#this show is impossible to color i tried my best | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsonlydana · 4 months ago

Note

I wanted to ask if you could please please write sonething about Thranduil x fem!reader (in an established relationship) where they go shopping for dresses together because reader needs one for a ball they are going to attend. And you know Thranduil being the fashion icon he is, is only picking the best of the best like he wants reader to slay and him being completely dedicated and not afraid to keep everyone running and busy for that haha

Pretty in Pink & Beautiful in Blue | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

You and Thranduil go shopping

tags/warnings: fluff, really rich!Thranduil

word count: 3,1k

an: i started this when i went shopping for my Eras-Tour dress but then writers-block hit me over the head and I had barely any time to even try getting back into it.. welp

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

You look absolutely horrendous, stuffed into the tiniest fitting room with harsh white fluorescent light showing off the tiniest of flaws and impurities on the contorted face looking back at you in the four mirrors – seriously, who needs to see themselves like this in not one, but four mirrors? Definitely not you, not right now, or ever, if you're completely honest, because if the lightning doesn't hold any punches back, then you wouldn't as well.

"Darling, are you alright?" Thranduil's voice carries over the blaring instore music, which has been rotating around the ten same chart songs, not just overplaying them but they didn't do them any favors by playing them at a volume that made normal conversation impossible. Any attempt of quietly asking Thranduil for a bigger size or a dress that didn't look atrocious becomes futile by the tunes of pop and weirdly mixed-in raving music.

"I have a headache and the dress is stupid," you call back and lift a hand to massage your temple.

The thin curtain rustles as Thranduil opens it a slit and immediately the room shrinks even more. Your boyfriend, not really boyfriend – the word doesn't quite fit for the tall man scrutinizing the yellow number that sits so tight around your bust that breathing becomes harder, tilts his head and the long strands of his blonde hair fall to your naked shoulders. "Sorry, I didn't catch that over the –" he gestures to the speakers built into the cheap ceiling tiles and the corner of his mouth twitches in disgust "music. Again, what did you say?"

You lean closer to the mirror, plucking at the fabric around your waist for a bit more room. "I said my head's about to explode and so will this dress if I even think about exhaling what little air I have left in me." If the mirror didn't look like it hadn't been cleaned in forever you would've rested your forehead against it to cool down a bit but there are fingerprints and weird handprints all over so you decide against that and simply pout.

Thranduil smiles in sympathy and lets his large hands move soothingly over your arms. "Let's get you out of this dress and us out of this, well, disgrace of a boutique, yes?" he asks, kissing the back of your head.

"Mhm," you hum in agreement though it irks you that he had been right from the start that this shop wouldn't have any fitting clothes for the gala you were invited to.

Or any gala. But especially not the benefit ball one of Thranduil's closest friends had organized to be held in the old national theatre two weeks from now – so, relatively close considering you had pushed the whole shopping for a dress and jewelry and shoes away from your mind until Thranduil had nonchalantly asked over breakfast which color his suit should have and you nearly broke down over your avocado toast and eggs because you hadn't the faintest idea. The first stores you tried had been disaster after disaster, not only given the underwhelming amount of dress choices that made the list for maybe-just-maybe-possible-if-i-don't-find-anything-else more so because you had stubbornly tried to convince Thranduil that you would be fine. You did not need his help, thank you very much you know what you like and what looks good on you but then the disappointed groans over annoying zippers or itchy fabric grew simultaneously to the headache that pounds away behind your temples and led to where you were now: metaphorically waving the white flag.

Thranduil's lips move to the left, teasingly nipping the shell of your ear. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing," he murmures lowly and you give in to a chuckle.

"We'll see, honey."

Not even half an hour later you're biting your words as Thranduil strolls into one of the chicest stores you have ever seen and immediately gets greeted by two young girls who smile brightly as he slides over his credit card before you have the chance to protest.

This is nothing like the overfilled tourist spots that have clothes ranging from toddlers to clothes fit for old ladies who strangely smell all the same and offer you mints that had been dusting up in the bottom of their handbags for longer than you have been alive for.

For one thing, you realize there are no more than two articles of each thing hanging on the clothing racks, and secondly, everything's hung up. There aren't tables with meter-high folded jeans on them which makes it impossible to actually find the size you're looking for without playing Tetris; all the heavy wooden tables are beautifully decorated with necklaces, rings as well as bracelets in all metals. The ambiance is the total opposite and the chilled air is a blessing after the sweaty hours of pulling on dresses and walking around kids screaming for the new Elsa shirt.

Thranduil obviously feels more at ease here, he fits right in with his sharp dress pants, the white knitted sweater top, and the large brown sunglasses that he pushes up into his light hair as he becomes the center of attention by simply existing in this space. Day by day you're in awe of him.

"So, Darling, what would you feel more comfortable in — a lighter chiffon, satin crepe, or simply normal satin?" Thranduil steers you both in the direction of a rack with a few dresses that have caught your eye while Thranduil gives your size to the girls.

"I honestly have no idea." You shrug your shoulders in a soft laughter but that doesn't discourage him.

"Then I will pull out one of each and you try them all on," Thranduil says and his eyes crinkle in what you could call full-hearted delight, "Oh, I have dreamt about this! Now, come on," he throws a look at the nametag of the redhead that expectantly trails after you two, "Tauriel, could you be a dear and show my love where the dressing rooms are?"

"Of course," Tauriel chirps and offers you a warm smile and her elbow which you hesitantly take.

Thranduil quickly leans in for a kiss before he's already back on flicking through the dresses. "Ah, we will take a bottle of iced water as well! Bring that to the fitting rooms, I will join you in a minute."

As your shoes click over the wooden floors Tauriel gently pulls you along into a separate area closed off from the large windows that flood the showroom with natural light but have a clear view into the much quieter street yet you let out a tensed breath when you see there's no way anyone from the outside can see you here. The space is just as open with no more than five stalls that probably fit three or four people and they have heavy red curtains instead of the flimsy ones that offer basically no protection whatsoever. A few low tables are strewn over the carpeted floor, each with two dark red sofas that offer those waiting a seat, and to your surprise, there's already a clear bottle of sparkling water on one of these tables.

"You're really fast," you note as Tauriel pulls one curtain open and takes your jacket.

"Of course, practice paths the way to perfection and we offer nothing but perfection," she says and her smile shows two dimples on either side of her lightly dusted cheeks.

Though it sounds like a … practiced slogan, you fully believe her.

"Okay, I have some dresses I would like you to try on." Thranduil comes around the corner, holding a glass of water himself that he takes an appreciating sip of. Close behind him, the other woman carries what he apparently had picked out for you with effortless grace, despite the fact one of the dresses must weigh a ton by the amount of fabric that pools over the arms of the blonde. Thranduil slides into the chair positioned toward where you stand in the open curtains, gawking as the woman hangs the first dress on the wall inside the fitting room. A smirk rests on Thranduil's lips and he props up both arms on the chair, leaning his head against his fist. "Now, you have fun with these, yes?" he drawles.

After the curtains close and you're left alone to undress, brushing off your shoes to stand on the wooden floor, folding your pants and shirt into a neat pile that you put on the small bench provided, you let your hands run over the ruffles of the pale pink dress. There isn't a tag or anything else that could help you figure out the price or size but when you step into the dress you find it sits perfectly around your chest and brushes the floor just enough that a pair of heels would lift it accordingly.

Despite the room you have you hold your breath as you zip up the dress yourself. While looking in the mirror you pull the frilled arms to sit on your shoulders, the frill and tulle tickling your skin lightly like sunray kisses in the morning, and in the golden light, you stare at the reflection in the mirror, full-on blown away by the gentleness this dress radiates and how the crystal embellishment in the corset-like bodice glitter and shine like teardrops.

"Okay," you say, "I've got the first one on!"

The chatter of Thranduil and the girls outside falls silent as you pull away the curtain and shyly make a few steps forward. In a lame and awkward movement – the result of the blank stare that took over Thranduil's face – you gesture to the dress rustling with the movement. "Ta-da?"

"Pretty," he finally says and lifts a finger, "give me a twirl, sweetheart?"

You follow his request and the ruffles fly up as you turn around yourself, chuckling at the airy feeling of fabric floating around, gemstones glittering as much as the amusement and adoration twinkles in Thranduil's eyes. Just for him, you courtesy, tipping your head down in one smooth, practised movement at the same angle you bend your knee and send him a cheeky wink through lowered lashes; an act that rewards you with deep laughter.

"We will take this one," Thranduil orders when you straighten up again.

You tilt your head in confusion. "I haven't tried on the other ones yet."

"I know." Thranduil sits back in his chair and folds one long leg over the other. He seems unbothered by your inquiring look that changes into scrutinizing at his casual demeanor. He copies you, tilting his head to one side and brushing the long hair that follows back behind his ear again.

"What?" he asks and lifts an eyebrow, "Darling, I'm rich. Try on whatever you like. It does not matter if we leave this shop with one dress packed up or four. All that counts is that you have fun and find a gown you feel comfortable in for the ball. Now –," Thranduil takes a moment to smile at you after his lips had contorted into that much-to-sure-of-himself smirk that appeared on his faultless face whenever the talk of money and his habit of spending – in your humble opinion – far too much and carelessly on you lightened your cheeks up. "Tauriel will hold on to this pretty number while you change into the next one."

The heat doesn't leave your face at all as the redhead slips behind the curtains, though it's far more gentle when you realize the woman shows no interest in your body but her chilled hands work fast yet precise on unzipping the pink dress; her professionalism is only broken when a mischievous and knowing smile flits across her lips.

Her voice is quiet when she speaks, holding up the midnight blue gown that has more layers than any of the others: "If I may be so honest and direct – many men walk into this store to shut their wives up with new clothes or such but your man?" she laughs once and shakes her head, "You've chosen well, that's all that I can say without sounding as jealous as I am."

"Oh," you blush again. Being put under such a spotlight, even one as soft and golden as the lamps around you, is never easy even though it's quite common nowadays. Being around Thranduil has that affect, that much you had noticed right when you two met and of course, you know that being on the arm of one of the most gorgeous rich men you've ever seen pushes you in the lens as well. Not once has anyone ever told you that he's yours. Your choice. Your man. Butterflies spread in your stomach, looping through the hot blood until you hiccup a burst of laughter.

"I'm wasn't used to being spoiled that much," you don't know why exactly you feel the need to confess but maybe it's less of a need for confession or the defense and deflecting answers you normally gave but rather something more simple – hushed conversations about a boy between two girls in a fitting room.

And following the encouraging nod from Tauriel you lean into the conversation. You whisper while she helps you step into the dress, giggle as she pulls on the satin strings that tighten the simple yet elegant bodice and quickly fall into fawning over Thranduil's openness to buy you whatever you want, whenever you want.

"–so I just gave in and let him bring me here," you ramble and pull in your stomach slightly for Tauriel to drape the fabric correctly, looking up at you through her cocky red fringe, "A good decision, much better than trying on another one of this tight latex dresses, because now I can actually breathe and you are so so nice!"

"You're one of my favorite customers as well. The others can be so boring and uptight. It's refreshing to dress you; you don't complain and look much happier to be around me," Tauriel says and stands up from where she had kneeled, laying her hands on your shoulders and the thin straps to turn you around to the mirror. She smiles at you in the reflection, red contrasting the ink-blue shimmering dress like a fire blazing through the night, her smile contagious and unstoppable. "We should probably go out and stun your man into silence again. Before you came out he just couldn't stop talking about what colors fit your skin tone best and on and on he went–" She wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, "all that stopped the moment he saw you in that pink dress. Go get him again, tiger!"

She encouragingly nudges you forward, a motivation much needed because after her small speech you rather want to run up to him and kiss him senseless but instead of following that instinct, you push away the curtains and find him pacing the room up and down. His head snaps to you instinctively, completely blending out Tauriel who walks past you with a mumbled: "Oops, may have chatted a bit too long" and stares at you.

