#and i refuse to send more of my men to their deaths’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ponderingmoonlight · 2 months

Text

Sharing a bed with kny men

Pairings: Yoriichi x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,7k (lmao)

Warnings: injury in Yoriichi's part, smut in Sanemi's part so read if you're 18+, this is a long ass fic y'all, not proofread

This is actually my first time posting Sanemi smut and I'm super scared. Let me know what you think 🥹🤍

Also, do you want me to do other characters too?🫶

Yoriichi

I heard you @laurencrsnt 🫶

All your life, you never even thought about the possibility that maybe, you’ll encounter a demon someday. Why you, out of all people? Why especially you?

Even now with its cold eyes glaring down at you and your shoulder ripped open by its claws, you fail to find an answer for that. Is it your fate to die right here, when you only went out at night in order to buy medicine for your little sister who has fever? Is dying the cruelest death really your destiny when you wish for nothing more than growing old and watching your own children live their lives?

It’s unfair.

You shouldn’t lay here, crumpled onto the still wet street. You shouldn’t feel the sensation of your eyes watering, your hands trembling, your heart racing.

This shouldn’t be your last day walking on this earth. You didn’t even have the chance to find the man of your dreams yet…

It’s ridiculous and you know it, that spark of determination that rushes through your bones. All of the sudden you spring back onto your feet and start running. Out of the city, away from the lit streets straight into the dark woods.

Even if you have to die here, you won’t give up this easily. You won’t allow this demon to end your life without putting up a fight.

“Why do you girls always think you can run away, huh? It’s too easy to sweep you off your feet”, the demon behind you comments dryly.

With a swift motion of his hand, it digs open your tender flesh all over again, sends your violent scream echoing through the lonely forest. You fall to the ground like a bag of rice, your torn leg now refusing its service completely.

“Let me go!”, you shriek in horror.

No, you don’t want to die here, you just want to go back to bed and forget about this.

But the forest ground isn’t your bed and the demon in front of you who’s ready to slice through your throat isn’t only a nightmare.

Your heart sinks to the floor, body suddenly feeling numb and lifeless. You will die here.

“I’ll keep you in good memory. Well, at least for tonight”, the demon jeers at you.

You close your eyes, desperately try to imagine your little sister. She’ll find herself a loving husband and her very own family without any doubt. Even without you around, her life will turn out alright. Even without you around, life goes on. You don’t have to feel sad or guilty, you just have to let go…

“Get away from that woman.”

A low male voice, so charismatic that you think you might dream. He sure must be handsome. Men with voices like that always have a matching face.

A slicing blade, a dull thud. But no claws that dig into your flesh one last time, no bow of relief that you’ve been awaiting for quite some time by now. Your eyelids start shivering. When is this finally over?

“Are you alright? Please allow me to help you up.”

The second something touches your skin, your eyes snap open in an instant. But they aren’t greeted by those venomous red orbs from earlier. No, these ones are soft but strong and have that calming fuchsia color. This isn’t a demon.

This is a man.

“Don’t be afraid. The demon is gone”, he continues speaking with his low voice.

You have no control over your own body and shivering limbs. It’s impossible for you to say a single word. Are you really out of danger? Is it really over?

When he pulls you off the ground, a violent scream escapes your lips. No, you don’t want to die, you don’t want your life to end tonight. Not like this, not without saying goodbye.

“Please calm down, everything is alright now”, the stranger tries to reassure you, but his words don’t even reach your ringing ears.

You gasp for air like a fish on land, forehead now covered in ice cold sweat. This can’t be your end.

If Yoriichi doesn’t act now, you might faint due to your stress. But what is he supposed to do? You don’t seem to listen to his words and touching you might only make it worse. Maybe you need, assurance?

“I won’t hurt you, see? My hands have no intention of doing you any harm.”

Gently, he glides his fingertips up and down your uninjured harm. Despite the look of horror on your face and your gaping wounds, you do have a lovely face and truly remarkable eyes.

“I came here to help you”, he continues until his fingertips finally brush over your tear-soaked face.

What is this feeling of warmth deep inside his chest? You aren’t the first woman he saved from the claws of a demon.

“I would like to accompany you on your way back home-“

“No”, you suddenly blurt out.

Even though lying in bed on your own was all you were able to think about just a few moments ago, the thought feels like a threat now. What if another demon follows you back home? What if your little sister gets attacked because of your foolishness? No, you simply can’t go back now. But on the other hand…Just the thought of sleeping alone here in the woods runs shivers down your spine.

“I…I’ll find a place to stay. Otherwise…they might harm my sister…”, you mutter.

“Allow me to escort you to my estate, then.”

You yank your head to the side in sheer disbelief, eyes searching for a spark of humor in his calming orbs. Is he really serious about that? After all, you’re a stranger. He doesn’t even know your name. Now that you think of it…who is this?

“How can I know for sure that you aren’t a demon yourself?”

“Take my hand”, he instructs you gently.

Is this really a good idea? You take a deep breath in, try to calm down your pounding heart. What do you have to lose?

When your shaky fingers wrap themselves around his much larger hand, you get ingulfed by warmth. His palms feel rough but also comforting against your bruised skin.

“Demons are cold since they are dead”, he explains briefly.

“But I am not. I am a demon slayer. It is my only destiny to safe innocent souls from their death.”

Oh. Your gaze drifts towards a katana that hangs dangles from his belt. No, demon don’t find with those weapons. So, are those words really true?

“You…You want to help me?��

“I’d love to help you if you allow me to.”

What has gotten into him? Did he really offer you to hold his hand, let alone to sleep at his house so you don’t have to fear the night on your own? Never in his life, Yoriichi allowed himself to develop feelings apart from empathy for those around him.

But those eyes. Those eyes of yours really captivate him, devour him fully. How is he supposed to leave you out here, soaked in your own blood with bruises all over your body?

“You…really would?”

Is this really okay? When you were a child, your mother told you over and over that you aren’t allowed to talk to strangers, let alone man.

But…does that also include the handsome, charismatic and armored ones?

“I keep my word. Also, your wounds need care as well. Please, allow me to help you.”

What do you have to lose.

“If that’s the case, I’d love to take your offer”, you reply shyly.

“I’m glad to hear that. I will show you the way-“

A loud groan escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. His charismatic eyes almost made you forget about the gaping wound the monster from before inflicted on you.

Almost.

“You shouldn’t move your leg with a wound like that. I will carry you to my estate.”

“You will…carry me?”, you mutter with widened eyes.

But just when you try to take a step forward, his words become painfully clear. No, there really is no way you’ll be able to walk anywhere with that leg. But allowing him to carry you?

“I might be a little heavy.”

“Let me assure you, you aren’t heavy at all.”

“Fine…”, you grumble.

“But only a few meters.”

Gently, he stranger wraps his arms around your shoulder and knees before he starts walking.

He smells good. Like a field of flowers on a sunny day. And the way his heart beats against your cheek reminds you that you’re still alive, that you survived somehow.

This man saved you.

“I didn’t even thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. This is the least I can do for you after I almost came too late.”

He stares blankly at the blood that still drips from your leg. Just a few seconds later and that demon would have killed you with him simply watching. Why? Why is he not able to save them all, why is he still not good enough to stop this madness?

“Don’t tense up, don’t think anything less of yourself because I was injured. I was a fool for leaving the house this late at night on my own.”

Despite the fact that cold sweat still runs down your forehead and even though your fingertips still shake in shock, you cup his cheek and force his troubled eyes to look at you.

“I am beyond thankful for my rescue. The worst thing about dying today would have been leaving my little sister behind. But you saved me. And not only that, you even offered me a safe place to stay for the night. I really don’t know if…If I’d be able to sleep on my own tonight…”

The stranger doesn’t say a word, his eyes roaming around your face without a real aim.

“Oh, I didn’t even ask. What’s your name?”

“My name is not important-“

“I’m (y/n)”, you introduce yourself friendly.

“My…my name is Yoriichi”, the man carrying you mumbles.

Yoriichi. An unusual name that you’ve never heard before.

“That name suits you well.”

“We’ll arrive soon. I hope you don’t expect a big mansion since I am living in a rather small cottage-“

“I’m living in a tiny barrack in the city. A house in the woods sounds like a dream”, you mutter.

The second you open your eyes again, you find yourself in a wooden cabin with a plain futon lying on the floor and an improvised kitchen in the back of the house. Nothing special, very fitting for the man who gently lowers you onto the futon.

“I will take care of your wounds now”, he announces before taking off his haori and katana.

Without his threatful weapon dangling from his belt, he looks like a normal man.

If it wasn’t for those captivating eyes. He has to be the most breathtaking man you’ve ever seen.

“Fortunately, the cut on your leg isn’t deep. I’ll disinfect the wound and bandage it”, he explains briefly before his skilled hands spring into action.

“You really are good at everything”, you comment.

He’s so gentle that even the alcohol that disinfects your wound doesn’t seem to burn. Why have you never stumbled across him? You were so sure that you know each and every man around that it almost drove you insane. But him? He’s different from all the others. He’s truly special.

“You will have to take your kimono off. I need access to the wound on your shoulder.”

Oh.

“Y-yeah, sure…”

Hesitantly, you pull the blood-soaked fabric down your shoulder so that only your chest is still covered. Yoriichi’s eyes seem to gleam in the moonlight like liquid metal.

“You look lovely”, he flusters into the night.

He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. Is it the alcohol rising up his nose, the smell of blood that radiates from your bruised body that makes him say those strange things?

No. It has to be because of those eyes of yours. Those eyes that captivated him from the moment he first saw them.

"Thank you," you stammer, your cheeks flushing as you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You too," you add quickly, immediately regretting your awkward response.

Both you and Yoriichi swallow hard, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changing.

“I am finished. You should rest for tonight. After all, this was a draining fight for you”, he mutters while getting up.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heart still hammering so roughly against your ribcage that you’re almost sure he’s able to hear it. What was this tension?

“But…this is your futon-“

“You are my guest. Of course, I will sleep on the floor on the other side of the room.”

Oh. A wave of disappointment rushes over you before you’re able to stop it. What were you expecting, secretly hoping? That this man will share a bed with you?

Honestly, yes.

“You…you really don’t have to…”

Oh, how much Yoriichi wished he wouldn’t have to.

“I insist on taking the floor.”

