of the stuff I've posted is poor, sketchy imitations of the show's art style, but thank you anyway!

There's tonnes of talented artists and writers in this fandom, I'm so happy that I've been able to boost their content to a new audience through my silly little blog!!

As for my writing style, I've found that a lot of it's uniqueness comes from the very imagery-heavy narrative; there's always a simile, metaphor or otherwise some sort of 'poetic comparison' scattered about in my writing to help add depth to the scene (that, and a gross overuse of adverbs to describe literally every action someone takes). I enjoy writing in limited third person because I like getting a feel for the character who's perspective I'm writing from, personality wise. Which is why it's always so relieving to hear that people think my characterisations are good/accurate!

I also really like using limited third person because I could write paragraphs telling my audience that the antagonist is a bad person, sure, but I enjoy showing people my character's temperaments using their POVs- like Alejandro's perspective scenes in the RK fic, I don't outright say "oh, hey, by the way Alejandro is an awful person" but it's pretty apparent anyway.

...The humour stuff is just me being self-indulgent, and a symptom of my inability to take anything serious ever. But I'm super glad that people are also finding it funny!

Then again, most of this blog is just me being self-indulgent. Either through introspectives/analysis on things that Aren't That Deep, or by publicly snowballing AU ideas with others, or by doodling silly things that make me laugh.

The fact that people are enjoying watching my crazed ramblings is a bonus!

I hope you have a good day too! 😁

[lavenoon]

Specialty as a fanfic writer, let's go!

(Here I am taking that post very literally, so I'm gonna choose a specialty that is relevant specifically to it being fanfic, because I think it's an interesting way to think about it instead of just general writing, and I hope to explain myself well kfdjhgskñjgh)

I am assigning you "never forgets the fun! "

(And here I'll say, I really need to learn from your example on this one fjkhgkjsh)

Because Luce, literally following what you come up with is so much fun!

And that's what fanfic is! Fun! A hobby! Something that can be frustrating at times, but also is supposed to make us happy! And I just love that about what you make, because it's so clear how much you enjoy it. And just for the sake of clarity, you are an awesome writer! These are not mutually exclusive, of course, and in fact I think these aspects work so well together for what you do! You have so much fun creating your story, you know your characters so well, that placing them in a dozen variations of the same premise is absolutely no problem and I would (and have) read each and every one of them! You care so much about the connections between characters and the themes you explore and you have a blast while doing it too! And I have a blast witnessing it!

When someone makes an offhand comment and you suddenly go "Oh?", I just can perceive the little lightbulb turning on above your head and I just know we are in for a treat! Because what you make is just so genuine and heartfelt that the enthusiasm is just contagious! All the things you explore, be it by drabbles, or multi-chapter arcs, or your comics (comics are literature too and no one can change my mind on that XD), and the way you just opened a gate for other people to have fun with your AU too, it's just all so wonderful! The possibilities are endless and they're all there waiting for you to choose which ones inspire you the most!

What you make just represents the spirit of fanfic so terrifically and I am all for it, all day every day!

(and... if I'm being a little sappy for a moment here, I've always been just a bit too selfconscious about truly indulging and having fun so freely and trying stuff like this at all and I have some trouble coming out of my shell sometimes, so following along with AU and all the discord shenanigans has just made me feel the tiniest bit better about joining in on the fun, so you get a very heartfelt thank you from me for that <3)

I was gonna say the post said "on anon" but yknow, if you had sent this in on anon that would not have been anonymous anyway GFHDJS <3 That being said...

I'm blaming the fact that it's early but I really am just a little weepy and it took me like three times of reading to finally formulate some thoughts but most of them are just blubbering and or happy keysmash

Wanted to say that I just can't not explore things - but I realize I could. But where would be the fun in that? Fun has me in a chokehold and I'm never even considering not to indulge!

It makes things hard to follow and I'm self-conscious about that at times, which may make the weepiness partly out of relief/ reassurance. Always happy to hear that it's fun to follow along wherever my adhd brain takes me, and it is fun to explore - I love doing it!

I write fanfic for my fanfic, and apart from those bouts of "oh god no one's gonna be able to follow this mess of an AU" I'm so so happy to do it! There are so many different ways things could have gone, and I'm a huge sucker for the "soulmates in the 'in every universe, I'd choose you' way" trope - they choose each other, again and again and no matter how they meet, it turns out okay! Even the (discord exclusive (so far) because I wasn't confident enough to post Glamrock stuff before) version of AU where Robin works for Abra Fez with the Glamrocks - they still get to have fun with their boys! There's a happy ending! (and lots of shenanigans on the way gfhdsj)

The dynamics change and that's a lot of fun, and yeah I really just. Have to agree with your judgement - except I think fun would never let me dare forget it gfhdjsk

I love seeing what other people come up with - fanart and fanfic and the agentsona shenanigans, I always intended for this AU to be a sandbox to play in! I do it at any given moment, and it's so much more fun with other people enjoying themselves too! It can be silly, it can rely on so much suspension of disbelief, as long as it is fun! That is the most important part, and I'm glad to deliver!

(Also very glad to coax you out of your shell - it can be scary to be self indulgent when you feel so observed! Cringe culture is dead but its effect lingers! But I'm always gonna be very vocal about my support for self-indulgence because it is so much fun, that's even more dynamics to explore! It's nice, it's fun, and hurts no one - so I wish you heaps of self-indulgence in your future <3)