"My my."

"So?"

The dress follows your steps toward him. Immediately he scans the hem, sharp eyes already calculating.

"We need to shorten it," he says and beckons you closer with two fingers. You stop in front of him, his head at the level of your heart, fluttering underneath the silky fabric covering your chest. One of his hands comes to rest on your hips, rubbing his thumb in slow circles while the other inspects the hem. "An inch will suffice if you wear a higher heel, two for your pair of kitten heels."

"Mhm," you ponder and lift the dress just enough for your ankles to flash into view.

Without taking his eyes away from you, Thranduil's hand slips to caress the delicate skin. "You look beautiful if I haven't told you that already."

"You haven't," you tease and shudder as he scratches his nails over your calve. "I wouldn't mind hearing it again, though."

The hand on your hip wanders to your lower back and in a second he draws you down to him, evoking a squeal and laugh by the surprising tip to your balance. "You, my little firecracker, you are beautiful in this dress," he drawls but before you can lean in further, hoping to get a kiss out of this as well as the compliments, he playfully taps your arse.

"You have no shame," you scoff, cheeks flaming hot and you do your best not to check for Tauriel, who you can hear hiding her laughter behind a soft cough.

"Get your pretty and beautiful self into that last dress or I'll show you how shameless I can be," Thranduil says it like a joke – you, however, can read him like an open book, and the words written on the audacious smirk his lips curve into are far too bold and totally something he would do.

Out of any other ways to answer if you didn't want your voice to fail you, you stick out your tongue and disappear behind the curtains.

The rest of the evening flies by in more dresses and Thranduil's reaction to every single one catapults you to a completely new sphere of feeling loved and desired. By the time you try on a silver dress that hugs your figure close and has a neckline that plunges deep down, he looks ready to bark out the order to pack it all up and go home but instead, he draws you into a kiss and leaves you breathless enough to only nod in agreement of the dress. After the dresses comes the jewelry, most of it pieces that Thranduil insists on buying as well, no thought going after any price – as soon as you smile at your reflection of fiddle with a charm on a wristband, Thranduil whisks his hand and it's added to the growing pile of evening wear. There's no possible way you would ever have a chance in deciding what exactly you will wear to the gala but Thranduil makes sure there are enough options.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fic #thranduil fanfic #thranduil oropherion #king of mirkwood

161 notes · View notes

kishibe-kisser · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! May I ask for a situation where the reader invite student classmate Mahito to her home to do a Biology group project together but then they get distracted and things get smutty?

Oh I love this!!!

Okay, okay! I hope you enjoy it. I really liked writing this and because there wasn't all too much direction I kind of free handed it.

The class should see this (Mahito/nsfw)

tags: pervy student Mahito x fem! reader, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), biting, cumming inside (wrap it up kids), hickies

Word count: 2044 words

There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach the whole time as you tried to take notes, your hand shaking slightly with each stroke of your pen. His gaze was unsettling, making you so incredibly nervous you couldn't even put down a coherent sentence without scribbling through it. "You seem nervous. What's on your mind?" His tone was condescending, a laugh being evident in his voice. It was even worse because he knew exactly why you were nervous.

Mahito thrived off the fact that he made you uncomfortable, even though you had never spoken before this project. His presence was simply like a black shadow in the corner of every room, watching everyone and everything but especially you. What made it even better was that you noticed. You noticed his dark gaze following everyone, following you. You even noticed the way his tongue peeked out over his lips as he watched you during classes. He made you uncomfortable in the worst ways, yet you couldn't ever bring yourself to look away and he loved it.

It tickled him pink to see your name next to his in the biology partner list. It tickled him to know you were screaming on the inside at having to be this close to him.

"Nothing's on my mind. I just want to do well on this project." You lied through your teeth, knowing that he knew. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction of saying it. Your words weren't an entire lie, Mahito knew you wanted good grades and that was the whole reason you even invited him to your house to work on the project. You let him into your private space and he was going to take advantage of it.

"What's on your mind Mahito?" You asked, finally looking up from your work and at his face. He was sat across from you at your coffee table, his blue and silver eyes trained on you as you put your pen down. His unique features made him impossible to hate, his crooked smirk, mismatched eyes and all around gorgeous face making him the most stunning thing you had ever seen. A part of you was angry at yourself for finding him attractive and liking the way he watched you at school.

"I don't think you want to know." He smiled and you felt goosebumps coat your skin. "You know what I think you might be right." You said and picked up your pen again. You listened to his laugh, watching from your peripheral vision as he placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. His face was mere inches from yours as you looked up at him. "Though since you're so persistant." He tipped your chin up to make sure you looked at him, his pale hand holding your chin so that you couldn't look away. "I was thinking about how nice you'd look spread out on this table. Your cute skirt all hiked up to show me those pretty pink panties I know you're wearing underneath."

Your heart pounded in your ears and you couldn't help but wonder how he knew the color of your underwear. Squeezing your thighs together, a whimper escaped your lips despite your best efforts to keep it in. "Hmmm, sounds like you don't mind the sound of that." He teased further, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips pucker. He was humiliating him and you were letting him, even worse you were enjoying it.

It took him no time to throw both of your school work off of the table, coaxing you to sit on top of it with your legs spread. Mahito's fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt and danced over the skin of your thighs with surprisingly gentle touches. His eyes looking up at you as he continued to grin. You kept your hands planted on the table for stability, not knowing what to expect with him. His gentle touches disappeared nearly instantly, hiking your skirt up roughly so that he could get a good look at the wet patch forming in your panties.

He leaned down suddenly, making you gasp as his fingers ghosted over your core. He wanted a closer look, he wanted to touch, feel and explore every inch of you and that was exactly what he was going to do.

"Never thought you'd let me do this, did you?" He asked, pulling your panties to the side causing goosebumps to coat your skin. "Your pussy is so pretty, so wet for me." He licked over his lips at the sight and you fought the urge to close your legs. His fingers dug into your thighs as he wrapped his arms around them, pulling you closer to the edge of the table before diving into your core.

You had never experienced anything like it, the way his tongue prodded at your entrance, the way he gripped your thighs and the way he inhaled you. It was different from your past sexual endeavors, Mahito was eating you out because he wanted to, for his pleasure. His nose grazed your clit as his tongue continued to fuck into you and your nails scratched at the wood of the coffee table. "Mahito-" You cried out, not being able to hold it back any more. You felt dirty and it felt so fucking good.

"Play with your tits while I tongue fuck your cunt. Come on pretty girl, you can do it." He commanded, fingers rubbing harsh circles over your clit as he watched you. You lifted your hands of the table and pulled your top off over your head, hesitating for a moment before unclasping your bra. He watched your every move like a starved man and to make sure you listened to his orders.

Your hands found your chest, massaging your breasts and shutting your eyes. Mahito hummed in approval before continuing his assault on your clit and swirling his tongue over the sensitive nub as his fingers dipped into your pussy. Even though your eyes were closed, you knew he was watching you and making sure you were still touching yourself as he made you shake. You were so close, so incredibly close, the walls of your cunt squeezing his fingers as he continued curling them.

"I'm gonna cum." You choked out, tears brimming your eyes as you finally opened them again to look down at him. His eyes nearly rolled back at your words, feeling so much pleasure in the way you cried out. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly as his fingers pumped a little faster, not slowing down at all as your legs tried clamping around his head. You didn't mean to let out a scream as you came but it couldn't be helped. You were certain your thighs would be bruised from the way he held them open, not slowing down the assault on your pussy until he felt your legs shaking and screams of his name turned into incoherent babble.

"I wonder what our class would think if they saw this. Their beloved friend cumming on the tongue of the class perv. I think they'd have some pretty interesting things to say." He remarked, looking at the way your chest heaved as he slowed down the pace of his fingers before pulling them out of you. "Lean down." He added on, watching you shakily move forward to get closer to him. "Open your mouth." He continued, enjoying the way you hardly hesitated at his commands anymore. He placed his fingers in your mouth, watching as your tongue cleaned your cum off of his fingers without command. "See, you're even starting to enjoy this." Mahito made sure his eyes were locked with yours, taking in your fucked out expression as you cleaned off his fingers. This was everything he had always imagined and more.

He pulled you off of the table, sitting you in his lap before laying you down on the ground and hovering over you. Mahito's hands moved back to your underwear and roughly pulled them down your legs before stuffing them in his pocket. "Making sure I don't forget my souvenir." He smiled, sitting back on his heels as his thighs spread your legs further. He pulled off his shirt and showcased his lean yet muscular body, watching as you reached forward to touch him. He let you, your fingers tracing over the lines of his abs before dipping down to the waist band of his pants.

Looking over you laid out for him, wanting him, made his cock ache. Feeling your fingers wanting to touch him, greedy for more even. He was now even more than eager to split you open on his cock.

He pulled his pants down quickly, wasting no more time before lifting your hips to meet his. You already knew from his attitude that he wasn't going to take it slow, blunt nails digging into your hips. His cock slipped into you, stretching you out and making you mewl as you tried to find something to hold onto. Sinking all the way into you, Mahito threw his head back and let out a laugh.

"God, you're sucking me in. Your pussy feels even better than i thought it would." You whined at his words, still adjusting to the stretch of him. He pulled you onto him, thrusting his hips at the same time. His cock hit that sweet spot in you harshly and making you cry out as he repeated the action. It felt so good it almost hurt, making it feel even better. The angle he had your hips raised at made it impossible for him to miss your sweet spot, hitting it repeatedly as you tried to hold onto something.

Mahito watched your tits bounce with each thrust, face contorting as you moaned, tears streaming down your face at how good it all felt. He hovered over you, placing a hand by your head to steady himself. Looking into your eyes, taking in your fucked out expression, he kissed you. Lips sloppily pressing into yours as he surpressed your noises, tongue snaking into your mouth to taste every inch of you. He could feel you tightening around his cock, walls squeezing him, milking him for everything he was worth and he pulled away from your lips. Not leaving them before biting your bottom lip first.

"I can feel you're close, pretty girl." He groaned into your skin, kissing his way down your neck. "God it feels so good." You cried, wrapping your arms around his neck to tug on his hair. He continued his way down your chest, leaving marks down your neck before sinking his teeth into your breast. You let out a scream as you came around his cock, the bite only triggering your orgasm.

You could feel yourself spasming around his cock, his pace speeding up as he chased his own high. Mahito continued biting over your chest, tongue swirling over nipples to overstimulate you more. You were a babbling mess as he kept going, marking you as his before halting all movements with a moan. You could feel him cumming inside of you, painting your walls with him as he caught his breath over you.

Mahito sat back up, looking at the piece of art he had created. His marks over your chest, hickies and bite marks on display. He pulled his cock out you, smiling at the whimper that came out of before looking at your wrecked cunt. His cum slowly dripping out of you.

You felt absolutely violated, trying to shield your body from him despite letting him wreck you no 2 minutes earlier. However Mahito was faster, holding your arms away from your body before holding onto your chin again to force you to look at him. "You know you can't hide from me." He said and you found your cheeks heating up. You couldn't move even if you wanted too, your body to sore to leave his touch and gaze.

"You better wear these on display tomorrow." Mahito continued, his finger dipping down to trace over the hickies and bite marks on your chest.

"I want our whole class to see our biology project on display."

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #mahito #mahito smut #mahito x reader

458 notes · View notes

saintlucretia · 5 months ago

Text

Devil Wears a Suit

part Ⅱ

Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Mention of murder, Sexual harassment?, Explicit content, Curse words, Hot devil's son, Not proofread.

A/N: I tried my best, hope you enjoy.

A long night passed and the morning came. Well, if you can trust the clock. There were no windows at the Outpost for sunlight to penetrate the room, although even if there were some, it would not matter since after the bombs the sun disappeared behind a thick wall of fog. Fog of death.