“I actually want you to sleep by my side. Please.”

The begging tone in your voice stops him mid-track.

“This night was…horrible. A little company would definitely help, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all”, he replies a little too hasty.

“I just don’t want to invade your personal space. After all, I’m a stranger.”

“A really kind stranger”, you add shyly.

Are you acting out of line? You shouldn’t push him to sleep next to you when his offer to let you sleep here is already generous enough, right?

“Forget my question, I was acting out of line-“

“No, not at all. I would love sleeping besides you.”

He crosses the room in an instant and kneels down next to you.

“But let me know whenever I become too much.”

What a ridiculous thought. Why would he ever become too much? Him, your savior, that remarkable man.

You scoot over until your back is pressed against the cool wall, eyes still fixated on his gleaming eyes. Will you really be able to sleep tonight when this is the first time ever a man lies beside you?

And what a handsome one on top.

“You should try to sleep now. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here”, he reassures you.

That is the least he can do after failing to protect you in the first place.

“Again, thank you for all of this. I definitely own you a favor”, you mumble.

Suddenly your lids start to get heavy, your mind slows down bit by bit. Maybe this rough night really took its toll on you. Is It the safety he radiates, his calming smell? In the matter of seconds, only your low and even breath is heard.

Finally, Yoriichi is able to allow himself a closer look at you. You look so peaceful and innocent with a face so remarkably beautiful that he can’t stop staring. You have to be the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. A man like him really doesn’t deserve lying next to a woman like you. Maybe he should give you space, leave you now that you fell asleep-

With a quiet groan, you draw closer to him in your sleep until your head rests on top of his chest and with your arms wrapped around his upper body.

He doesn’t dare to move an inch, eyes widen in utter surprise. Is this…cuddling? His mind races back and forth, eyes resting on your calm features. What is he supposed to do now?

Hesitantly, he allows his hand to rest on your back. What an unknown sensation, all those feelings that rise up his chest right where your hand rests.

For the first time since forever, he is the one who feels safe.

He is the one who feels loved.

He is the one who feels warm.

And you? You cuddle yourself against him until the sun rises all over again.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

This one's for you @muichirolover14 🤍

“This is bullshit”, the man walking next to you mumbles under his breath.

“Keep focused. It was Kagaya-sama’s personal wish that the two of us go on this mission together”, you mumble with a fake smile decorating your bright red lips.

And that’s the only reason why you agreed in the first place. Why else would you pretend to be Sanemi Shinazugawa’s personal concubine if it wasn’t for Kagaya-sama and this undercover mission?

The plan is pretty simple. Countless people, including other demon slayers, lost their lives in this little innocent village that becomes a red-light district at night. Nobody knows why or who is responsible for this.

One of the upper moons, maybe.

It just made sense to dress you up as a concubine. After all, you are the light hashira, a mighty swordswoman and probably the most talented out of Mitsuri and Shinobu when it comes to acting.

And then there’s him. You glance at Sanemi’s annoyed face from the side. Why on earth did Kagaya-sama choose him? What about Rengoku, Giyu, Obanai, Tengen, Gyomei? Aren’t they a way better fit?

You sign to yourself.

Truth is, they aren’t. While Rengoku, Obanai, Tengen and Gyomei would stand out immediately, Giyu would never be able to sell you as his concubine. No, no one except the wind hashira is able to make this look natural.

No one but him looks this good in a dark green kimono.

What?

“Stop staring at me like that, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I was just hoping you might disappear if I stare long enough, idiot”, you bite back in frustration.

Why does he always have to be so mean, though? You really tried to get along with him countless times, put on the most precious smile whenever you talked to him and made sure to always bring him ohagi whenever you had the chance to. But Sanemi Shinazugawa never stopped hating you. And eventually, a part of you started to dislike him as well. That one part though…

You allow your eyes a minor glimpse at his barely exposed chest. That tiny part deep within your head is somehow still drawn to him. And you hate it.

“Aren’t concubines supposed to shut up?”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll leave immediately.”

“Both of us know you wouldn’t do that.”

You let out your shaky breath, your hand crushing his while you wear the same friendly smile as before.

“Don’t mess with me, Shinazugawa”, you speak out with low voice.

His face tenses up ever so slightly, hand fighting for freedom out of your merciless grasp.

“You’ll regret talking to me like that when we’re alone, brat.”

-at the estate-

“I’d like to show you to my newest possession. Please introduce yourself”, Sanemi speaks out.

Like Amane-sama showed you, you bow in front of the man that looks you up and down with his filthy eyes.

“My name is Kiyomi”, you introduce yourself oh so sweetly.

“That name really suits you. What a beauty you are. I’m sure I’d find a lot of paying customers for you here”, the disgusting man purrs and stretches out his hand in order to touch your face.

“Don’t touch the goods”, Sanemi barks at him immediately before slapping his dirty hand away.

Who does this guy think he is, trying to touch you so casually? No. That jerk isn’t allowed to caress your face. The plain thought of men like him getting to put their hands on you…

Sanemi’s guts turn.

“Aren’t you here to sell her and yourself for the night? If that’s the case, she won’t be your good anymore for the next few hours but mine.”

He smiles at you through rotten teeth, his breath almost forcing you to choke. You are only here to detect the demon who is responsible for the countless deaths in this area. You don’t have to touch any of these men. None of them will touch you.

What about Sanemi, though? An uneasy feeling rises up your chest when your eye catches a group of women who stare him up and down with lust in their eyes. Will he allow himself a taste before continuing with this mission? Will he find a woman he is attracted to? All of them look flawless, too good to even consider the service of a paid men. But if that man looks like Sanemi…

“You will find your room to the right. This is where the female customers choose their good. After paying, you belong to them”, the man explains briefly while showing both of you around.

“Why would these women pay for the services of a man? This is a noble region that is well-inhabited by countless men”, you blurt out.

“It’s not about them being men. It’s about looks. Only the fine-looking men even get the chance to work here for the night”, he explains briefly.

Fine-looking man, huh? Well, there is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi suits that description way too good. With his firm muscles highlighted by scars from countless battles, he looks like a walking god. Let alone his perfect face, his eyes that now look soft and seducing without being irritated constantly. His white hair that frames his features perfectly.

“As for the women, we look for a broad variety of bodies, looks and personalities. You are very easy on the eye and mysterious. I’m sure countless customers will fall for that.”

“And what…what services do they expect?”

The man in front of you bursts out in hysteric laughter, you can feel Sanemi’s eyes piercing through your skull.

“What they expect? Intercourse and everything that revolves around it, of course! Do you think they pay you for some cuddles and nice words?”

You swallow hard. There is no need to do that, right? You’ll somehow shrug them off and investigate this place at night. Maybe you’ll find the demon right away and-

“Now, you are a fine-looking man. Who is this?”, a woman suddenly purrs out of the shadows.

“A new worker for the night”, the disgusting man explains with a dirty smile.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll definitely make a reservation.”

“It would be an honor, my lady”, suddenly replies in the same cheeky tone

Your guts turn in an instant, eyes narrowing slightly as you watch how a smile forms itself on Sanemi’s usual resting lips.

“What a gentleman he is. I cannot wait to meet you.”

“The honor is on my side, my lady.”

And then he steps in front of her. Elegantly, he grabs the hand she already holds out and kisses her knuckles. Your heartrate quickens, the warm flush that starts creeping up your face barely covered by your makeup.

Fucking asshole. So he’s acting like a jerk towards you all this time while treating other women like this? You hate the knot that forms itself in your throat, the disgusting feeling of disappointment that rushes over you.

Does he really hate you this much?

“Well, I think I should introduce myself to the customers as well. Have a pleasant night, Sir”, your monotone voice speaks out on its own.

With one last bow towards him, you follow the man into the women’s corridor without even gifting him a single look. Sanemi can’t help but furrow his eyebrows at your sudden reaction. Did you really want to get rid of him so badly? Maybe you’ll actually meet up with some of those guys and…

“Are you interested-“

“I will meet up with you later this evening, my lady. Please excuse me.”

Without another look or word, he storms into his assigned room and closes the door behind him.

Sanemi’s mind starts going insane. What if you actually like one of those guys? Or what if one of them hurts you, tries to force you into something you don’t want? He heard the worst stuff about places like this.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Why you? This mission is way too dangerous for someone like you, for someone this gorgeous-

“I’m losing my fucking mind”, he mutters through gritted teeth.

“I can’t do this”, you breathe out in sheer panic while lying in bed.

No, just the thought of Sanemi having the fun of his life with that girl from earlier feels like ripping your beating heart out of your chest. Will he really share a bed with them?

If it’s for the mission, he definitely would. Nothing is greater than his urge to kill demons, especially when it comes to an upper ranked one. That little sacrifice wouldn’t stop him.

And it breaks your dumb heart.

A hard knock on the door rips you out of your running thoughts. Is this your first customer? All color drains from your face, eyes widen in horror with every bow against the wooden door.

“Just a moment”, your shaky voice shouts.

You…Do you have to look presentable? You have to think about the things you can tell him. Maybe you don’t even have to sleep with him, maybe this will distract you from the things Sanemi is probably doing right now.

You open the door.

And stare straight into the furious eyes of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Before you’re even able to react, he pushes himself into your room and closes the door behind him before yanking you against the wall.

“What did you do?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

Your heart starts hammering roughly against your ribcage. Him? Here?

“What the hell are you doing he-“

“Answer my question right now!”, he barks into your face.

“I didn’t do anything!”, you shriek.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“Has somebody touched you?”

His rough hands start running up and down your neck, yank the sleeves of your kimono upwards in a haste.

“What?”, you breathe out.

What the hell is going on? Just when you managed to pull your arm away from him, he grabs your wrist again with his face only inches away from yours.

“Did somebody touch you?”, he screams into your face.

“No!”, you cry back.

“But why would you even care? It looked like you had plenty of fun!”

He shakes his head while looking at you in utter surprise and confusion.

“What non-sense are you talking now-“

“Did you sleep with that woman from earlier when I was gone?”

God, you hate the way your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, you hate the way your eyes fill with hot tears. He came here to confront you with all those accusations while he was out there having the time of his life, while all you were able to think about is him?

“No, I didn’t sleep with anyone!”

“Stop lying to me!”

“You’re the only one I want!”, he suddenly blurts out breathlessly.