I woke up with chills and sweat. Something haunted my dreams all night, making me shiver like a little lamb. Even though it was an unpleasant feeling, it added color to a pathetic parody of life that I have been having for the last 18 months.

Yesterday’s events bothered me. Moreover, they annoyed me. It was bright as day, that Langdon was messing with all of our minds, yet some part of my silly brain wanted me to believe that I was truly special. That he saw something, that no one else could.

I slowly walked to the bathroom. My bare feet touched the cold marble and I involuntarily shivered. I was tired. A mess. I washed my face and sighed, looking at myself in the mirror. Suddenly I noticed a motion somewhere behind, I turned my head and flinched. Snakes. They were crawling from the bath. Devilish creatures hissed showing me their poisonous fangs. I quickly ran out of the bathroom shutting the door behind me. What the hell? I caught my breath and sat on the edge of the bed. Are there snakes in my bathroom? I felt like I was going insane. Something cold touched my feet. Snakes. I jumped on the bed with a gasp. My closet and floor near it were full of them. They swarmed, intertwining with each other. Dozens of snakes. The other second I was already at the door, running to the hallway. Still barefoot in a white Victorian nightgown that Ms. Venable made us wear. I backed away from the room door and my back hit something soft. I turned around quickly, facing Michael Langdon's piercing blue eyes.

“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, preventing me from falling.

I stared at him for about a minute before words rolled out of my mouth.

“Snakes. There are snakes in my room.” My voice was hoarse, my fingers dug into the sleeves of his jacket.

He was clearly amused by my state, studying my expression. Langdon chuckled, "Oh, really? Snakes, you say?" His eyes shone with a sly glint. I watched as he pushed me aside and glanced toward the room I had just run from.

"May I?" he asked, and entered the room without waiting for my reply. I slowly followed him. To my horror, as we entered I saw nothing. Snakes were gone. Impossible.

“They were here. I swear to God they were here.” I mumbled looking around the room.

I noticed Langdon’s face contorted in hostility.

“Don’t say such stupid words, Ms. Y/S. It’s unnecessary here.”

I closed my face with my hands and sighed. Considering my appearance and edgy state, I totally looked like a mad woman. Nobody believes a mad woman.

“I believe you,” Langdon said, approaching me as if he read my thoughts. “Strange things sometimes happen. But it’s just… interesting that it happened in your room.”

"What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my eyebrows, my gaze searching his face.

“You probably know that snakes have always been representing sin. It’s their main dignity. Servants of darkness… if you believe in symbols, of course.”

I let his words sink in briefly, my gaze drifting to the ground lost in thought. Snakes… sin… Snakes slithering in the garden of Eden… temptress Eve... I understood where he was going.

I huffed at that, scoffing. "Is that your way of calling me sinful? A corrupted soul? Please, spare me the Bible lessons."

Langdon raised an eyebrow at my comment, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Oh, I'm not calling you sinful," he said, leaning against the nearby wall, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe. “But as you said it… it would be amusing to see you getting corrupted.”

I rolled my eyes. "Then what are you calling me?" I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of irritation. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to regain some composure.

Langdon chuckled at my defensive stance. His eyes gleamed with amusement. He pushed himself off the wall and slowly approached me.

"Are you always so feisty in the mornings?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I gulped as he came closer, a mix of annoyance and something else stirring inside me. His intense gaze made me feel cornered and yet, strangely… excited? My breath hitched as he was now standing directly in front of me, the space between us barely existent.

He raised his hand, a single finger tracing an invisible line down my cheek. "Or is it just my presence that gets you going?" he murmured, his voice dripping like honey.

The touch of his fingertip felt like a small electrical shock to my system. I tried to control my breathing, determined not to let him see me flustered.

"Your presence is hardly something exciting," I retorted, my voice a bit shaky. "It's more... irritating."

He smirked at my response. His finger trailed lower, down my jawline, and stopped at my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

“Well, as I recall it was you, who fell into my arms with fear, m?”

I hated how his words were effective. I hated how true they were. I hated myself for being so affected by his presence.

I tried to compose myself, my jaw clenched tightly. "I was just surprised," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, but my heart was beating too hard for any nonchalance. “There were snakes all over the room.”

Langdon chuckled, his thumb left my face and he slowly started walking toward the door.

"Indeed there were," he replied, casually leaning against the door frame. He seemed relaxed as if the topic was of no real importance.

I watched him for a moment, trying to decipher his nonchalant behavior. He was enjoying this, the way he was playing with me. The way he was playing with everyone.

"Are you going to explain what happened here, or just act like it's normal for snakes to appear out of nowhere?" I asked, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice.

Langdon chuckled at my question, that arrogant smirk never leaving his lips. "Isn't the mystery part of the thrill?"

He walked out, closing the door behind me, leaving me again excited and annoyed. Silence engulfed the room after he left. I was left standing there, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind replaying the events that just occurred.

I sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge with a thump. The silence was deafening, the only sound being the steady beat of my heart. I couldn't shake off the feeling of… anticipation. Anticipation for the next time I would see him. That son of a bitch.

I quickly dressed up and went to the day room. We didn’t have breakfast there. We barely ate at all. Some kind of nutrition cube at lunch and water. Balanced diet.

No one yet tried to break the rules of the house that Ms. Venable had set, so when I entered the room almost everyone was already there. Same people, same walls, same music. I was going insane.

I took my usual seat, the conversations around me blending into a dull murmur. I felt suffocated as if I was drowning in the monotony. All I could think about was the next part of the interview with a representative of the Cooperative.

Sanctuary could be a lie, who can verify that? All this can be a way to manipulate us. Even Ms.Venable was afraid, she didn’t trust him but obeyed. We were a flock of sheep in a pen with a hungry wolf.

I was lost in thought when I noticed someone settling into the seat beside me. I turned my head to see Mr. Gallant.

"You seem lost in thought," he noted, his voice soft. "Everything alright?"

“Yeah, just… had an unpleasant morning,” I answered shortly, not wanting to tell him anything. I replayed all morning and yesterday's events in my head again and felt anger in my body. It made my blood hotter.

He had no time to answer, as Ms. Venable walked into the room. Her presence immediately silenced the conversations. Her expression was stern, and she scanned the room with a critical eye.

"Good morning," she began, her voice steady and authoritative. She leaned on her cane and raised her voice a bit. “Today we are having a special treat. Don’t be late for lunch.” She turned from us and slowly started walking away, her heels echoing through the walls.

“Oh, by the way,” she stopped for a second but hadn’t turned her head. “Ms. Y/N, Mr. Langdon is waiting for you in the interview room.” She said harshly as if his name was disgusting to her.

I could feel the eyes of the others on me as they turned their gazes in my direction. I stood up slowly, trying to seem unbothered.

The walk to the interview room seemed longer than usual, the silence only interrupted by my footsteps and my rapidly beating heart. I will beat this motherfucker.

I knocked on the door of his cabinet and entered. There he was, sitting on the table, as he was waiting for me in that position intentionally. His pose was casual but deliberate. His gaze met mine, a smirk on his lips.

"Ah, Ms. Y/N," he greeted, his tone mocking yet playful. "Sit down please."

I tried to retain my composure, refusing to let him see any hint of my nervousness. I sat down in the chair opposite him, trying to maintain some distance, yet feeling the closeness of the cramped room.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice steady but cold.

“Well, It’s the second part of your interview-” He began but I interrupted him.

"Cut the act, Langdon.” I snapped, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. “This psychotic bitch with her ridiculous rules is already sucking our blood, I don’t want another arrogant dick here, who thinks he can intimidate us. We both know this isn't a real interview. Even if Sanctuary is true, selection is just part of your manipulation."

Langdon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh really?" He stood from the table and slowly started to circle me, like a shark circling wounded man in the water. I instinctively followed his movements with my eyes. "And why would I come to the Outpost then?" He stopped behind me, leaning closer, his breath warm against my ear.

I felt my breath hitch as he came closer, his breath sending a shiver through my body. I resisted the urge to lean away, instead sitting ramrod straight in my chair.

"You tell me," I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of the unease I was feeling. He continued to circle me, his presence making the room feel even smaller.

Langdon chuckled at my response, his footsteps echoing around me as he completed his circle. He stopped in front of me. Smile gone.

“You are scared. It’s okay to be scared.” His calmness filled my mind with anger.

“I’m not.”

He smiled and leaned closer, resting his hands on the back of my chair, boxing me in with his arms.

“Of course you are,” he chuckled. His gaze fixed on mine. “And you should be.”

His arms on either side of my chair made me feel trapped. I could feel the power radiating from his body, and I had to fight the urge to lean back. I inhaled his smell, expensive cologne. Sweet, yet bitter, he smelled like dominance. It was hypnotic.

His chuckle was almost mocking as if he knew the effect he was having on me. I raised my chin defiantly.

"Why would I be scared of you?" I retorted, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You are nothing more than the obedient dog of The Cooperative.”

As words rolled out my mouth, I almost immediately regretted saying them. His smirk faded, eyes flashed with irritation and something even worse. I felt fear scratching my heart.

"Careful," he warned, calmly. "I'd watch your tongue if I were you. You don’t want to lose it, do you?”

I swallowed hard, my bravado wavering under his intense gaze. His threat lingered in the air like a shadow, and I knew he meant it.

"I'm not intimidated by your empty threats," I managed to say, without thinking. Dumb bitch.

Langdon chuckled darkly, and the sound made goosebumps rise on my skin. Before I could say anything, his hand shot out and wrapped around my throat, not really choking me, but just enough to be a warning.

"Empty threats?" he repeated, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You think I'm bluffing?" His grip tightened slightly, causing a gasp to escape my lips. I could feel my eyes widen in panic, but I tried to maintain a brave expression. “Tsk, tsk, I can already imagine how nice it would be to cut out that pretty tongue of yours.”

I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips at his threat. His grip on my throat was strong, constricting just enough to make me gasp for breath.

"You... you wouldn't dare," I somehow managed to squeak out, my voice sounding weak and fearful.

“Oh you think your pathetic life costs anything?” he leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “I could stab your stomach and rip out your little heart with my bare hand and no one could stop me.”

His words stung like a physical blow, and I felt my heart race in panic. He was deadly serious, looking at me like I was nothing more than a nuisance.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please don't."

Langdon's hand tightened the grip around my throat. He smiled at my pleading, a cold, cruel smile.

"Begging already?" he asked, his voice mocking. "And after you so bravely challenged me."

My hands scrambled to pull away his wrist, trying to loosen his tight grip on my throat. I couldn't speak, could barely gasp for air.

His smile widened at my futile struggle, he enjoyed playing. He leaned closer, his face inches away from mine.

"This is what happens when you challenge someone with power," he murmured. "You get humbled."

I was unable to say a word, strangled by his hand, tears starting to well up in my eyes. The room started to spin, and my vision became disoriented.

“Still, have hesitation about my authority?” he asked, his tone almost soothing.

"N-no... no..." I managed to choke out.

His hand released its grip on my throat, allowing me to gasp for air. My body slumped against the chair, trembling uncontrollably. I took a moment to recover from his grip, my heart still pounding and my breath shaky. I felt smaller under his gaze, like a mouse trapped under the eye of a snake.

Langdon chuckled at my reaction, his eyes glinting with cruel enjoyment. "Pathetic," he said, the word dripping with derision.

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, and I knew he was relishing every moment of my humiliation.

Langdon reached out, his fingers gripping my chin tightly, forcing me to look at him. His touch was rough, a stark contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he spoke.

"Now can you listen to me?"

I nodded weakly, my throat still sore from his assault. Langdon saw the fear in my eyes, and his smile widened at the sight.

"Good," he murmured, his hand slowly releasing my chin.

His gaze never left me, his eyes scrutinizing every reaction I made.

"You were smart enough to figure out the whole interview thing," he said, his tone casual yet calculating. "But you're not smart enough to know when to keep that pretty mouth shut." Langdon chuckled, a twisted sound that made me flinch. "Still, I appreciate the fire," he said. "Most of the other 'interviewees' are a little too... shallow, I’d prefer most of them dead by evening."

His eyes never left mine, studying me intently. I tried to hide any emotion.

"They all tremble before the thought of going to The Sanctuary and willing to please me in any way. But you're…," he continued. "You're unfortunately not satisfied with just being an obedient pretty face. No, you have an attitude. And that, my dear, is your undoing."

“M’sorry.” I breathed out quietly.

"Apologies mean nothing," he said smiling. "The main thing is understanding how everything works. So tell me, did you truly understand the lesson here, or does your pretty little head need another reminder?" His tone was cold and condescending, making me feel even smaller.

The fear that had subsided slightly came rushing back, cold and constricting - raw.

"No, no, I..." I stammered. "I understand."

Langdon chuckled. "See, now that wasn't that difficult, was it?" he crooned, his hand reaching out to trace a finger along my jawline. His touch was mocking, a cruel gesture that sent a shiver of disgust through me and I diligently tried to hide it. It was hard not to move away. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Now we can have a productive talk.” He said, turning away from me. “You have brains, I’ll give you that. So why not put them in use, hm?”

I could feel a slight sense of relief as he turned away from me, but it was quickly replaced by a wary uncertainty. His change in demeanor was unpredictable, and I had no idea what was coming next.

"What... what do you mean?" I asked, my voice betraying my unease.

He began pacing back and forth in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You're clever, resourceful... more useful from. And I hate to see potential go to waste."

He stopped in front of me, his eyes studying me intently. I could practically feel the gears in his mind turning as he weighed his words.

"But the problem is, you're stubborn," he said finally. "And that stubbornness leads to insolence."

He leaned in, his face mere inches away from mine. The smell of his cologne hit my nose again. Crisp and masculine scent.

"And insolence, my dear," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Is a trait I don't tolerate."

“I understand that.” I said semi-calmly.

“Oh, you are a quick learner as well.” he murmured. “Good girl.” His tone was still mocking, and I hated how the praise sent a flicker of warmth through me. I tried to remain stoic, but his words were starting to chip away at my defenses.

He stepped back, his gaze still locked on me.

"I have an offer for you," he said. "An offer that could benefit us both, if you play your cards right."

“What offer?”

“I want you,” he began. “To work for me.”

“Work for you?” I asked dumbly.

He chuckled at my confusion, enjoying my surprise.

"Yes, work for me," he confirmed. "You'll be doing research, digging up information on others, doing necessary tasks, anything I need. Think you can handle that, hm?"

“But… how?” I wasn’t expecting that offer at all. And how the fuck should I dig on others?

Langdon smiled at my question, obviously finding it amusing that I wasn't catching on.

"How?" he echoed. "You seemed smarter a few minutes ago."

He leaned against the table again, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You'll be my eyes and ears, gathering intel for me. You'll tell me everything you see, hear or feel. And in return… I’ll put in a good word for you with the members of the Cooperative."

I sat there, watching him silently.

He waited a moment, letting his words sink in. He was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head," he began. "You're thinking about all the possibilities, aren't you? Life at The Sanctuary is heaven if you are friends with the authorities." He smirked.

He was right. The possibilities were spinning in my head like a whirlpool.

But I knew there was a catch. People like Langdon never offered anything without expecting something in return. Something much bigger than collecting information.

“What’s the catch?”

He smirked at my question. His eyes were glittering with satisfaction, clearly enjoying his little game.

"Ah, are you always so suspicious or am I an exception?" he asked, tilting his head a bit.

“You think I shouldn’t be suspicious of the man who almost choked me to death a few minutes ago?” My tone filled with venom and I bit my tongue, afraid to anger him again.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it was just a friendly reminder” he said leaning closer to me, whispering. “And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that, you are bad at hiding it.”

My heart skipped a beat, a mix of anger and embarrassment rushing through me.

"Enjoy that?" I shot back. "Why would I enjoy being strangled by a sick psychopath?"

He smirked at my outburst, seemingly unfazed by my anger.

"Now now, no need for name-calling," he said with mock hurt. "You can lie to yourself if it gives you comfort, but I saw the way you reacted, the way your body tensed, and the way your pupils dilated."

His gaze roamed over me in an almost predatory manner, making me feel exposed.

“Anyway, we have more important things to discuss than your sexual desires.” He smirked. “Accept my offer?”

His brazen, almost predatory manner was as infuriating as it was intoxicating. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment, but I refused to look away.

"Accept your offer..." I echoed, trying to sound strong. "You haven't exactly explained the full extent of this 'job' you're offering. I need more details before I can even consider it." I forced the words past my lip.

“It’s easy. You are loyal to me and I promise you protection. It’s always useful to have an intelligent, pretty head on your side.” he said, looking me up and down. “Before me, you were all alone among bastards, but now I offer you my hand and I really don't recommend biting it.”

“So I have to become a backstabber?”

"No, my dear, you're thinking too low. You won't be backstabbing anyone. You'll merely be... helping me to form a new society. " He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Don’t tell me you are afraid of getting your hands bloody, I saw the way you look at Ms. Venable. You are bloodthirsty."

My eyes widened at his observation. I wasn't surprised he had caught on to my hatred for Ms. Venable, but hearing him say it out loud was another matter.

"I'm not scared of getting my hands dirty," I said, my voice firm despite the shiver that ran down my spine. "I'm just not fond of being used."

Langdon sat on the edge of the table and smiled, almost genuine, he looked at me like I was a little kid.

“Come here.” he said calmly and beckoned me with the nod of his head.

I hesitated, not sure whether to obey his command or not. I slowly stood up and walked over to him, stopping a few feet away from him. It was crazy how he was radiating comfort and dominance at the same time.

“Closer. I won’t bite.”

I stepped closer and his hand reached to stroke my hair.

“You are special.” His voice was surprisingly gentle as he spoke. His fingers tangled in my hair, his touch both soothing and possessive. “You can achieve a lot or… stay here and rot with others.”

His words were like a cold bucket of water, snapping me out of the odd comfort I found myself in. I knew he was right, of course. Staying here meant settling for a life on the sidelines, living in fear and boredom. Or just die.

"You don't play fair, do you?" I said, my voice tinged with irritation. "One second you're choking me, the next you're stroking my hair and promising me the world."

"And why should I play fair, hm? Rules don't work anymore here, chaos has won." He leaned closer.

I found myself smiling despite myself. It was probably still a shock. My mind couldn't keep up with what was happening. There was a dangerous charisma to him, an irresistible charm that I couldn't quite explain.

"That’s a convenient excuse for you to do whatever you want," I shot back, trying to sound defiant. "No rules means no boundaries."

Langdon chuckled again, his smirk widening. His hand slid down from my hair to rest on my throat again, his thumb brushing against my pulse.

"Careful," he warned, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I might start thinking you're enjoying this a bit too much." I freeze. “And about the rules… I prefer bending them, instead of breaking."

I didn’t answer, waiting for him to continue. He smiled, clearly enjoying my reaction. His thumb traced lazy circles on my throat, making my pulse quicken involuntarily.

“You don’t want to die here, do you?” He whispered in my ear. “It would be a shame if such potential would remain undisclosed…” His hand moved lower, gently touching my collarbone. “In this body.”

His touch ignited a strange fire inside me. I desperately tried to ignore the way my body reacted to him, the way my heart raced and my skin tingled where he touched me.

"You make it sound like I'm a ticking time bomb." My voice came out a little breathier than I intended.

"Oh, don’t sell yourself short, darling," Langdon purred. "You’re more like a grenade. A beautiful, deadly grenade.” His hand caressed my skin. “So… Do we have a deal, Ms. Y/N?”

I stared down at the floor, then back at Langdon, my gaze calculating. After a few seconds I nodded. “Deal.”

“Wise.” He smiled. “Now let’s make that official.”

His left hand went to grab my waist, while the other reached out to take something from the table. Small dagger. I instinctively tried to pull back, but his grip on me was unwavering

“No need to be scared, little lamb.” He handed me the weapon with the hilt forward.

“Official?” I echoed.

“Yes. Deal in blood.” His answer made my body flinch.

The cool metal of the dagger felt heavy and unfamiliar in my hand.

“Aren't you afraid that I would stab you?” I asked him, trying to hide my fear.

Langdon chuckled darkly, liking the question.

"You wouldn't dare," he said with absolute confidence. "You're far too smart and too… intrigued by me to do something so foolish."

His eyes glittered dangerously like he was daring me to prove him wrong. "And besides... I have a feeling you're far more interested in finding out what it would be like to be on my good side."

He directed my hand, in which the dagger was clutched, and leaned the tip against the palm of his left hand. “Cut.”

I watched in fascination and slight horror as the blade made a small incision in his hand, a thin line of blood forming on his palm. He didn’t even flinch, his gaze locked on mine the entire time. It awakened in me something feral.

“Now you,” he said, his voice low and steady.

He grabbed my hand, his grip gentle but firm, and guided the knife to my palm. The sharp pain was muffled by his lips on my cheek. The warm blood slowly pooled in my palm.

He pressed his wounded hand against mine, the touch inflicted pain. The blood from his hand mingled with mine, the warmth and stickiness of it a strange and yet somehow comforting sensation.

"And with that..." he said, his voice hushed. "Our deal is sealed."

I felt the burning urge to press my lips to his. Without clearly thinking I leaned to his face, kissing him hungrily. He didn’t return the kiss, but didn’t pull away either.

"Now, now, dear," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Don't get ahead of yourself. No need to complicate things…"

His gaze flicked down to my lips, his own curving into a smug smile. I was ashamed of my bold move and confused by his stubbornness. He was a man after all, wasn’t he?

"Complicate?" I repeated, my voice tinged with sarcasm. "Says the one who just made me swear a blood pact."

Langdon chuckled, amused by my attempt at irritation. "Ah, don't pout," he said, his hand moving to gently cup my jaw.

"Just because I'm not giving in to your every desire doesn't mean I’m inaccessible.” He leaned closer to my ear. "But keep pushing, darling. I do love it when you act up, maybe next time you wil get lucky." He carelessly brushed his lips along my wound, making me whimper quietly, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment. God, he is killing me.

Langdon pulled back, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His hand left my jaw, and I found myself missing the feel of his touch already. I leaned forward, wanting him to touch me.

"Ah ah ah," he tutted, his voice mockingly chiding. "I can practically feel your eagerness, my dear. But I'm afraid I can't have you slacking off on our deal."

He gestured lazily to the door. "You should return to your routine. Can’t have Ms. Venable catching you slinking around here for too long."

I bristled at his order, but I knew he was right. I nodded grudgingly.

"Fine."

I started to walk toward the door, my wounded hand throbbing a little from the recent events. But before I reached the threshold, Langdon's voice stopped me.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

I turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

His eyes were glinting mischievously.

"A word of advice," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Try to control that urge of yours. It's going to get you in trouble..." He paused, his gaze roaming up and down my body. "Or is it already too late?"

“Check it yourself next time,” I answered boldly and grabbed the door handle.

I couldn’t see his face, but was sure that he was amused.

"I might just take you up on that offer." I heard his smooth voice, as I left the room. "Off you go, little lamb."

I shut the door behind me and leaned on it with my back. Probably that’s what it feels like to sell your soul to the Devil.

Have a good day <3

#i feel shame for no actual reason #ahs fandom #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #apocalypse #michael langdon x you #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #antichrist #devil x reader #malcolm gallant

127 notes · View notes

saintzweig · 1 month ago

Note

are we gonna be getting pro-tennis player patrick zweig x younger socialite girlfriend headcanons

-bambi

ask and you shall receive my favorite oomf girliism 🫶 this is more on fluff n just some background :)

ꢾ꣒ the two of you met through your father, once a professional tennis player who now spends his time doing charities and building foundations.

ꢾ꣒ you usually help your father handle the affairs, co-directing charities events, galas and dinners.