“What?”, you utter in hushed panic.

This has to be a cruel joke, an unforgiving way to stop you from doing anything. Sanemi Shinazugawa, wanting you?

“Since I first saw you with your fucking perfect face and so melodic voice, I can’t think about anything else! You, sleeping with some random guy while I’m just a few doors away. I can’t take it!”

He grabs your head with both hands, eyes staring at you so intensely that you feel like collapsing any minute. If that’s really true, if that’s really how he feels…

“But…I want you too”, you squirm.

“I always wanted you, Sanemi.”

His lips crash against yours with so much power that you almost fall over. Suddenly his hands are all over your body, tongue unforgiving as he discovers your mouth with a passion you’ve never felt before. You allow your very own hands to finally discover the deep valleys of his muscular back, to let your hasty fingertips wander over his tight chest.

It becomes unbearable. Everything starts to become unbearable. That minor gap between your bodies, the clothes that still deny you full access to his naked skin, the feeling of not having enough.

“I need more”, you whimper against his lips, not even knowing what exactly you’re asking about.

Sanemi lifts you up with ease, not even breaking the kiss when he pushes you onto the bed with his massive body lingering on top of you.

You feel like suffocating in the most exquisite way.

“I’ll give you whatever you want”, he breathes against your lips that now find your neck.

A whimper escapes your mouth before you can stop his, body rearing up underneath him.

“S-Sanemi!”

“Fuck”, he hisses before his dark eyes meet you again in distress.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I…what?”

You can’t produce a single logical sound, head still spinning from the unknown sensation that starts building up inside your stomach. Is this what desire feels like?

“Tell me you want this too. Tell me you want me.”

“I wanted you all this time”, you reply without thinking twice.

With a swift motion, you find yourself engulfed by his arms with his lips caressing yours all over again. Like in trance, you begin opening his kimono, expose his bare skin to your merciless eyes.

“You look so shamelessly good”, you whimper.

Oh, how often you pondered about how his chest feels like, if his scars are soft or as rough as his walls.

“Can I…?”

His hands grab the ends of your kimono, eyes staring down at you flustered. Is that blush creeping up his cheeks?

“It’s just…You know…I’ve never done this before…”, you stammer.

“Do I look like I did, idiot?”, he mutters while gently taking off your kimono until you lay underneath him.

Completely naked.

“I mean, yes…”

“No, I didn’t”, he barks.

“I guess I waited for someone special…”

“I did as well”, you reply in an instant.

Is this real or are you dreaming? Sanemi Shinazugawa laying on top of you fully nude. Sanemi Shinazugawa stating that he likes you. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s hand that start moving downwards…

Until he reaches between your legs and simply takes your breath away.

“Are you okay?”, he mutters, eyes filled with worry.

You nod absently, eyes rolling back into your skull. God, this feels like heaven. When a groan escapes his lips, you completely lose yourself. Out of instinct, you grab his neck and yank him even closer towards you, your hot breath clashing against his face.

“Sanemi!”

His name sounds like a prayer coming from your mouth, forces his fingers to move even faster. Is this good? Is he doing everything alright? Your whimpers grow louder and louder, nails digging into his now oversensitive skin with so much pressure that it threatens to burst. You look so gorgeous with your eyes pressed shut, your delicate mouth forming an “o”.

And then you burst right underneath him, scream his name over and over again with your legs shaking. He can’t wait no longer, can’t contain himself another second.

“I need you”, he mutters.

“Please, let me have you.”

“Yes”, you breathe out, mind still spinning when the firework that just exploded in your lower body slowly starts wearing off.

Until you feel him all over again. But this time, not his fingers. Your glossy eyes widen in utter surprise when he carefully stretches you out and disappears inside of you, hands holding onto him for dear life.

“Are you okay?”, he whimpers.

“Please…give me…more…”

He almost loses his mind, the new sensation almost eating him up alive. Countless nights, he dreamed about what it might be like to have you, what it would feel like. But the reality is so much better than any dream.

Sanemi picks up his pace and grabs your waist passionately in order to keep you in place. Over and over, again and again your sticky skin collides with his until he threatens to burst.

“You’re mine”, he presses out through gritted teeth while pounding into you.

“I’m all yours, Sanemi!”, you cry out, nails now leaving marks on his skin.

“I need…ah! I need you! Please!”

He knows exactly what you’re asking for. One last time, he picks up the pace while holding onto you for dear life.

Until finally, you scream his name. Finally, he’s able to let it all go.

“(y/n)!”

He collapses on top of you, his weight leaving you dizzy and unable to move. None of you dares to make a move, the only thing that’s filling the room being your shaky and sharp breaths.

“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally mutters, his hand caressing your cheek oh so gently.

“I love you too-“

“Mission report, mission report! Kagaya-sama requires a mission re- AH!”

“Get out of here right now!”, Sanemi barks at the crow that casually entered the room.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?”

“Get out!”, Sanemi screams on top of his lungs before yanking up and hunting the crow butt-naked through the room

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

2K notes · View notes

gyuswhore · 4 months

Text

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons.

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased.

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness.

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart.

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it.

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first.

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear.

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer.

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!”

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him.

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants.

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day.

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides.

Please be okay.

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors.

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure.

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised.

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you.

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water.

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand.

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking.

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds.

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.”

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had.

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space.

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed.

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall.

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him.

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it.

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards.

So much for leaving quietly.

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity.

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready.

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself.

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard.

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing.

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first.

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water.

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to.

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now.

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered.

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew.

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck.

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle.

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship.

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck.

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below.

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes.

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible.

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows.

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope.

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination.

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere.

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck.

What he sees puts his heart in his throat.

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them.

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream.

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened.

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out.

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up.

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck.

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk.

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife.

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad.

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight.

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was.

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading.

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice.

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons.

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror.

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment.

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand.

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck.

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck.

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray.

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings.

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless.

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time.

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side.

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand.

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there.

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget.

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence.

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.”

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says.

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live.

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger.

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King.

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation.

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign.

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod.

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below.

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work.

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames.

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water.

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t.

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own?

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father.

He could find his freedom elsewhere.

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness.

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing.

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to.

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it.

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place.

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood.

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits.

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water.

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water.

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat.

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck.

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you.

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in.

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash.

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own.

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him.

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it.

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you.

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea.

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you.

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more.

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal.

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could.

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms.

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards.

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has.

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything.

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far.

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface.

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious.

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them.

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck.

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing.

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose.

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue.

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!”

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half.

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off.

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you.

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything.

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly.

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body.

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out.

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily.

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship.

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it.

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain.

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies.

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence.

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision.

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious.

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element.

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors.

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen.

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died.

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights.

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say.

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan.

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.”

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place.

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks.

“Everything,” you sigh.

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles.

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for.

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal.

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead.

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum.

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question.

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen.

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid.

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last.

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another.

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless.

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet.

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time.

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity.

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand.

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment.

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck.

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss.

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now.

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has.

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table.

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring.

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after.

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless.

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.”

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies.

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men.

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun.

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same.

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back.

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit.

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart.

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted.

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company.

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents.

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms.

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed.

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him.

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life.

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner.

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night.

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion.

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented.

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone.

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile.

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?”

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment.

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?”

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours.

But you don’t.

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him.

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you.

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly.

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him.

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer.

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth.

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more.

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath.

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back.

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face.

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight.

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely.

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign.

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own.

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask.

“Has the Captain approached?”

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.”

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body.

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep.

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss.

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out.

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock.

“Your guards mortify me.”

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway.

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it.

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle.

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving.

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him.

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed.

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much.

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether.

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing.

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed.

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable.

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound.

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound.

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air.

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up.

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh.

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard.

“Soonyoung!”

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced.

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs.

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach.

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?”

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question.

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah.

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him.

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know.

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive.

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten.

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?”

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his.

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly.

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white.

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers.

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused.

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were.

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue.

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit.

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder.

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt.

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further.

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system.

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree.

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible.

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were.

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath.

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you.

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him.

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence.

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks.

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling.

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth.

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you.

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before.

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up.

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?”

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear.

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions.

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth.

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?”

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.”

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.”

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you.

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you.

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest.

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again.

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before.

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely.

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud.

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own.

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open.

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely.

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay.

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake.

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern.

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you.

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched.

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed.

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure.

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast.

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again.

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further.

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop.

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you.

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made.

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs.

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face.

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could.

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth.

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest.

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping.

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face.

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek.

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine.

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark.

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart.

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens.

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this.

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same.

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.”

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name.

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.”

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes.

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers.

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers.

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone.

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly.

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens.

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow.

You could get used to this. And you will.

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace.

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses.

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer.

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks.

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship.

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow.

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take.

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago.

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern.

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom.

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?”

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you.

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.”

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s.

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands.

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port.

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at.

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace.

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light.

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder.

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back.

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon.

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend.

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings.

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you.

Always.

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

354 notes · View notes

woovalin · 26 days

Note

In your post about Taeil you mentioned “the telegram situation, and korean women constantly being in danger” I was hoping you could explain what you meant? Thank you and also for speaking out for the the victim. It’s a horrible situation.

hello, i will do my best to explain!

so currently there is a movement happening in sk, with women going on strike, protesting and coming forward about them being exploited, blackmailed and assaulted by men. this is a very common, every day occurrence and a lot of people tie this back to the declining birth rate in korea, and why women are refusing to procreate with korean men. with one of the most heinous thing being that there is an app called telegram, where basically you can create chat rooms, and in one of these chat rooms, there is thousands of men degrading women, talking about vile and disgusting things regarding women, and sending deepfakes (hyper realistic pictures/videos with real life peoples features/voices) of p*rn with different women’s/childrens faces in them, including minors. this has caused immense turmoil in these women’s lives, and unfortunately in sk, not much is done when it comes to the men responsible and holding them accountable. they overlook these issues and many women are afraid to come forward, as they are usually threatened, blackmailed or ignored and disregarded by the police when they report these crimes. the men in question who are doing this, are unfortunately also in positions of power sometimes and are part of these groups targeting women, and many try to silence their victims.

recently, it came to light that the actor ahn bo hyun, who formerly dated blackpink’s jisoo, was caught subscribing to a korean youtube channel, where the creator is a raging misogynist and anti-feminist, and that reflects in the content he posts. this same person, because of his actions, caused a young woman and her mother to both end their lives, as his content and accusations were affecting them personally. they felt as if they had no choice but to unalive themselves. there was an instance with a woman being beat almost to death by a man, and a ten year old who demanded n*des from a 6 year old. imagine that.

to provide more context, here are some links from twitter i’ve added if you want to read more about it. you can click the pictures! hope this helps!