ꢾ꣒ patrick was reluctant to go the first time he was invited but tashi and art convinced him it would be good for his image, to save his career from reputation as a manwhore and his sloppy techniques.

ꢾ꣒ got bored not even five minutes in and tried to flirt with you to get you to come with him to the bathroom.

ꢾ꣒ you only smiled as you introduced him to your father, who he realized was the man he idolized when he was a kid.

ꢾ꣒ attended every event he got invited to in hopes of seeing you again.

ꢾ꣒ and when he does see you, he's following you around the venue like a lost puppy. he only shrugs and says you're the only person he knows

ꢾ꣒ you finally had enough and drag him to a janitor's closet far away from the room.

ꢾ꣒ i'd say two years since then, you move in together almost immediately, in an apartment gifted by your father.

ꢾ꣒ very secure couple, you know how attractive the other one is so it doesn't really bother you when people try to flirt, if anything it only inflates your ego.

ꢾ꣒ not when they cross the line obviously. even though he trusts you, he still gets protective every now and then. when he sees you looking uncomfortable, he doesn't waste a second and immediately comes to take you away. not without showing off to the person trying to flirt with you of course.

ꢾ꣒ hands you his credit card whenever you say you need new clothes or accessories, even though you can afford it.

ꢾ꣒ his personal driver is also yours, he makes sure to make them sign non-disclosure agreements because some wild shit happens in the backseat.

ꢾ꣒ you have his initials embroidered on your clothes because he once mentioned that he likes the idea of marking you

ꢾ꣒ lets you drag him to countless galas and dinners, even though it's not really his thing

ꢾ꣒ to make up for it, you let him drag you to his morning trainings and sometimes lunches with tashi and art

ꢾ꣒ he's also a fan favorite in your friend group, you brought him to a girl brunch once and everyone loved him. i think he'd be so good at spilling and receiving tea

ꢾ꣒ always on the front row during his games, wearing his favorite colors

ꢾ꣒ it's impossible for him to lose now that he has you, you bring him so much confidence but also he just really wants to prove himself to you.

ꢾ꣒ talks about you a lot during interviews even when the question has nothing to do with you or your relationship. also his lock screen is always a photo of you, a selfie or a professional photo taken during fashion week.

ꢾ꣒ makes a game out of guessing the color of your underwear

ꢾ꣒ he'd be the type to rip them and assure you he'd buy you new ones. so that's where his money is going

ꢾ꣒ inappropriate touches under the table is definitely one of his hobbies, as well as sneaking into bathrooms during events

ꢾ꣒ also car sex ... very often ... he loves seeing you all disheveled as you lay on the seat beneath him. all sweaty with your mascara and lipstick smudged on your face. your lace panties hanging off your foot.

ꢾ꣒ when he retires, that's when you two finally settle down completely. moving out of your apartment into a proper house, with the goal of filling it with kids.

ꢾ꣒ the two of you build a tennis academy where he teaches and mentors younger aspiring tennis players

ꢾ꣒ also the wedding was big, i'm talking the best venues and decorations. over a hundred guests due to your connections and standing, it was all over the internet too. most fashionable new york socialite and grand slam winner ties the knot.

ꢾ꣒ three kids, two boys and one girl. his favorite one is definitely his little girl.

ꢾ꣒ he's definitely come a long way and he has you to thank for that.

#challengers #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers headcanons #patrick zweig x reader #saintzweig writes ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅#saintzweig yaps ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

78 notes · View notes

galebrainrot2024 · 8 months ago

Text

GalexFemYou Boat Scene 18+

Summary: FemReaderxGale NSFW 18+ on the boat in the astral plane after you and Gale discuss the crown. Tried to be a little slower and tender in this one. Done at the request of another, thank you for the idea! :) Content: Explicit and slow piv sex, Minors DNI!

Master List | Read on Ao3

“I don’t think I deserve you at times - I told you of my ambitions, the likes of which many would baulk at - and yet, you remain at my side. Permit me to show you something, please? Indulge me - a little boat voyage, that’s all.”

Despite your hesitation, you obliged - Gale meant more than words could express and you knew you’d do whatever you needed to help him see that.

“Astra navigabimus.” As he uttered the words, you felt your consciousness and body shift, pulling away from the material plane and cast elsewhere. It was jarring and surreal, yet you kept your eyes shut, trusting Gale implicitly.

“Few mortals ever glimpse what you’re about to see,” Gale said in a husky, quiet voice as his warm hand engulfed yours. “Don’t be alarmed, I’m here with you. Open your eyes.”

You inhaled, the air around you a chilled mist. Goosebumps undulated across your skin as your eyes fluttered open, absorbing the impossible swirls of purple and blue iridescence that surrounded you. As you drift on the small wooden boat, your fingers lithely traced the air, trying to capture the gossamer fog.

You turned to Gale, his face bright and the impossible colors swirled in his dark eyes. “The outer planes… this is where gods dwell. Where they observe us from afar. Where they make play things of us.” He frowned, gesturing to the skies, “They would keep all of this from us - the power, the possibilities. They only want us to serve them, pray to them… die for them. What if we didn’t need them and welded their power instead to help ourselves in all the ways they refuse to?” Gale’s voice was thick with anticipation and delirium, “I could make that happen. I could make this illusion a reality… with you by my side.”

You froze, gripped by the possibility of what he offered. You’d be lying if you said the thought wasn’t tantalizing… yet, as he sat here before you, pleading and desperate for approval, you knew that Gale - the man before you - was enough. He would always be enough. When was the last time he’d been told that?

Had he ever been told?

“I don’t need the stars, Gale,” you laced your fingers with his and brought his palm to your lips, brushing them against the skin. “I have you.”

Your romantic gesture fell on deaf ears as Gale insisted: “Then have me, but have the best, possible version of me. The tadpole, the orb, these threats to our existence, the gods could aid us if they wished and instead they cower behind Ao. With the power of the crown, any foe would be rendered impotent, any obstacle dwarfed by our might.” Gale sighed, clutching your hands like a penitent seeking redemption. “I used to believe Mystra was worth dying for. I was wrong. You showed me how much I have to live for. With you, I forget my goddess.” Your heart thrummed violently, threatening to jump from your throat and your body instinctively began to scoot forward, craving him. “I love you. Tell me you feel the same, that you want what I want… please..” Gale’s voice broke and you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands and rested your forehead to his.

“I love you for the man you are,” you said, brushing your lips tenderly to his and he shuddered, emitting a gentle groan. Your knees were flush to his and you moved forward, chasing the adrenaline that flowed through your veins like a raging river.

“Think of what I offer, the vastness of eternity, the Weave at our fingertips… you’d really prefer me as I am?” Gale looked into your eyes, the dark pools beseeching earnestly for your truth. Could you mean it?

“You’re everything I need you to be,” you murmured before allowing your fingers to twine into his hair, pulling him close as your lips captured his. His gentle moan ignited the blaze within you and you feel the heat between your thighs stir.

Gale returned your kiss passionately, hungrily, a man starved with disbelief that mortality would be enough. “I hope you’re right. Godly power I can live without but you - you’re everything.” His hands ran up your thighs, brushing against the soft skin and teasingly trailed closer to the source of your desire. “You put the stars to shame… let’s sit here awhile, I want to drink you in.” He brushed his tongue across your lower lip before he sought entrance, your tongues gliding together in the familiar wonton dance. He tasted faintly of earl gray and something rich - perhaps a lingering flavor of the nights meal.

Your bodies entangled with familiarity, and you felt Gale’s smirk widen against your lips. He pulled back for a moment to caress your cheek and rested his forehead to yours, “Would you be opposed to staying here a bit longer?” He murmured as his fingers traced the edge of your shirt, tickling your torso beneath. You shivered, feeling the electricity burn and you whimpered as his cool hands pulled the shirt over your head. He licked his lips as his eyes consumed you, his pupils blown wide with desire, his cheeks flushed a dark pink. You shook your head, the bitter mist shrouding you as heat swelled in your center.

Gale leaned forward, his lips brushing against the freckles that littered your shoulder and your hands trailed under his shirt, lifting. He obliged, leaning backward as you slowly pulled his shirt off. Typically, Gale and you would ravage one another if given the opportunity.

Tonight, though, felt different. You craved him tenderly, wanting each moment to be a standalone symphony. You traced the orb, how its tendrils licked up his neck and brought your lips to the pattern. He sighed, pulling you closer to him and the seats of the boat seemed to de-materialize as you and Gale stared at one another, admiring.

A plush blanket appeared beneath you and you rose a brow curiously as your fingers ran over the sensual fabric. Gale wrapped his arms around your torso to pull you into his lap. Your legs circled his waist and you cupped his face in yours, allowing your lips to meet in a supple, painfully slow kiss. You moaned as his tongue sought yours, as he slipped it into your mouth greedily, your hips rolling against his for friction. You felt the girth between his thighs stir as your hips rocked and you pressed yourself tighter to him as the kiss deepened. The carnal need grew, rooted in your core as the lustful dance began.

Gale’s lithe fingers hooked into the waist of your pants and you gasped, the iciness of his touch juxtaposing the primal heat pooling within you. He took his time unlacing your pants before pushing them unhurriedly down. His eyes flick down to your clothed sex and you heard him intake his breath sharply. Gale leaned forward, kissing you lecherously. Each move of his tongue was precise and painfully slow, and you felt your body begin to squirm impatiently. You felt him grin against your lips as he cupped your chin and pulled your face closer to his as his tongue indulged.

Your fingers clumsily worked to remove his trousers and he chuckled, “Let me lend you a hand,” he said as his fingers grazed yours. He shook out of the pants and your eyes widened as you admired the firm tent pressed against his underwear. He guided your hand, slipping it beneath his underwear and he groaned as your fingers wrapped around his arousal. He was warm, firm and you felt a surge of dripping arousal soak your underwear. He groaned as your hand circled him and began to deftly pump, matching his agonizingly steady pace. His fingers sought entrance between the cloth of your undergarments and sex and trailed along your inner thigh, right where the seam met your skin.

You mewled, grinding your hips against his, feeling his erection glide against your covered arousal. Your hand worked quicker before his hand covered yours, his breath hot and quiet as he murmured, “Let’s take our time tonight…” Your body was desperate, wanted to move with a vicious urgency yet Gale continued with such excruciating gentleness. A light brush would likely be enough to send you off the cliff.

His fingers found their way beneath your underwear and you squirmed, seeking him and friction. He chuckled darkly before slipping his fingers away, “The more impatient you are, the longer I’ll wait…” he teased and you leaned forward, biting into his neck. The sinful noise that fell from his lips sent another wave of arousal through you.

“Gale, please,” you begged, your wetness seeping from your underwear and onto his, leaving evidence of your need. Gale traced your lips with his fingers and you shivered, licking the fingers before you before pulling them into your mouth. Gale groaned, his hips bucking upwards into you as you sucked on his fingers. “Touch me,” you whimpered against his fingers and he brought his slick hand into your underwear.

“Rather needy tonight,” Gale teased again and he moaned as his fingers slipped between your folds, “Gods, how divine… how eager you are for me…” as he slid his fingers between your thighs you rolled your hips, whimpering again. His thumb circled your clit, the movements unrushed despite your protests. Gale kissed you again as you gripped his shaft, encircling him as you toyed with him, wanting to feel him inside of you. Gale, as if reading your mind, said, “Have you been patient enough?”

You shook your head, moving your hips, deprived of his fingers. You felt him slip a few into you then, stretching you slowly and massaging you. The sudden entrance made you shudder violently and your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers pressing into his back as you moaned. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck, biting down to stifle your unholy sounds.

“No need to suppress yourself,” Gale murmured, pushing your hair back as he thrusted his fingers harder into you, forcing your body to tighten around him with arousal. “I want to hear you,” he demanded, pressing deeper into you and against the deepest source of your arousal. You cried out and bit down on his neck again.