#nct #nct 127 #moon taeil #taeil #south korea #korea

157 notes · View notes

winterarmyy · 28 days

Text

Just a passing thought but what if dark!stalker!bucky is infatuated with this lovely girl who he often sees at the local library…

He never approached her, of course. God, no. How can he? He was literally dripped with the vibe of a ‘serial killer’, dark and brood and dangerous and she was just everything soft and sweet. She’d be running scared if he approached her first. So he decided to be patient, to wait for the bunny to walk into the wolf’s den on her own. Though, that didn’t stop Bucky from watching her in the shadows, or sending death threats to all the men she went on dates with, or setting up hidden cameras all over her apartment.

Bucky made himself comfortable on his bed, fingers lazily tapping on his phone, checking each camera to make sure none of them were out of order. “Perfect. Now, where’s my sweet bunny?”

Honestly, Bucky never expected anything from this, oh who was he kidding? He was kinda expecting to see her curled up in her comfy chair, buried behind a book like how he often sees her in the library and maybe see her spend hours on rubbing her skin with those perfumed moisturizer because she always smelled so fucking good.

I mean, he did see those things, but more. So much more. And he was not ready for it. He didn’t know why it never came across his mind, maybe because of how soft and sweet she was acting with other people but…. there she was; doing the weirdest, silliest, quirkiest, stupid things when she's alone.

Bucky is so baffled and confused at first; like how did this shy and quiet girl just change completely? Oh, but he loves it. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this loud, this genuine. Not since he fell off that train, not when he reunited with Steve just to be left alone again.

Now? God damn, he laughs every day. Now, he is rolling on his bed, tears threaten to spill out from the corners of his eyes.

He just witnessed how she abruptly threw the knife and carrot in her hands at the sound of the Samsung washing machine going off from a distance. She glided and slid her way to the laundry room, as if drawn to the rhythmic beep. Her face was set with utmost seriousness, but her body began to sway, moving with the same well-choreographed dance that she always performed when lost in her own little world of domestic rhythms.

Her movements were both precise and fluid, a blend of graceful steps and playful spins while maintaining the same laser-focused expression on her face. She twirled in time with the washing machine’s vibrations, as if the appliance had its own secret beat that only she could hear. When the song ended, she straightened up and walked back to the kitchen.

She picked up the knife and carrot with the same efficiency as before, seamlessly returning to the task of prepping her veggies as if the dance had never happened at all.

Yeah, sure. Bucky jerked off to her some nights; of course he would . Especially when she was moaning and whimpering so sweetly as she played with her clit. But this? The random crazy shit she does? He loves to see it.

Fuck, he loves her.

“Oh, bunny. Looks like I’m gonna need to chase you now that you refuse to come to me.”

Just a thought tho...

#yinn rambles 💭#bucky fic idea #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky #stalker!bucky #bucky fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff

143 notes · View notes

myokk · 3 months

Text

Eloise is really, really bad at chess😐

(this is a scene from my fic & I typed it up here:)

"Milady, you cannot send him there! He will surely die a terrible death, and Murdoch is our finest knight!"

Eloise blinked her bleary eyes at the wizarding chess board, not really comprehending what the tiny pieces were yelling at her. The one that seemed to be doing the most talking was gesticulating wildly and jumping up and down, trying to get her attention. When she had taken the pieces out of the box Sebastian had lent her, they had immediately recognized her and started protesting, appealing to 'their benevolent lord's innate sense of goodness', but their protests fell on deaf ears. Eloise was positive that Sebastian took some sort of perverse pleasure at watching her lose at chess.

In the background, she could hear Ominis's laughter echoing through the Undercroft. His own pieces were quite happy at the moment, preening and occasionally sending rude gestures towards Eloise's, much to Sebastian's amusement. He was narrating their every action to Ominis, whose laughter was egging on his soldiers even more.

"Eloise," Sebastian said, propping his chin up by one hand (entirely too amused, infuriatingly so, why did he have to look so handsome when she was trying to be annoyed at him?), "maybe you should move the knight..." his other hand pointed to an empty space on the board, "...here."

This declaration caused an uproar. There were shouts of betrayal, tiny pieces gesticulating wildly to the carnage surrounding the board as they shouted in vain. She didn't see any other viable moves, so Eloise sighed and ordered the brave little Murdoch to where Sebastian had suggested. Chaos immediately ensued and Ominis's queen gleefully knocked his head off with a violent swing of her scepter. Eloise's pawns all doubled over, sobbing as their most valient knight fell, and her remaining bishop shook his tiny fist in outrage up at her.

After a few more minutes, much to Eloise's ashamed relief and the boys' disappointment, her pieces refused to move for either her or Sebastian. They solemnly collected the remains of their fallen comrades with as much dignity as they could muster and marched off the board and back into their box in a mourning parade of sorts.

Sebastian joined Ominis's pieces as they jeered the losing team off the board, causing Eloise to glare fiercely at him. "You were the one telling me what to do, and they're your pieces! Show some loyalty."

He shrunk away from the intensity of her gaze and held up his hands in protest. "I was suggesting the moves as a joke! After last week's fiasco, I didn't think you'd fall for it again."

Ominis was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath, and the two of them turned to watch him. Even through her irritation, Eloise couldn't help but smile at him - he was always so solemn and these bouts of mirth were few and far between. He managed to speak between bouts of laughter. "I...I couldn't...I couldn't believe it when you sent your bishops one by one into my trap! It was so obvious! And then...and then you..." Ominis dissolved into fits of laughter again and couldn't finish.

Eloise turned her angry glare to him. "We can't all be chess geniuses!"

"I've tried teaching you and you don't listen! For the next time, I'm only going to give you one piece of advice: don't listen to Sebastian." He chuckled once more to himself and then turned slightly to the board, addressing his men (and queen) and giving them a debriefing. He always did this after he won the matches; it was a strange sort of ritual that he seemed to look forward to.

#idk why I’m sharing the writing here but it was a scene I liked 😭#I am positive my ao3 readers do NOT overlap here but anyways #now I can add this drawing as an illustration😇🙏#I drew this a few days ago but forgot to upload lol #also this is my first time writing since like middle school please don’t judge it too much😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏#I love how Sebastian looks at Eloise🥹💓#I always thought wizarding chess was so funny #and I would DEFINITELY play it like Sebastian does #trying to cause as much chaos as possible without caring if I win😈#Ominis gets tired of it though so he plays Imelda more often #in my mind #Ominis’s thoughts are so ordered and he is so disciplined that chess comes quite easily to him #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hphl #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #eloise #Eloise babbit #sebastian sallow fanart #sebastian sallow x mc #lmaooooo another tag novel I am sorry everyone😔🙏#hogwarts legacy fanfic

114 notes · View notes

twelvemonkeyswere · 9 months

Text

watching more of Ace and 7th, I'm delighted by their unmatched dynamic:

the Doctor built a gigantic weird grey square thing to substitute Ace's boombox, which was destroyed by the Daleks (awww)

while spying on some nazis, Ace sneezes. the Doctor immediately fakes bird sounds so nobody suspects there's a human there

when Ace sprained an ankle, the Doctor adamantly insisted on helping her himself and gave her a small speech about how she has to take care of herself

while spying on the nazis, the Doctor asked Ace if she ignored his instructions and has explosives in her backpack. she says she's "a good girl" and does as she's told, so he says "excellent, blow that vehicle up." she's SO thrilled about it

Ace has defended the Doctor with all her heart every time someone accuses him of something because that's her Professor and she rescued him from the street and gave him a forever home. she defended him even though he refused to explain his past and a cryptic lady teased that the Doctor had deep secrets that couldn't be revealed without grave consequences, and there were hints that he was involved in the creation of Gallifrey in the Time of Chaos. Ace said "fuck the lot of you this is my old weird little guy go find your own" and stood her ground

Ace made friends with a girl in a town who had her exact same energy. they began talking about nitroglycerine so Ace told her they should talk outside. when her new friend asked why, Ace said "he gets upset when I talk about explosives" loud enough for the Doctor to hear her laugh. he let her go without another word

in that same episode, Ace meets another female soldier who was now commanding Brigadier, as well as Brigadier Stewart's wife. They all went out on a girl's night, leaving the house chores to their respective male companions. The Doctor was beaming at the women while leaving and very cheerily said he'd cook something for the men left behind

sometimes the Doctor is trying to figure something out and Ace chimes in to ask questions that prove the Doctor has been teaching her about physics

the 7th is very vocally anti-war and anti-violence yet has immediately resorted to death threats the moment someone's even sniffing at Ace. I've seen him use a sword, several types of guns, and maybe a bomb? All to prevent Ace from being slightly threatened

Ace accidentally destroyed a madman's lab while being attacked by some creatures. The scientist was all "YOU RUINED MY LIFE'S WORK" and the Doctor turned proudly to Ace and said "that's my girl"

one time they sat at a bar and Ace tried to order alcohol. the Doctor growled a warning "Aceeeee" and she sheepishly changed it for a lemonade

the Doctor boops Ace's nose several times as a sign of affection, and Ace smiles and accepts it, which I'm CERTAIN she would never take from anyone else

Ace has repeatedly dragged the Doctor around when he was being stubborn, sometimes even using his own umbrella, which I'm CERTAIN he would never take from anyone else

the Doctor keeps sending Ace places where she will be out of harm's way and Ace keeps finding direct and indirect ways to put herself in harm's way, which makes the Doctor then run after her to help her. this is literally what most episodes are about.