You lifted your hips, bringing them down onto his fingers and you mumbled against his neck, “I need you, I need more…”

“Woe be it from me to deny you…” he murmured, pushing your underwear off your body and did the same to himself. He held himself for a moment, stabilizing as you brought your hips over his erection. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you gazed into his lustful, brown pools and felt him fill you. Your mouth watered as you brought yourself down deliberately only allowing the tip of him in.

He whimpered, thrusting his hips up and you pulled back, smirking. “Why the rush?” You retorted and he growled, surrendering to you. You rolled your hips before bringing yourself fully over him, allowing him to stretch you full and welcomed him into your slick cunt. You both moaned as he filled you and he thrusted into you aggressively, gripping your hips. Your lips brush against his neck, his jaw, until your tongues are tangled again and he drove into you. Your bodies moved of their own accord now, both of you desperate for release and pleasure, the sensations overwhelming. Every fiber of your being thrummed with sin and you moved quicker, pulling him deeper into you and clenching around his erection. He moaned as you did, gripping your waist tighter, using his other hand to pull your hair back and kiss you. Sweat began to cover you both as your movements became carnal, needy - your breathing jagged and unsteady as you felt yourself swell with bliss and ecstasy.

“I….” Gale moaned, the kiss sloppy and wet, “I… please…” his voice was raspy and deep as he thrusted violently into you and you cried out, begging for more, needing more. Abruptly he flipped you over so you were on your stomach, he hovering over you and pulled your hair back to kiss you. You moaned as you felt him enter you again from behind, your hips rolling backward to bring him further into you. He held your hair to steady himself, the pain from the pull overstimulating as he filled you. Your mouth was full of hot saliva and you whimpered as he grew more urgent, your bodies moving together in a steady, unholy rhythm. He pushed so hard against you that you felt a sharp pain and cried out, enough that he paused for a moment to whisper into your ear, “Are you alright?” And you nod, delirious from the pleasure, and you heard him whisper, “Come for me, then.”

You press your face into the blanket and muffle your cries as he pumps deeper, harder, and his hand wraps in front of you for his thumb to circle your clit. It’s too much. You writhed and every cell in your body seized, tensing in preperation until you heard him groan gutturally, his hot climax filling you as your own climax roiled through you. The unadulterated bliss that pulsed through you was divine, both of your bodies moving in shared harmony, in your shared symphony of pleasure. Gale collapsed onto you, his lips pressing to your ear and neck as he murmured praises, how much he loved you, how much he adored you and when your breath returned to you, you rolled onto your back, cupping his face in your hands. “Mortality has its perks..” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as you smirked.

Gale laughed, pulling you tighter to his chest, kissing your forehead. You settled into a comfortable silence, allowing the boat to rock you as you both marveled at how lucky you both were to have one another. “I can’t wait to explore your body a thousand more ways… eternity wouldn’t be enough for me.”

#gale smut #gale bg3 smut #gale of waterdeepthroat #gale fanfic #gale kiss #gale angst #gale fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 gale fanfiction #bg3 gale fanfic #gale x femreader

230 notes · View notes

uglypastels · 1 year ago

Text

Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au

a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process

Series Masterlist

word count: 14.3k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.

there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.

Chapter 10: Lock and Key

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed.

‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water.

All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists.

‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.

‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’

The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been.

That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.

You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough?

They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on.

‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them.

‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks.

You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting.

‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath.

You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing. You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again.

Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.

Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up.

‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.

‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’

‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons.

You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.

‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.

‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.

Once, you would have walked these halls alone, with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest.

The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero.

Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her.

‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’

The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh.

Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere.

You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture.

Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…

You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side.

Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration. You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair.

Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners.

‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.

‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.

‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.

‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step.

You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.

‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’

‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’

‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.

‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’

‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

‘From any danger, miss.’

‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’

‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.

‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’

‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’

‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least.

‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’

‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’

‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’

‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors.

No survivors. He killed them all. He had—

‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed.

‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?

‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.

Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.

Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’

‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’

At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.

‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’

‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly.

For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat. After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them.

‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’

You huffed out a breath and walked away.

The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence.

You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.

It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.

I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.

The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first.

What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…

It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.

The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.

‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.

‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him.

‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’

‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.

‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.

‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears.

‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’

‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’

‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject.

‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’

‘That’s her. She’s right here.’

‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’

‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’

‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’

‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’

‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’

‘Sold his soul to the devil!’

Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’

‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’

‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.

‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’

‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’

‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question.

‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’

‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off.

‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’

‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad.

Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you.

On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on.

‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.

‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive.

‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.

‘Am I on house arrest?’

‘See it more as a curfew.’

You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room.

How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.

‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair.

It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging.

You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out.

You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall.

‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done.

‘Is that so?’ your father munched away.

‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added.

Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on.

‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.

‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.

‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration.

‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.

‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.

‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.

‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’

‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb.

‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”.

The kitchen.

Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself.

As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf.

You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.

You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.

Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.

Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open.

You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.

As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone.

He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.

What were you doing here? You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’

Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move.

‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this.

He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.

‘I know, I look ridiculous.’

‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.

This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’

‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.

‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’

Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’

‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was. You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’

‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’ he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink.

‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive.

‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching.

‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’

At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’

‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’

Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end.

‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’

As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore. He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath.

‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm.

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?

‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any.

‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.

‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.

‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.

‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly.

‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’

‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.

‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.

‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off.

Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting.

‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms.

‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’

‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.

‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’

You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on.

‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’

‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed.

Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.

‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’

He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you.

– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat?

– Bled out on the ship.

– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.

‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone.

‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’

You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back.

‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’

‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek.

‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’

He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’

You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story.

Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’

‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.

‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did.

‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.

‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong. Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them.

‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’

The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse? But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives.

‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’

‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’

‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips,

‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’

‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs.

‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’

‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.

‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.

‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.

‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.

‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’

‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out.

Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips.

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’

‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you.

When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.

It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.

You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.

There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape.

This could not be the end.

But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.

Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.

The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays.

You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.

But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.

‘I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’

‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’

‘And I heard—’

‘I heard—’

I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this.

The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing.

A slow and painful death.

The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.

Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you.

Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace.

He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.

The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read:

‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council.

‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’

You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements.

The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin.

The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.

But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.

‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life:

‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’

People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—

The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else.

When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers.

If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you.

Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still.

You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you.

The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly.

You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.

This could not be the end.

And you were one of the first people to hear of it.

First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.

But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.

‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’

‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.

‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’

‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’

The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’

‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else.

You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned.

Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him.

Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby.

Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.

The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on.

This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson.

It wasn’t.

For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth.

In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.

I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body.

I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!

Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives!

Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island.

They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind.

Unnoticed by anyone…but you.

Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late…

You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.

You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach.

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.

‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could.

With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly.

Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’

‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms.

‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’

‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more.

‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’

‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’

You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.

‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free.

‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly.

‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.

‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’

‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’

He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.

‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’

‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything.

‘Yes.’

‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.

‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go.

You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.

‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’

The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand.

‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.

Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.

You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.

The End.

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging. I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P

taglist:

@spiderrrling @nope-thanks @seventhlevelofhell @strangerfreak @hangmanscoming @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @vintagehellfire @raven-rust @eddiesguitarskills @imjusteddietrashatthispoint @lunar-corgimon

@theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington @billyhargrovesprincess @annikin-im-panicin @

@kaitieskidmore1 @yesv01 @princess-aries @m4riesworld @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixontardis @nataliastranqe @dark-academia-slut @3am-waterbottle

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson au #pirate!eddie #pirate!eddie munson #pirate!au #au #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #slow burn #pirates

465 notes · View notes

ghostlynachopanda · 2 years ago

Text

Marks

a/n: Grammarly surprisingly liked this one but I didn’t read so lmk if grammarly is wrong. Also I’m tired :) here’s this one pals

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 1.4k

~~~

It was an accident. Wednesday didn’t mean for it to happen — but she couldn't help how much she enjoyed it. If anyone asked, she'd say you were completely at fault. After all, there was no one to blame but you.

Every time you moved to make contact she had to meet you in the middle. Lacing your fingers together, leaning into one another, and gently brushing of thighs from sitting so close. Why she did that was simple; Wednesday cherished any physical contact with you; as small as it may be.

Naturally, whenever you leaned in to kiss her she did the same. She couldn't help herself, not when you were alone. The feeling of your lips brushing against hers is incomparable. The feeling of your hands on her was something she wouldn't hesitate to kill for.

Wednesday thought being close to you would be enough — touching you as she pleased. But it wasn't. It never was when her feeble-minded classmates still tried to take you away from her. She'd blame you for being so utterly addicting.

After witnessing her imbecilic classmates try their hand at you, she couldn't stop herself — not that she tried. She dragged you to her dorm after class, pushing you onto her bed before kissing you. She kissed you with more force than she dared in the past. Aiming to take your breath away, to show you she's superior to any of them.

When she pulled away and looked at you, her breath was forced from her chest. Your chest was heaving, your lips were unnaturally red and swollen, and your cheeks were dark. The sight made something warm sprout in her chest.

The realization she did that dawned on her. You look beautiful. Instinctively, she crawled into your lap she smashed her lips against yours. She wanted to see just how disheveled you would get for her — because of her.

Wednesday let her lips wander this time. Paying special attention to your neck, cognizant of any sounds you were making. Your head rolled back, putting your hands on her hips to keep her close. Both of you got trapped in the heat of the moment. Letting yourselves feel each other.

She was so enthralled by you that she missed the sound of keys and the door opening.

A loud yelp caused both of you to whip your heads toward the sound. Both of you look up just in time to see Enid running back out the door. Wednesday made a mental note to kill Enid for ruining the atmosphere. You leaned back, throwing your arms over your face to hide the growing embarrassment.

Wednesday turned back to look at you. Seeing your cheeks red for a completely different reason made her crack a small amused smile. She opened her mouth to mock you when her eyes made their way to the rest of you. Your neck is now painted in numerous colors, and your clothes askew showing off some of your collarbone.

Wednesday's mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened in the realization of just how much Enid saw. Yes, she was going to hunt her down. She moved with the intent to kill her roommate when she gets her hands on her. You stopped her before she could get far.

You wore a humorous smile and shook your head at her, "You can get her tomorrow. I'm sure she'd be impossible to find right now,"

"Are you doubting my skills?" Wednesday asked, eyes narrowing at the implication.

"No, of course not. I trust you'd be able to find her no matter the situation-" you tried to explain.

"Good, then I'm going," she said.

You stopped her from moving again, this time by grabbing her wrist. You thought for a moment, wondering what the best course of action is. Sure, you wanted to protect Enid but the desire to keep Wednesday close was greater.

"Why don't we get washed up and go to sleep. It's almost curfew. I really don’t want to get caught trying to sneak back in again," you proposed sheepishly.

Wednesday looked at you for a moment, thinking about what you had just said. Enid would most likely get caught by someone monitoring the halls. However, she wanted to do the torturing and punish herself. But she'd be damned if she missed the chance to fall asleep next to you.

Wednesday sighed, "Fine, tell Enid she better sleep with one eye open."

"Sure thing," you replied easily. Watching her move to grab you some comfortable clothes. You let your thoughts meander, thinking about how to apologize to Enid but also keep her from Wednesday's wrath.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. The nightly routine Wednesday shared with you was engraved into both of your minds. Soon, you both found yourselves in bed together, ready to fall asleep. You could feel your eyes start to get heavy when Wednesday broke the silence,

"You look lovely," she whispered to herself. You let a small smile ghost over your face while falling asleep. Wednesday followed shortly after, thinking about how the next day will go.

---

When Wednesday woke up the next morning, she was greeted with the sight of your sleeping face. A sight that never failed to make a pleasant feeling flow through her. The next thing she saw was the bruises on your neck. The thought of her moronic classmates seeing them made a mischievous smirk ghost over her lips.

She woke you up a little earlier than necessary, knowing you’d make the trek back to your dorm in her clothes. She watched you leave before starting to get ready herself, noting Enid had yet to come back.

It only took 17 minutes for you to come rushing back into her dorm.

"Wednesday! What is this?!" you asked pointing to your neck, embarrassment laced in your tone.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to," Wednesday responded evenly, not turning to look at you. She always loved teasing you.

"Wednesday.." you whined childishly, dropping your hand to your side.

She glanced at you over her shoulder. Seeing your embarrassed expression made her refrain from smirking. She made an obvious display of looking you over before asking,

"Are you talking about the bruises on your neck?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed loudly.

"Those are commonly called hickeys. They are formed by blood rushing to the-"

"Stop, stop, stop! I know what they are! How am I supposed to walk around like this?" you asked, voice getting quieter with every word.

Wednesday turned to fully face you, raising an eyebrow. "Like you do every day. You seemed to have gotten here just fine-"

"Wednesday.." you whined again, "That's not what I mean,"

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. You exasperatedly sigh and send her a pointed look. Just as you're about to open your mouth the door swings open to reveal Enid.

The blonde eyes you carefully before her eyes move to Wednesday — who is sending her the deadliest glare to date.

"Perfect timing!" you exclaim, "Enid, help me out with-"

Enid turns sharply and yelled, "No, thanks! I choose life!"

When the door slams shut you drop your head defeatedly. You're already slightly tired from all the adrenaline that poured through you in the last 30 minutes. You turn and narrow your eyes on Wednesday.

"I did nothing wrong," she states.

"Just give me one of your jackets so I can go get breakfast," you replied tiredly.

Wednesday turns and walks to her closet. She can't help the small victory smile that breaks out on her face. She rummages through her jackets before finding one that would fit you. She walks back slowly, enjoying watching you squirm. When she holds it out, you snatch it up.

"Geez, if you're going to do it then at least do it in places that aren't visible. It looks like I got attacked by a vampire or something," you mumbled angrily, shrugging on the jacket.

"Are you saying I can leave more?" she asked in her deadpan voice. You know she's teasing you despite her tone.

You look at her while moving the hood to cover your neck, "No, you lost your privileges until further notice." you said with finality.

Wednesday's eyes widen, and she watches you walk to the door. She walks quickly to catch up, "Wait, that might be too cruel." she murmured.

"You reap what you sow, Wednesday"

"You look great wearing my marks. It's your fault," she said, hoping to decrease the punishment.

part 2

I think this one stinks so do NOT let me cook

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638 @tundra1029 @greyscxle-is-taken @the-lazy-turtle

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix

913 notes · View notes

kaciidubs · 1 year ago

Text

Binge Watch [Season 2 - Episode 1]

-🪼 [Jellyfish nonnie]

❣ Summary: You had plans to watch the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen with Jisung - turns out he had something else he'd rather do. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 880 ❣ Warnings: Slight Dom! Reader, Sub! Jisung, smut, fluff, slight humor, no anime spoilers, oral [fem receiving], desperation ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Han is referred to as Jisung, Ji, Sungie, and baby, Reader is referred to as Jagi, and baby, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

"I promise I'll still listen to the show!" He said.

"You won't even notice I'm there, please, Jagi." He begged.

Of course, you and your hubris went on to believe that Han Jisung was capable of multitasking while his head was between your thighs; which turned out just as you thought it would.

"Ji, can you be a little- mm, fuck, you be a little quieter? I can't hear the TV if you keep moaning like that."

You'd barely gotten into the first episode of the newest season of Jujutsu Kaisen and your oral-obsessed boyfriend had already made himself at home between your legs.

After arduously avoiding spoilers as best as you could, today was the day that you both would camp out on the couch in the living room and binge watch all of the episodes that were released.

That is, until he cuddled next to you with those pouty lips and round, pleading eyes as he begged for a quick round before you got started. Of course you denied him, knowing that if you'd given him the pass, then you wouldn't be watching any episodes until well into the afternoon.

No, today was binge watch day, and you would be vigilant and stand your ground against anything that tried to sway your plans.

That vigilance folded like origami the moment he said he'd do all of the work, and turned out to be a beautiful crane when he revealed that all he really wanted to do was give you head.

So, here you were; pajama shorts and panties in a pile on the floor, a couch pillow tucked under your head as you laid across the sofa with Jisung settled perfectly between your legs, lips already shining with your arousal.

"Mm, 'm sorry," he mumbled against your pussy, lifting his head to take a shivering breath, "you taste so good, I can't help it."

"Yeah, well, keep it down - we're missing crucial plot here and there's no time to rewi- Oh my god-"

You tossed your head back onto the pillow it was resting on, a shiver coursing through your body as his tongue met your pussy clit yet again, flicking and swirling around the bud like second nature.

"J-Ji, I'm serious, we made a p-promise!" Despite the discouraging whine in your voice, your hand made its way to the crown of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.

"I-" He released himself from your cunt with a wet slurp, "-said that I would listen, you're the one who's supposed to be watching!"

A flash of colors caught your peripheral, and you turned your head to catch the action happening on the screen - fully invested into the anime once more until you felt Jisung sliding a finger inside of you.

"I thought you only wanted to eat me out, mister." You tried to tease, though your pretty words lost their influence when he slid a second alongside the first, massaging you in a way that made your eyes roll.

You tried your best to focus on the show again, truly you did, but the unrelenting lapping of your boyfriend's tongue along with the steady thrusts of his fingers made dividing your attention ultimately useless.

"Just like that, baby - oh, fuck, your tongue feels amazing."

You could feel him melt at your praise, doubling his efforts and pressing his face impossibly deeper into your pussy - you weren't even sure if he was able to breathe at this point, but he didn't seem too bothered by it.

It wasn't too long until your legs were trembling, fingers tightening in his hair as you found yourself riding his fingers and mouth.

"Y-Yes, yes! Ji, I'm gonna come- 'm gonna come!"

He curled his fingers, flicking his tongue against your clit and sending you tumbling over the edge with a broken moan.

Jisung groaned blissfully, drinking you up like you were an ice cold bottle of water after days in the desert; eager tongue licking around his fingers as they tried to coax more of your cum out of you.

He mumbled something against your clit and you snorted out an airy laugh, "Didn't anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full, baby?"

Loosening your grip on his hair, you watched as he lifted his head from the glory that was between your thighs, face flushed and eyes fogged over in a happiness only a few things could give him.

"We'll have to rewatch the first episode again," he rasped, making a show of licking his shiny lips, "because I definitely wasn't listening to it."

You rolled your eyes, registering the sound of the outro theme playing through the speakers, "Fine, but you better keep your mouth to yourself, you hear me? If you're good then maybe, maybe, I'll let you fuck me after episode five." Emphasizing your point, you clenched your walls around the fingers that were still inside of you, smirking when his jaw dropped.

"Can I eat you out again if we make it through the second episode?"

Grabbing the remote to the TV, you pressed the back arrow and watched the progress bar rewind itself, "I don't know, we'll have to see when we make it to the second episode."

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @bandolls, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @sunnyhonie, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @all4innie, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #jisung smut

251 notes · View notes

sbdskate · 1 year ago

Text

Laws Of Attraction (Part 6) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: language, slight angst, alcohol consumption, mature themes

Word Count: 3,635

A/N: That’s right, I broke the ending into another part which means another chapter is on the way. If you’ve been keeping up, I appreciate you sticking with me through my draughts and generally inconsistent posting schedule. Thank you again for every like, comment, and reblog. Please let me know what you think and enjoy ❤️

The week passed more quickly than you anticipated. You pulled an all-nighter to draft the language you promised. It helped that you couldn’t sleep anyways. You tried to make up for it on the twenty-hour flight from Brazil to Abu Dhabi but again, rest evaded you. It didn’t help that between the travel and the time difference you basically lost a day and a half. You threw yourself deeper into your work as a distraction. You were thankful that there were lots of back and forths of redlines, as expected.

But no matter how busy you kept yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about that damn kiss that had now been tattooed in your mind. You wished it wasn’t good. You wished he had chapped lips and tasted like onions. But it had enveloped you. The way he grabbed you and the feeling of his stubble on your face set off butterflies in your stomach and other places down south. You were pretty sure you saw through space and time and you suddenly had the ability to hear colors.

And even though the kiss was so good, it was made bittersweet by everything that was discussed afterwards. You didn’t miss the warmth leaving his eyes and his obvious disappointment. On one hand, you handled the situation the best way you knew how. You had been very clear in Mexico on the limits of your relationship, that should not have been a surprise to him. Your job was to be professional and you reestablished those boundaries. On the other, you had somehow removed every laugh line from his face. You missed the crinkles around his eyes and the reverberating bravado of his laugh. If there was another way you could have gone about the conversation, it was lost on you. Leaning into the kiss and those feelings surrounding it was legally impossible. He would simply have to pick up his bruised ego and move on, which you were sure wouldn’t be difficult. The thought helped you somewhat – he was still a handsome, charismatic celebrity who could get any girl he wanted. You were one piece of parsley in an endless buffet. Poor little rich boy couldn’t have the one dish he wanted right now, but as soon as the season was over and you went your separate ways, you would be a distant memory he would laugh at in retrospect. Amongst the models, actresses, singers, and influencers he could pick from, he had trauma bonded with his very average and nerdy lawyer during a particularly vulnerable point in his life.