Ace repeatedly refuses help and compliments, but never from the Doctor. she also talks with insolence to most adults she encounters, but never to the Doctor, even when she's angry or talking back to him

the Doctor encourages Ace to be brave about her fears. there are very few things that truly scare Ace and make her feel insecure, and he is honest about what makes him scared and insecure, to show her he wants her to get through this

one time they had to return a magic sword to its place, and they were doing a ritual about it. Ace, who took it out in the first place, held the sword insouciantly to put it back and the Doctor says "Ace, don't you have a sense of the moment? this is important" and Ace just flatly says "no" and smashes the sword back

after a long day of being hunted down by creatures the Doctor paces around to monologue and when he turns to Ace, she's fallen asleep on a couch. so he smiles and gently pats her cheek with the back of his hand

truly the most duo of all time

#i love that he's very aware this gremlin child picked him as her Designated Adult and he's very gleefully taking care of her best he can #most of the time the job is to hold Ace back but more importantly #the job is to know when *not* to hold Ace back #when someone told me Ace was his daughter I thought they were exaggerating but truly this is His Child #doctor who #classic who #7th doctor

382 notes · View notes

atlasofthestaars · 9 months

Text

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .014

first part | previous part | next part

NOTES:

Hoping for the best that I get this out sooner than nearly 3 weeks haha I’ll update this part with how that goes.

Edit: I had a very hectic last few weeks. Oops. But here’s the chapter finally haha

Some of the ideas in the fic, like the Johnny section was helped by some of my anons on tumblr, ty guys for interacting!

As requested, here’s Rain’s repoll! Probably the only repoll I will do haha ^^ AO3 fans give me your thoughts! The poll will end in a week!

FROM THE EYES OF SOMEONE WHO HAS TO HELP SOMEONE OUT

“I thought I would find you here.”

It was a warm night. It was the type of night where one could sit outside for hours on end listening to the crickets chirp. The sky above was the perfect accompaniment this particular night, being so clear and free from clouds and any sort of light pollution that you could nearly see the entirety of the universe above. It was the perfect night for one to relax and enjoy life.

But that was not what was happening.

You stood on the very beginning of the crest of the hill, a little away from Liu Kang. Your eyes scanned the hunched over form of your friend. It was an odd look on him, a form so undisciplined from one of the most diligent men you knew. As odd as it was, it only made sense. After all, how could you expect a picture perfect form from a man who has lost his best friend?

The grass rustled as you walked forward, moving to stand right next to where Liu Kang sat. You kept your gaze forward, not turning your head to look at him. You didn’t need to. Without even looking at his face, you could tell all the emotions that he must be experiencing. Frustration, grief, loneliness. It was the same emotions that had been clinging to your friend like tar for a while now.

So, instead, you stared adamantly at the tree. A rush of emotions surged through you as your gaze settled on it. So many memories were connected to this tree. Long days of just relaxing under this tree with Kung Lao came to mind. The three of you would sit under here, chatting and enjoying each other’s companies as the cicadas would sing in the background.

Or sometimes, you would find Kung Lao here, having sneakily gotten out of lessons to simply sit and snack on a few treats he had stolen from the kitchen. You never sold him out. Even when your father gave you a pointed look, you would feign innocence and claim that you had no idea where the razor hatted man went.

It only made sense to bury him here, underneath the tree he loved so, so much. It was even his favorite type of tree, the cherry blossom.

A certain silence hung in the air. It was the silence that could only be made by those who have lost someone important to them. It was the combined silence of someone who had let grief consume him and of someone who refused to grieve yet. The two reactions to the death of your friend could not be any more different between the two of you, but the unspoken words between you two could not be any more the same.

You both missed him, dearly.

“He died in vain.” Liu Kang spoke, breaking the vow of silence he had taken on. His voice was hoarse. You knew it must be from the lack of talking. But there was another part of you who knew the gravel-like quality to his voice must be from his grief and how it tore at him. You could not help but let out a sigh as you dropped your eyes to the humble gravestone in front of you.

“I know.” You replied, your voice laced with resignation. There was a tremble in your voice, your lip quivered for a moment before you set your jaw to prevent the little sign of weakness from persisting. You could not help the slump in your shoulders. It was a hard, harsh truth you’ve come to accept. As much as you’d like to believe that Kung Lao’s death meant something, the invasions Outworld has been sending as of late has proven otherwise.

You turned your gaze to Liu Kang. It was not inaccurate to say he looked like a wreck. Reddened eyes which felt like they carried the weight of the world met yours. You could still see the freshly dried tear tracks on Liu Kang’s face. It seemed like, at least for now, the champion had finally run out of tears to shed for his long time friend.

“Kung Lao would hate to see you like this.” You said, unable to keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth. You observed the way the man carried himself, and how he almost seemed like a different man entirely. The fury that he had held when he had slain Shao Kahn had burnt out, and only in his eyes could you see the remnants of the dying embers.

“I wish he were here to at least see it.” Liu Kang spat out, bitterness dripping from his voice. You did not flinch at it. You knew well enough the vitriol in his tone was not directed at you. Even if it was, the man was hurting. How could you blame him? His head raised to look at the cherry blossoms, idly watching as a few dropped and scattered around in the breeze.

“Hey, look at me.” You said, tone gentle and soft. You watched as Liu Kang kept his gaze aloft, eyes searching the skies above for an answer to his prayers. You sighed as you raised a hand, putting it gently to his cheek. Even when his fire was put out, he felt warm. Your thumb rubbed softly upon his cheek, taking a moment to wipe away the tracks that the tears left. “I know you’re grieving, but you’re falling apart.”

Liu Kang leaned into your touch. You watched as his eyes attempted to brim with tears he no longer had. His hand rose to cover yours, clinging to it as if your hand was a lifeline. You felt your heart shatter at the sight, but still, you refused to let the man in front of you see your resolve break. You could care less if he saw you at your weakest, you trusted Liu Kang enough to let down your walls. But you knew now you did not have the luxury.

The world was falling apart. Invasions were arriving. You and others would need to forge a group to fight them off. Raiden would need a confidant who had a clear mind. Liu Kang needed an anchor to keep him from drifting off. All of these duties needed someone who could rise to the occasion, and you were willing to do so your allies would not have such a heavy burden.

It was the very least you could do to make up for failing Kung Lao. You could only hope that the others did not see how much your heart was aching too.

“I’m not asking you to stop grieving.” You said. You were slow to speak, choosing each word carefully so as to not upset your friend anymore than he was. “I’m not asking you to forget him either, but you need to start living again.” The way you delivered those words felt less like a moving speech to inspire him to move on, but more like a desperate plea.

“How?” Liu Kang’s voice cracked and at the same time, your heart squeezed. His eyes searched you, as if the answer to his question would be written upon your skin. You felt his hand squeeze yours with desperation. You did not complain about the tight grip, keeping your gaze steady on his face. “How am I supposed to live knowing he won’t be here anymore?”

In truth, you didn’t know how. But you couldn’t tell your friend that. You couldn’t let him drift aimlessly anymore than he already was, you had to do something. So, instead, you gave him a soft smile as you rubbed his cheek softly once more. You prayed to the elder gods that he did not see the weakness in your eyes.

“Well first, you must take little baby steps.” You said, trying to think of the years worth of advice you had gotten from your father. “I think the first step you can begin to do is to start taking care of yourself again.” You gestured to his form. “Stop skipping meals, stop spending hours out here on end, and start letting yourself accept the fact that he is gone.” You took a deep breath. “I know that sounds like a lot, but I can’t watch you let yourself deteriorate anymore.”

“But Kung La-”

“Wouldn’t want you to stay by his grave like this.” You interrupted him, sending him a worried look. You closed your eyes and thought back to your friend. “If anything, he’d be upset that you’re doing this. He’d want you to live in his stead, to carry on his stories.” You paused, opening your eyes to watch Liu Kang’s face as you let him absorb your words.

There was a long period of silence that stretched between you. Afraid to break the fragile tension, you even held your breath. Conflict danced in his eyes, wavering between whether to trust you or the hurt that dragged him down. Silently, you pleaded for him to believe you. You already couldn’t save one friend, you had to save another.

You couldn’t fail again.

“Alright.” Liu Kang croaked. And finally, you let yourself breathe. His eyes fluttered closed as he seemed to lean his weight into your hand. In that moment, it felt like you took on his burdens. You forced your hand to be still, so he did not see your will waver. The slightest of slimes appeared on his lips, and you felt your heart soar. For even just a bit of his happiness, you would take on the world. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the way your voice nearly cracked. His eyes opened, and you put on a smile for him. You watched as he sat there, watching you for a few more moments before he let go of your hand. When stood up, wobbling just a touch. You wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. Gently, you squeezed his hip. “Come on, let’s go inside, Princess Kitana has been dying to thank you for freeing her and I have to go with Nightwolf to find a new base in America to help with the recent invasions.”

“Thank you.” Liu Kang said, his voice full of warmth.

“It’s no issue.” You said, your words full of sincerity and fondness. “I would do anything for you.” You told him, a broad smile on your lips. Your heart felt lighter than it has in a while. Just barely, you caught the hint of pink upon his ears when he turned his head. “I’ll have your back, always, Liu Kang.”

Waking up felt like a haze.

The warmth of Liu Kang’s flank against your side lingered. You laid upon the bed, which had been somewhat patched up due to you sewing up the sheets and the mattress. Your hand fiddled with the sheets, staring up at the soft glow on the ceiling as you ruminated upon what you had discovered and what to exactly do with this information.

How strange it was despite your long years of knowing Liu Kang, you still had memories left to discover with him connected to them. And those words you said, why did they feel so familiar? Not familiar in the sense that you had said them, but you swore you heard them elsewhere. You thought long and hard about it, trying to find a rhyme or reason why you had these feelings. There were several minutes that passed. You sighed as you rubbed your head. The most logical conclusion you could come up with was that it was because you’ve been in Outworld.

What else could it be? All these memories did resurface ever since you’ve gotten here.

You paused, a sudden thought breaking through the rest like a sprinter did when they ran towards the finish. You breath caught as you stared at the ceiling. Was there any point in returning to Earthrealm if all your memories were here? You laid there for a long while after, unable to ignore the logic your brain was conjuring up.

You groaned as rubbed at your face. There was no point incessantly worrying over this issue, it was not like you could do anything to change the duration of your stay here. At least, that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself. The little whisper in your head would try and continue to try and think over it. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Your fingers glided over the hasty sewed up areas of the bed, noting the bumpiness. You’d just hope no one would notice.

Then, after a few more moments of sitting, you sighed. You sighed so hard, like you were trying to relinquish your worries that way. You closed your eyes, trying to rid your worries once more. Then after that futile attempt, you got up and stretched. Might as well start your day.

After going through the morning routine you’ve become somewhat accustomed to, you stepped out into the hall. Perhaps it was the room, or maybe it was the last of the warm memories finally leaving, but it felt…colder outside. Not enough to have you shivering, but it sent a slight chill through you. A few goosebumps appeared on your arms.

You stood there for a moment. At first, you didn’t realize why, but then as you heard the tapping of feet coming from the far down hallway you realized you were waiting. You turned your head to see the usual culprit, Princess Kitana. You gave her a cheery wave to which she gave a respectable nod. You met her halfway down the hallway. If someone were to observe, they may notice, just for a fleeting moment, that her steps went faster before meeting you.

“Glad to see we’re both back on schedule.” You commented, a light playful tone to your voice. You watched as Kitana’s eyes squinted slightly, the edges of her lips curved upwards in the slightest smile. She hummed, a hint of amusement in her voice. As soon as you joined her side she seemed to be content and nodded, as if she were acknowledging that contentment. Still, as you stood next to her, you felt that familiar nagging feeling once more.

Why did you always feel it around her?

“I heard you got the privilege to tour the Imperial Academy.” Kitana spoke, breaking the silence. Her voice did not hide her intrigue at the idea of you at the academy. Her eyes seemed to rake over you, scrutinizing every little detail of you she could see. You resisted the urge to shiver, to not show the slight moment of weakness upon her observant gaze. “How did you find it?” She inquired a moment later, her voice seeming to imply she already knew your answer. Your eyebrows raised just very at the thought.

“It was lovely.” You admitted, finding yourself unable to conceal the underlying admiration you felt towards the location. You tilted your head upwards to look at the vast expanse of white marble overhead, thinking of all the wonders you had seen. You were even beginning to see the swirls of magic within the material above. You didn’t think you were obsessed, but it would be hard to deny that idea with how you were seeing things that weren’t even there. You didn’t notice how her smile grew, becoming less restrained. “I wish magic was more used in Earthrealm, it’d be nice to see a school much like the academy there.”

“You seem very interested in magic.” The princess said, reading your reaction. It wasn’t an incredibly difficult feat though, it was obvious to anyone who could see. You could not help but nod in response, only feeling a touch embarrassed at being so obvious. A small chuckle left your lips. Her eyes seemed to soften, if just a touch. “If I recall correctly, you have magic as well. Animal shapeshifting, correct? I overheard it at the banquet.”

“Yes, animal shapeshifting.” You confirmed. You held out your hand, letting it shift into a lion’s paw outstretched with its claws out. You saw the hint of amazement in Kitana’s eyes. Her eyes traced the length of your transformed limb, then stared intently at the flesh where it transitioned. “I’d like to think I’m rather proficient in it.”

“I see.” The blue clad princess said, her tone indicating a hint of interest at your display of magic. “Had you been an Outworlder, I would say you would have a chance at excelling greatly at the Academy.” She admitted. For a moment, your heart skipped a beat at the high praise. Then, you felt a little silly at being so pleased at the compliment. After all, it’s not like it meant you could get in even with your magical skills.

“A shame that I’m not.” You say, a small wistful tone in your voice. It still felt…odd to not label yourself as an Outworlder. In Earthrealm, you did not feel right calling yourself one of them. But here, you did not feel right calling yourself an Outworlder either. Was there really a label you’d feel comfortable with?

“Perhaps, in another life, you could have.” Kitana said, offering you an apologetic smile. You nearly stumbled in your steps upon hearing those words, and the nagging feeling disappeared as the pieces fell into place. Your eyes widened and you stared at the princess, who seemed none the wiser as she gazed into the Great Hall, which you both had ended up at finally.

That’s why you had that feeling and why it was always around her.

Those were the exact words she said as she had laid dying in your lap, in that vision you had about the amulet. Your fingers twitched as you took in a deep breath, holding back a wave of nostalgia as you gazed at her for a few moments more. It was an odd feeling, seeing the princess alive and healthy with little idea of who you were compared to the last time when she had said those words and she had been one of your closest allies and dying in your lap.

“Enjoy the match.” Kitana bid you goodbye, offering a small smile before walking off. You nodded, barely able to return her goodbye before she was out of earshot. Your gaze lingered on her a moment more. Your stomach twisted, and you were uncertain how to make use of the information you had gleaned.

Why did it seem like everyone you had cared about in the last life died?

Was that fated to happen once more?

Before you could get too lost in your spiraling thoughts, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Your thoughts paused, as if the hand on your shoulder pulled you away from all the noise. You turned your head slowly to see Kenshi looking at you, eyebrows raised. You sent him a bit of a forced smile, trying to not worry him any more than he seemed to be.

“You were spacing out.” Kenshi said simply. His eyes focused on you, searching your face for any indication for your unusual behavior. You felt your smile grow the slightest bit strained, like a string being pulled just a bit too tight. His eyebrows knit together, and you felt a sense of embarrassment at how he could read your expression.

Or maybe you were just easy to read in general. Either way, you didn’t feel too great about that.

“Early mornings, you know how it is.” You said, using possibly the lamest excuse you could have. You nearly wanted to smack your forehead as you realized how uncharacteristic that sounded as well. If anyone were to say that excuse, you were the last one who should have. Your jaw set a tiny bit more, trying to make your smile more prominent.

“I see.” Kenshi said, after a few more moments. There was an odd tension between the two of you. It was the type of tension that could only be made between someone who had lied very, very horribly, and by someone who could see right through the lie as if it were the most polished glass in the world. His hand squeezed your shoulder.

Your gaze dropped to the hand on your shoulder. You stared at the tattoo on his hands, having nearly forgotten the designs on his hands. He didn’t put them on display very often. Your lips pursed, and you thought long and hard about whether he had similar tattoos, if any, in the old timeline. You don’t think he did.

“See something interesting?” Kenshi’s words cut through your thoughts. You glanced up, seeing his concerned expression having changed into one of interest. The ex-yakuza member’s eyebrows were raised, and his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. His eyes, which you now noted to be just the perfect shade for him, were trained on you. There was a certain tone to his voice that you couldn’t pin down, was it playfulness?

“I was just looking at your tattoos. They’re really pretty.” You admitted, before wanting to smack yourself. It was not because of the admittance, it was because you had forgotten the connection the tattoos had to his past. “Not that I think they’re too pretty, because of your connection with your past.” You quickly added on, resisting the urge to cringe at the addition. You sighed and closed your eyes, shaking your head. “I think they’re nice, regardless of your past, is what I meant.”

“Maybe the early morning is getting to you.” Kenshi said, his voice having just the tiniest hint of a teasing lilt to it. Once more, he squeezed your shoulder. His eyes seemed to shine a bit, and a smile grew. Out of all your champions, he smiled the least. But whenever he did, you always seemed to notice how bright it felt to you. “But thank you for the compliment, now let’s join the group. Even Cage is there now.”

And so, the two of you walked over to the group. A round of greetings were passed between the group. You did your best to maintain your steady composure. It was getting harder and harder with all the memories coming back rapidly, especially with how dreadful they’ve been lately. Liu Kang and Kung Lao’s greetings were the hardest to return as you were trying your best not to space out and linger on the differences between their past selves and now.

Still, you did it, and no one seemed the wiser. Kung Lao had even given you some food. You were nearly honored by the gesture, knowing he saved you some food instead of taking it all for himself. You let out a small huff at the little wink he sent your way when he handed you an extra portion.

“What was up with your little moment with Tattoo?” Johnny asked, leaning over with an all too nosy tone in his voice. You’ve seen the older women in Fengjian be less nosy than he was. And man were they always vying for some gossip whenever you visited Madam Bo. You sent him a perplexed look, which seemed to spur him on. “You know, like, when he had his hand on your shoulder.” He said. His hands were very emotive, portraying the story all on their own.

“Nothing.” You said, dismissively. You shrugged, and you watched as Johnny seemed to deflate at your answer. He was either not pleased at the lackluster answer, or how little you elaborated. Probably even a mixture of both. “It was seriously nothing, he just noticed I was spacing out.” You continued, hoping to satiate the little bit of curiosity he had.

“Mhm, sure.” He replied, a hint of skepticism in his tone. “We’ll discuss this later.” The actor insisted. You opened your mouth to respond that there was nothing else to discuss, but then the Empress and princesses strode in, causing you to fall silent. Instead, you sent him a hint of a glare. Of course, the actor didn’t care, just sending you a sunny grin in return.

What unlucky timing.

“Once again, we gather to witness another day of the tournament.” Sindel announced, scanning the crowd. When her eyes landed on Raiden, who seemed to be growing in confidence with every win, her lips pursed. You held back a chuckle at the slight annoyance that glimmered in her eyes. You saw her take in a deep breath before continuing. “After three fights, your resolve has not yet broken.” She observed, raising an eyebrow. “Today, we shall see if that will change.”

There was a pause before she continued.

“Today, you shall fight one of my most trusted allies.” The Empress announced. You were surprised for a brief moment. The last two fights were chosen by the general, did she finally get fed up with his choices? You held back yet another laugh at the prospect. “Sheeva of the Shokan shall be your opponent today.”

From the end of the hallway emerged a broad, tall figure. Nearly rivaling Kotal in size, a woman dressed in battle-ready armor appeared. You felt a slight buzz upon seeing her, but nothing overly major. Her armor, though indicative of a warrior, appeared different from the ones that both Reiko, Kotal, and General Shao had all donned. It was a hint more decorative, and it reminded you very slightly of the umgadi gear. A purple sash that matched Sindel’s colors was pinned across her body.

“Sheeva is one of the best warriors from the Shokan. Fierce and loyal, she is one of the best guards and warriors I have come to know.” Sindel said, a certain type of fondness in her voice. It felt like a stark contrast to the way she had regarded Li Mei. Sheeva seemed to take the praise in stride, holding her head up high. All four of her arms flexed, showing the muscles that she had gained through the years. “May she grace us with a fight to display just how well she can fight.”