As your thoughts meandered during the course of the long flight, you were appreciative that you would not be on your own this weekend. The partner apparently decided to show up in Abu Dhabi, finally making Daniel a priority knowing that the matter would be closing. You had gotten somewhat frustrated with Joe, that he kept cancelling on meetings last minute leaving you to deal with everything. There were several silver linings, however. First, you hoped it meant he trusted you with the significant responsibility, which again would likely lead to a positive performance review and a hefty bonus. It may even come in handy a few years from now when you would become eligible to make partner yourself. Second, in picking up that responsibility, you had grown a lot professionally in the last few months. Belgium felt like a lifetime ago, in more ways than one. In the last few restless days your mind kept reflecting back to that first race weekend when you were full of nerves, but lately you didn’t quite feel like the same young associate with a chip on her shoulder and something to prove. Third, for better or worse, you grew to know you client in a way you would not have been able to but for the partner’s absence and that transfer of duty. Because you knew him so well now, you were better able to represent him. This was, of course, a double-edged sword. You’d unintentionally gotten to know the driver far better than you intended. Over the course of months, he poked little holes in your armor leaving you open and vulnerable and inching you closer towards that delicate line you dared not cross. The two of you had danced around it for weeks. If you hadn’t crossed it before, kissing certainly pushed the two of you over the edge together. You wondered what he thought about all this, considering he had far less to lose from the predicament. It would probably be awkward the next time you saw each other, but hopefully still respectful and professional if nothing else.

Meanwhile, Daniel along with the rest of the grid arrived in Abu Dhabi a day early to have a retirement dinner party for Seb. Seb had been unexpected source of support during this uncertain time in his career. Not all of the drivers had reached out to him when news about his early termination with McLaren broke. Of those that did reach out, some were simply surface level exchanges lacking compassion and depth. Seb, however, had helped him navigate a slew of existential crisis. The least Daniel could do was return that support to his friend. He sat next to Lando and Pierre, the drivers chatting amongst themselves during the meal. Of course there was a general curiosity about his plans for next year, but he playfully remained tight-lipped. The conversation was light, reminiscing and debriefing on some of the post-race debauchery over the course of the season. It was all fun and games until Pierre brought up Halloween in Mexico and his failed attempts at bringing home an instragram influencer and a model that night.

“I think I might be losing my touch. But that was a fun night though, yeah?”

“It was, I’m surprised you remember most of it,” Daniel teased.

“Honestly, me too. That girl dressed as you, she was a good time.” Daniel did his best to remain casual, though his heart skipped at beat at your mention.

“Yeah, y/n is fun when she’s not working.”

“I’ve seen her around the paddock a few times. She’s your lawyer, right?” He took a long drink, not liking the direction the conversation was headed.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe when the season is over I can grab her number.” It was more of a statement than a question. Daniel feigned ignorance at the request and laughed.

“I mean I can give it to you, but she probably wouldn’t be able to help you.”

“How so?” Pierre looked at Daniel, both men visibly confused.

“I mean I’m no lawyer myself, but wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest for her?”

“Oh no dude, I don’t want her services – or, uh legal services I should say,” he said cheekily. Daniel’s ears immediately turned red, his jaw clenched, and hand balled into a fist. He did his best to control his facial muscles to not let on to the fact that Pierre had unknowingly stepped on an emotional landmine. Lando, who had been talking to Zhou across from him, sensed the shift in the driver sitting next to him. He diverted his attention for a moment to try to break the tension before Daniel could say or do something he would regret.

“Pierre, she’s way too smart for you and you’re not her type,” he said casually, earning a laugh from the others including Pierre.

“What are you talking about, I’m everybody’s type,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah, I think that might be part of the problem,” Lando responded. “Plus, you’re already in a committed relationship with this one,” jabbing his thumb in the direction of Yuki. That side of the table continued to laugh and joke, Daniel included, but he didn’t miss the chance to lock eyes with his teammate to silently convey his thanks for discreetly deflecting the conversation away from the woman that had taken up so much space in his mind. Had he really almost punched his friend at a fancy restaurant during his mentor’s retirement party? He was in deep. Hook, line, and sinker.

Daniel had bought himself more time extending the signing with Red Bull, but he had no idea what he was doing. You had made it abundantly clear that nothing could happen until after everything was signed. You also hadn’t explicitly said whether you wanted anything to happen afterwards... All he knew, whether or not anything progressed further between the two of you, he just needed to be near you. He needed more time with you, beyond Monday.

The evening continued with heartfelt sentiments exchanged, and Daniel found himself more and more in his feelings especially as the drinks flowed. He thought he recovered from Pierre’s comments at dinner, but then Seb gave a speech to the rest of grid that brought him to the brink of tears. His mentor’s goodbye made him reflect and contemplate his own journey over the year. Though neither driver would be on the grid next season, Daniel was envious that Seb had the opportunity to leave the sport on his own terms compared to the lack of agency he felt with his tenure with McLaren. Feeling unmoored, you showed up out of nowhere to turn his ship around at the eleventh hour. He wasn’t sure what was next for him, but he knew he couldn’t do it without you by his side. Maybe another drink would take his mind off you.

The night continued, one by one the other drivers called it a night. But Daniel stayed until the wee hours of the morning with some of the younger drivers who had higher tolerances. Lando took note of his teammate’s condition who refused to believe he couldn’t keep up. They hadn’t discussed the elephant in the room, but he could put two and two together even if he didn’t have all the details. You might have been discreet, but Daniel was anything but. He noticed how Daniel perked up just a little on the days you had meetings. He noticed the stupid looks you gave each other, each party oblivious to the other. He noticed all the times you went out with the drivers at Daniel’s invitation, which was surely not in your job description. And right now for whatever reason likely involving you, Daniel was miserable, his melancholia exasperated by alcohol.

“Hey mate, I think it’s time to go back to the hotel,” Lando said as he put an arm around Daniel.

“Nooo, but we’re having fun! For Seb!” Daniel slurred as he held up his drink triumphantly.

“We are having fun, but we have to get up really early. Remember?”

Daniel was too tired to fight back. So he pouted as Lando corralled him into the backseat of the car back to the hotel.

You rolled into Abu Dhabi at 2am. You were exhausted. You had no shame about rocking under eye patches and a face mask mid-flight to at least hopefully make it look like you’d gotten some type of rest over the last two days. Unfortunately, the dark circles that remained begged to differ.

You were in the middle of checking in when you heard commotion in the lobby behind you. You rolled your eyes at the drunks stumbling in, keeping your head down to avoid any interaction.

“That’s it, almost there mate.” You knew that voice. You slowly turned to find Lando struggling to guide a dazed Daniel towards the elevator. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times to make sure you were seeing clearly. That made you wake up.

“Lando? Daniel?”

Both drivers looked your way. You suddenly became very aware and self-conscious of your grungy airport outfit: messy bun, no makeup, and full Enchante sweatsuit Daniel had gifted you after Japan. You couldn’t decipher the look Lando gave you that was equal parts relieved and concerned, but Daniel’s face lit up immediately showing off those darn dimples.

“Y/n!”

“Hi. What are you guys doing?” you asked hesitantly. It was mostly directed at Lando since he still had his wits about him, but Daniel answered anyways.

“We had to say goodbye to Seb,” he said solemnly. Lando rolled his eyes seeing the immediate look of concern and confusion on your face.

“Jesus Christ. The guy’s retiring, he didn’t die.”

You gave a polite smile. “I’m sorry, I think I’m missing something.”

“The whole grid had a retirement party for Seb, not a funeral as this one might have you believe. It started with dinner but some guys stayed out and well… he’s just been slightly overserved.” You pursed your lips together to keep from laughing. You could tell Lando’s patience had run thin, but despite his annoyance he had made sure Daniel got back safe which you appreciated.

“Well, thank you for taking care of my client.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m fine,” Daniel slurred a few feet away, leaning against a pillar in the opulent lobby – immediately followed by him almost slipping but quickly catching himself. He smiled again, proud and satisfied with his own rescue effort.

“Right…” you drawled. You turned to the concierge who had been patient and stoic as the scene unfolded. You’d been informed that the hotel catered to Westerners, but you were still cautious being in a country that technically followed Sharia law despite the many exceptions for expats and tourists. “My apologies ma’am, is it ok if I help escort my friend to his room for a moment? I can finish checking in afterwards.”

“Of course Miss l/n. I’ll still be here.” Having the green light to accompany the two boys, you and Lando flanked Daniel linking your arms through his to walk him to the elevator.

“I don’t need help,” *hiccup* “I’m a strong, independent woman,” he said, though he did nothing to resist your assistance.

“You are maybe half of those things,” you retorted.

“That’s being generous, I give him zero out of three,” Lando chimed in.

“Oh be nice, you know you can feel those muscles,” you lightly countered as you gave Daniel’s bicep a quick squeeze. You gave him a tired, playful smile and the look he returned you was so full of adoration it felt like your heart was going to burst at the seams. He leaned his head on your shoulder when you stepped in the elevator and you wished you could put the moment on pause to keep him there a while longer.

“You can’t possibly be referring to these chicken wings,” Lando replied. “Do you have your room key?” Lando asked Daniel, breaking your daze. Daniel shuffled for a second, patting his pockets, then nodding in confirmation. “Good, I’m going to bed.” He pressed the floor for himself, then Daniel’s.

“I’m sorry, what?” Lando gave you a knowing smile.

“I already did 90% of the heavy lifting, I’m sure you can handle it from here.” You shot daggers his way, Daniel still between the two of you, blissfully unaware of your quarrel. “See you in seven hours,” he said as he got off the elevator.

You sighed as the elevator doors closed, leaving the two of you alone. Daniel was too drunk to feel awkward about the predicament given how you last left things, a lazy smile still on his face.

“You called me your friend. To the concierge.”

“I did.”

“I thought I was your client.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.” He hummed in response. The answer seemed to make him happy. His eyes grazed over you, his smile growing.

“You’re wearing my clothes.”

“An astute observation.”

“They look good on you.” The elevator doors opened as a blush crept to your face. You guided him into the hallway and ignored his comment.

“Ok, what number are you?”

“This way,” he said, ignoring your question and yanking you to the right. You kept your arm around him to steady his swaying. You could smell the alcohol coming off him, making you wonder about the events leading up to this but whatever it was wasn’t a conversation for today. He finally stopped in front of a door and fumbled with his pockets. You waited to make sure he could get into his room, but after a minute or two you got concerned.

“I can go back to the concierge to get another key-”

“No, no, I got it.” You watched as he fished it out from the depths of his front pocket, then struggled with getting it to work on the fob.

“Here, let me help you.” Your own patience running low, you took the key from his hands and opened the door. You had planned on finishing your check-in when you knew he made it inside, but felt bad leaving him in the condition he was in. You reasoned that it was to help him avoid a hangover in the morning so that he would be as camera ready as possible for press day, but it was a loose excuse.

You cautiously entered his room and turned on some lights. Your jaw dropped for a moment – his room was at least triple the size of every other hotel room you had stayed at over the course of the season, every detail pristine. You held the door open for him as you ogled in the foyer. He pinballed off the door frame to make his way inside, leaning against the wall across from you. He openly took you in, admiring how his merch hung from your body more perfectly than he ever could have imagined. He didn’t turn away when you returned his gaze.

“Come on let’s get you tucked in, you have a long day tomorrow – or in six and a half hours.” You grabbed his arm again and brought him towards the bed, and he happily followed you like a puppy. You were relieved he was at least cooperating. You sat him down. “Ok sir, where do you keep your pajamas?” He gave you a wicked grin.

“I don’t wear any,” he said shamelessly. You pursed your lips, you knew you walked into that one.

“Of course you don’t. Well when I leave you can get undressed. Just sit tight for a sec.” You opened up the bottle of water by the coffee maker and poured it into a glass. “Here, drink this.” He guzzled the water, so you poured him another. “Good job. How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.” He showed off his pearly whites with a giant smile, closing his eyes as his head flopped back.

Oh my God, you’re so drunk, you said under your breath. “I’m serious, do you feel nauseous at all? Headache?”

“I’m peachy,” he said as he swung his legs back and forth off the bed. He played with his hands in his lap. Seemingly able to entertain himself at least for a minute, you walked into the bathroom to go through his toiletries to find some Advil and maybe some tums for the morning. When you returned, your patient was already taking off his shirt and had started undoing his belt.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down there tiger. Why don’t you take two Advil first?”

“I’ll do anything you tell me,” he said before swallowing the pills you handed him. “I’m going to miss you when you leave.” His sudden shift in tone threw you off. You sat down next to him to show your support and solidarity.

“You know you can always call me. It will be like I never left.”

“As a friend?” he asked hopefully. You smiled and put a reassuring hand on his thigh.

“Yes, definitely as a friend.” There was a pause.

“What about as more than a friend?” *hiccup* “Like, afterwards?” You bit your lip, but smiled.

“I think that’s a conversation for another time.”

“You didn’t say no.” You laughed.

“You’re drunk as a skunk and this is the moment you choose to dissect semantics.” He picked up your hand resting on his thigh, bringing it to his lips to kiss without breaking eye contact.

“Enchante.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, but it sure is charming as heck,” you said between laughs. You pulled your hand back and stood up. “On that note, I think you have everything you need so I’m going to head out. You have two more ibuprofen on your nightstand for the morning and two tums in case you get heartburn or an upset stomach. I set your alarm for 8:00 so you can sleep in a little, but still gives you an hour to get ready before you need to head to the paddock. I think it’s ok if you’re fashionably late.” He pouted. “Oh come on now, no need to frown. You get to take off those pants and go to bed. I’m going to go to bed too.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay?” He gave the best puppy eyes he could. Matched with his bare torso, six pack on full display, and unbuttoned belt and pants, anyone with a weaker constitution would’ve folded immediately. But at this point you were a trained soldier, the end of your internal battle in sight. You did make one concession though.

Maybe it was impulse. Maybe it was the jet lag. Maybe it was the possibility he wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning. But in a streak of boldness, you brought your hand to the side of his face, feeling the sharpness of his jawline and the texture of his stubble. You bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Maybe next time,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his.

His eyes were flying saucers when you stood. “Good night, Daniel. Get some rest.”

Despite how tired he was, it was hard for him to fall asleep after that.

Taglist: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233 @thatchickwiththecamera

366 notes · View notes