“I have heard many things about your prowess, young one.” Sheeva spoke, gazing down at Raiden. Her face, though it looked unimpressed, did seem to hold just a bit of respect within it. Her upper arms crossed over her chest, while the lower set of arms were firmly placed upon her hips. Her gaze was so strong it was nearly unnerving. “We shall see if they are true.”

“I will try my best to prove it true.” Raiden replied, nodding. Despite the difference in both bulk and height, Raiden seemed to not be cowed in the slightest. You smiled at the sight, feeling proud of the strength he displayed. He has certainly come a long way since the beginning of your training. From a meek sapling to a strong, sturdy tree.

Sheeva’s way of fighting reminded you a bit of Reiko’s. They both utilized the same grappling style, trying to latch onto Raiden like a leech to hit him. The Shokan was amazingly proficient at using all of her arms within combat. Her fighting style, though like the second in command, did not match the calculated way she fought. That part of her felt more like Kotal.

Her brutality was not out of bloodlust, but from the cold precision of knowing her true strength and how to use it against her opponent. Even when she stomped harshly on Raiden’s back, there was no maniac energy from her. It was a detail that you did not miss.

Had Raiden not fought against other grapplers and those who already outsized him in a match, he would have fared far worse. But, unfortunately for the Shokan, it seemed that the previous two matches only served to prepare him for this fight. Sure, he did take a heavy hit here and there, but for the most part it went far smoother than the last few matches did.

It did not take long for him to stand over Sheeva, a tired but elated look on his face.

“I hope that proved my determination to you.” He said, his voice a bit breath as he adjusted his rumpled clothes. A groan left the beaten Shokan’s face. But as she stumbled to her feet, she seemed to nod in response. Her head dipped low, a look of shame coating her face. She seemed to hold herself a little less tall now. The two exchanged bows, before the woman walked out, her footsteps heavy with defeat.

“Congratulations upon yet another win.” Sindel said, her lips curling upwards. Her smile, once again, did not reach her eyes. In fact, her eyes did not even seem to follow the victor. Instead, they trailed after Sheeva, a slight look of disappointment within them. She cleared her throat, and the momentary weakness disappeared. “We shall adjourn at first light once again.”

“Hah, was that even a challenge for you?” Kung Lao spoke, walking merrily to his friend. A playful shove was sent Raiden’s way. A small “ow” left his lips as he rubbed his arm, which certainly must be sore from how Sheeva had been tugging him around. “I think you’ve got this in the bag!” He encouraged, though this time it lacked the little shove.

“Indeed, your training reflects well in your matches.” Liu Kang added in. He sent a little bit of a look towards Kung Lao. “Remember not to grow complacent, the next few matches may prove to be more challenging than the previous ones.” He warned. His hands were clasped neatly in front of him. The fire god’s gaze then turned to you, expectantly.

“Lord Liu Kang is right. As long as you remember what we taught you when you fight, you’ll do fine.” You said, giving him a small smile. You crossed your arms as you shifted your weight. “But I do agree, you’ll need to be vigilant. I’d say it was a lucky streak that your last opponents had similar fighting styles, but the next few may fight very differently from them.” You placed a hand on his arm, trying to be comforting. “But I, and so do the rest of us, believe in you.”

“I-” Raiden began, seeming a bit caught off guard by either your words or the touch on his arm. He cleared his throat, a faint flush on his cheeks. Johnny took your attention away by slinging an arm around your shoulders. Turning to give him a confused look and to shrug off his touch, you missed the brief look that Raiden sent your way before you turned back. “I understand, I’ll do my best.”

“Good.” You commended, sending him a bigger smile this time. Then, after a moment, your hand dropped from his arm. Liu Kang picked up from your little moment, telling the group a few things before he dismissed them. You watched as Liu Kang, Kenshi, and Raiden all walked off. But Kung Lao lingered, a look of contemplation on his face. You tilted your head as you walked forward to stand next to the man. “Something on your mind?”

“Just thinking.” Kung Lao answered, a thoughtful tone to his voice. You raised your eyebrows, nodding to see if he would go on. After a few moments, he did. “I know Raiden deserved to be the champion but…” He said, trailing off as he looked to the side. You nodded, placing a hand on his bicep and squeezed it gently, making him return his gaze to you.

“I admire your willingness to fight.” You said, cautiously picking your words. The memory of the old Kung Lao dying because he had been far too eager to fight lingered in your mind. Was it a warning of things to come? Or was it merely just a stain in your mind that would never go away? “But know that we all see your value even without you launching yourself head first into battle.” You pinched his arm. “Don’t go around and be reckless to try and prove yourself, okay?”

“If I were to fight though, I’d win.” Kung Lao retorted playfully, but that attitude melted away to reveal a more genuine smile. “I know, though.” He said, nodding. “I promise I won’t go around picking fights…unless they deserve it.” He said, grinning at you. When you sent him an unamused look, he rolled his eyes before laughing. “I’m kidding! I won’t.” He claimed, raising his hands up in surrender.

“Good. I’m going to do some shopping now, okay?” You said, nodding with a satisfied smile. You dropped your hand, missing the way the farmhand’s eyes trailed after it. As you were about to walk off to go tour Sun Do for gifts, you felt a hand upon your arm. Your eyes trailed up from the hand to the culprit. It was none other than Johnny. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah.” The actor said, his smile that was so bright it nearly rivaled the sun. His hand dropped so he could spread his arms out wide. “Saw the other day that Rai-dude got to have a day with you, it’s my turn now.” He announced, seeming almost a bit too proud of himself. “That, and I did say we had stuff to discuss later.”

“We’re taking turns hanging out?” Kung Lao spoke up, having not left yet. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between you and Johnny Cage. A look of utter confusion was obvious on his face. You were nearly certain that a similar look was upon your face. You were no less confused than he was. “When am I getting my day?”

“We’re not taking turns, don’t worry about it.” You reassured the former farmhand. You looked back at Johnny with an exasperated look. “Don’t say things like that, people will get the wrong idea, Cage.” You scolded him pointing a finger his way. “Why do you even need me to accompany you today?” You inquired. You noticed the slightly irritated tone in your voice and sent him an apologetic look. “Not that I mind.”

“I need someone to help take some pictures of me around Sun Do so I can post it on my socials.” The American informed you causally. Either he didn’t notice the tone in your voice, or didn’t care. You were assuming that with him, it was the latter. A broad grin crossed his features as a more confused look appeared over your face.

“But I wouldn’t anyone else be bet-” You began. You were shortly cut off by Johnny grabbing your hand. With a surprised shout, you were dragged off by Johnny outside of the palace before you could protest more. Too stunned, you let him lead you away, mind still mulling over the strange excuse he had given you.

Left in the dust was Kung Lao who looked at where you two had disappeared to. There was a moment where there was nothing but sheer confusion spread across his face. Then, Kenshi passed by, having returned to the Great hall. He looked at the farm hand with a perplexed look as well. He glanced back and forth between where Kung Lao was looking and the man himself.

“Are you okay?” The swordsman asked, having not been there to witness the little scene.

“Yeah.” Kung Lao said, snapping out of his stupor. He shook his head, trying to dispel the strange hurt feeling he felt before shrugging. “I’m just really, really confused.”

“You didn’t have to drag me out here, Cage.”

“Nah, I totally did have to.” Johnny said simply. The blunt response stunned you for a moment. Normally, you would have a witty remark or be able to bounce back. But with how strange Johnny has been lately, you’ve found yourself more and more uncertain of what to say in response. You didn’t quite like how speechless you’ve become.

“No, you really didn’t have to.” You insisted. Your words fell upon deaf ears as Johnny continued to drag you towards the capital. It wasn’t until you both made it to the city that he finally released your hand. You sighed as you sent him a look before shaking your head. “Well, we’re here.” You stated the obvious, looking around at the crowd. “Where did you need the picture?”

“Oh, we don’t need to do that now.” The actor told you with a grin. You stared at him with a look of disbelief. “In fact we have to wait. I wanted to do these pictures at sunset so we can get those sweet, sweet colors.” You looked upwards into the sky, noting just how early it was. Sunset was hours away. You sighed, you guess you were stuck with the man for a bit. He didn’t seem dismayed at all by your reaction, instead slinging an arm around you and leaning in close. “So, where to first?”

“I didn’t really have a plan.” You said, crossing your arms. “I was really going to go window shopping.” You inform him, trying to think of ideas for the two brothers you hadn’t gotten gifts for yet. So far, you were drawing a blank. Glancing over to Johnny, who seemed to be very pleased with placing almost all his weight upon you, you pursed your lips. “I suppose you don’t have any ideas for what to get Bi-Han and Kuai Liang?”

“The ninjas?” Johnny inquired, eyebrows raising. Before you could correct him that they weren’t quite ninjas he continued, “I dunno, some breath mints for frost face?” He suggested, shrugging. You sent him an exasperated look, but you supposed asking Johnny out of any of them was the wrong decision. He probably didn’t hold either of them in such high regard after what they did to his…Hichuli. He laughed at your reaction, nudging you. “Okay, fine, how about we go window shopping like you said, we’re bound to think of some ideas.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You said, nodding. You stood there, waiting for him to move. When he remained leaning against you, you raised your eyebrows. “Are you expecting me to be able to drag you around everywhere?” You inquired, a tinge of amusement in your voice apparent. A smile spread across your lips. Maybe it was because he was an actor, but he never failed to be entertaining to you.

“Where’s your sense of fun?” He groaned, a hint of a pout on his lips. Still, he relented and got off of you. With an overexaggerated bow that reminded you of certain characters in a movie, he gestured towards the city. “Lead the way?” He inquired, his eyebrows waggling playfully. You rolled your eyes at the grand performance and chuckled before beginning to walk over to the stores.

Even after touring part of Sun Do with Raiden, there were still plenty of shops you had not explored yet. Both you and Johnny peeked into stores, marveling over their wares with different degrees of wonder. There were a few times where you’d hear mutter how he wished that he had an easy way to convert his American dollars to the Outworlder coin.

It took a while until you found a good gift. Or rather, until Johnny found a good gift.

“How about this?” The actor asked. The two of you had ended up in some sort of jewelry store. While you hadn’t been too keen on the wares here fitting the idea of a gift for either of the brothers, you both decided to tour it anyways. Upon seeing the suggestion Johnny lifted towards you, you were infinitely glad that you did.

You grabbed the ribbon he had held up, eyes wide with amazement. It was made of gold and black fabric, perfectly long enough to do someone’s hair. In fact, it seemed meant to be tied into one’s hair to keep it up. The thread work was immaculate. It was woven intricately, creating a pattern that vaguely reminded you of a scorpion.

It was practically perfect.

“Where did you find this?” You asked. You rubbed your thumb over the design before flipping it over and admiring how soft the fabric was. You looked from the ribbon over to Johnny to see what may be the smuggest look you’ve seen on his face. “I mean, this is pretty much what I’ve been looking for.”

“Just over here.” Johnny told you, pointing his thumb in the direction of a display of other ribbons. You wandered over, humming as you perused the rest of the collection. Unfortunately, there was nothing that stuck out to you as something you’d want to give to Bi-Han. Still, as you looked back down at the ribbon in your hands, you were grateful to find something. “You seem really pleased by my findings.” He observed. You could hear the grin through his words. “Do I get to have a reward or something?”

“Or something.” You sassed back, shaking your head. Still, you looked over to the man with a smile. “Thanks for helping me, Johnny.” You thanked him sincerely. The smile he sent made your heart skip a beat, though you weren’t quite sure why. Deciding not lingering on the why part, you turned and went to the counter to pay for the item.

Surprisingly, it was cheaper than you expected. A fact that you were grateful for so you did not completely lose your money on this one gift. The centaurian man who helped you even offered to package it in a pretty gift box for free.

“You’re not trying to find a pretty little trinket for yourself, wildstyle?” Johnny inquired as you rejoined him near the entrance. He sent you an inquisitive look as he crossed his arms. You shook your head as you tucked the box away into your bag for safe keeping. You would be devastated to find that you had lost the perfect gift for Kuai Liang. “You’re a strange one.”

“Really now?” You quipped back, raising your eyebrows as you turned back to look at him. You peered over to the sky, noting how low the sun had gotten. Browsing around had taken far more time than you had expected. It was nearly time for taking pictures soon, assuming that the man still wanted them. “Did you want to go find a spot to take your pictures now? Or did you still want to help me look for Bi-Han’s gift?”

“Still don’t get why you’re buying gifts for the man who broke my Hichuli, but I guess we’ve got some more daylight to burn.” Johnny replied, shrugging.

And so, the two of you continued to browse. Unfortunately, even between the two of you, you still failed to find something appropriate for the icy grandmaster. Luckily for you, you still saw that there were plenty of stalls to go through. Tomorrow, perhaps you’d have better luck.

That’s how you got to the pier, squinting down at Johnny’s phone. You’ve rarely touched his phone. The only times you’ve bothered to interact with it was to play Candy Crush whenever the actor wanted to bribe you to give them a break, or to show Kung Lao the video.

Still, holding it in your hands, something about the device felt oddly…familiar.

“You know how to take a picture, right?” Johnny said, leaning over to point at the screen. You looked over to him, giving him a sigh.

“That’s what I was going to tell you, Cage.” You told him, sending him an exasperated look. You had nearly forgotten about his little excuse to drag you out here. How silly it seemed now. You thought about telling him if he had just asked to accompany you on your little shopping trip that you would have let him, but you figured you were past that point now. “I have no idea how to really take a picture, so your luck with me taking actual quality ones for your social media is pretty low.”

“You’ll probably have a knack for it.” The actor encouraged you. He positioned so he could wrap his arms around you, placing his hands upon yours. While Johnny was usually touchy, this felt…different. You suppressed a shiver as you noted how gentle he was being. “Here, lift it up to this angle.” He instructed, his voice quieter than usual. And yet, when it was right next to your ear you hardly noticed how he was pretty much whispering. Was your face getting hot?

“Good.” Johnny praised, and like usual, you could hear the smile in his voice. The smile your heard though, was a different type of smile. It wasn’t arrogant or smug. It felt like he was proud of you. “You’ll want to tap the screen if it’s out of focus.” He said, and tapped on the screen to demonstrate. You nodded, pursing your lips as you tried your best to focus on the task at hand. Did he really have to be this close though?

“Anything else I should know?” You asked, hoping the way you spoke didn’t reflect the way you were feeling oddly nervous right now. You had no idea why your nerves were acting up, it isn’t as if you were being tested on anything. You did not turn your head, feeling like you would grow more nervous if you turned your head to look at the man.

“Nope, you should be good. I’ll be telling you whenever to take a shot. Oh, taking a picture is this button by the way.” He said, pressing the circle at the bottom of the screen. You nodded diligently, back oddly straight as you tried to focus on anything but him. You had to hide your sigh of relief as he unwrapped his arms, backing up. “Alright, let me get into position.”

You watched as Johnny jogged over to the spot he had apparently determined in his head. You kept your arms up, not wanting to lose the perfect angle that the man had decided for you. Still, the memory of his touch on your hands lingered in your mind. Johnny prepped himself, moving between a few poses before he settled on one and called out for you to take a picture. You grinned at the rather amusing pose he struck. Was he trying to pretend to hold the sun?

Nodding, you moved your thumb to press the button. Accidentally though, you made the screen flip, making it turn to your smiling face. Following that accident, you pressed the button. With a sigh, you furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to figure out how to turn it back around. After a few moments, you offered him an apologetic smile as he walked back to you.

“Did you get the shot?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. You shook your head and handed the phone over, sighing.

“I told you I didn’t know how to take pictures.” You sighed, pointing at the screen and how it was still using the forward facing camera. “I accidentally flipped the screen and made it take a picture of me.” You explained, your tone indicating your embarrassment at not knowing how to navigate the device well. You watched as he lifted the phone up, so he could see it better. The only issue now was that you couldn’t see it. “So I didn’t get the picture, sorry.”

“Main man Lord Liu Kang should really get you a phone so you can start learning. Don’t sweat it though, Teach.” Johnny observed, humming as he tapped the screen a few times. His eyes lit up after a few moments. A small smile curled onto his lips. Then, almost as if remembering you were there, he cleared his throat as he looked back to you.

It was rare to see him taken off his guard.

“Here.” He said after a few moments. When the phone was handed back to you, it was correctly oriented this time. “Try not to switch it again, or do, I don’t mind having a few photos of you in my phone.” Johnny teased you, sending you a wink. Before you could retort, he jogged back to the spot. You shook your head, unable to resist a smile.

This time, you took what you thought was a pretty good picture.

By the time you and Johnny returned to the palace, it was dark. You had spent the fading bits of daylight on taking every picture you could. You thought it was excessive, but the actor had told you something along the lines of “we don’t finish until it’s perfect in the industry”. You had tried to tell him that there was no industry here, but he promptly ignored you.

You had half a mind to groan at his stubbornness.

“Busy day?” Raiden inquired, seeing the both of you walk into the hallway. It seems the reserved seats had changed for the both of you. You had a choice of either between Kenshi and Liu Kang or between Raiden and Kung Lao. You slipped into the one next to the champion, humming as you reached over to get your share of food.

“You could call it that.” You replied. You muttered an apology as you bumped into Raiden as you leaned over. He took your apology in stride, smiling generously at you. “I managed to get another gift under my belt. No luck in finding one for Bi-Han though.” You said, sighing. “Then again, I predicted getting a gift for him would be the most difficult.”

“Maybe tomorrow I can help.” Kenshi spoke up. You glanced up at him, a bit of surprise on your face. You nearly missed the look of what you could only call betrayal on Kung Lao’s face. Why that was the case, you had no idea. You felt a little bad, it looked a little funny. You brought a hand to hide the bits of a smile that threatened to slip through. You hummed, tilting your head after you recovered from your near smile. You thought about the offer for a moment before nodding.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” You said. As you peered down at the food on the table, you missed the pointed looks the swordsman got. When you looked up, they were gone. “I’ve found that I find the gifts whenever I’m with one of you anyways, might as well not break the streak.” You said contemplatively. “How was the rest of the day for you guys?”

The rest of dinner went smoothly from there. There was chatter here and there, catching up on each other’s day. It wasn’t until dinner was over that you encountered something unexpected. You stood up from your seat, excusing yourself. You had plans to get a bit of alone time before your usual meeting with the princess. Yet, when you turned around you were met with the sight of Rain.

“Oh, hello.” You greeted, blinking owlishly. You offered a small wave, to which the mage returned. “Did you need something from me?” You asked, looking around to see if there was something obvious around to indicate what he wanted.

“Ah, nothing much. I just wanted to talk.” He said, offering you a smile. You returned the smile, a hint of surprise and joy in your eyes. You knew Rain had offered you friendship the other day, but you didn’t actually expect him to want to spend more time together than he did yesterday. “Do you have the time for a little chat?” He inquired, his hands sweeping out to gesture to a hallway.

“Oh, definitely.” You said, nodding perhaps a bit too eagerly. You weren’t sure why, but Rain and you seemed to click quickly. You chalked it up to the shared interest in magic, and how he seemed to admire your drive to get better. “I’ll see you guys around.” You said, waving to the group before you walked off with your new friend.

“Lord Liu Kang, your stare is…intense.” Raiden pointed out quietly after you and your new friend disappeared down the hallway. The Fire God diverted his gaze away from where you had gone to the champion. He cleared his throat, putting on a cordial smile.

“Do not worry about it.” Liu Kang reassured the man. He cast his gaze upon the rest of the group, nodding at them. “Enjoy the rest of your evening. I shall see you all tomorrow for Raiden’s next fight.” He then stood and disappeared too, retiring to his chambers.

Even gods like him were not immune to human emotions.

You had talked longer with Rain than expected.

It wasn’t until you saw the man yawn that you realized just how late it had gotten. You felt a twinge of guilt course through you as you quickly realized you had to dismiss yourself. Searching around, you excused yourself, giving him an apologetic smile.

“I really should be going, I struggle with waking up without proper sleep.” You lied. You did feel bad lying to your new friend, but you weren’t certain just how public the information of your meetings with Mileena were. You figured it was best to play it safe and pretend they did not occur. With an understanding nod, the mage smiled.

“I understand.” He said. There was a pause, his lips parting before he shook his head. Your eyebrows raised at the action, but didn’t question it. You didn’t want to be too forward and scare him off. “I hope to talk to you soon. It’s refreshing to talk to someone like you.”

“I feel the same.” You told him, nodding. You watched him walk off, taking slow steps away. Then, as soon as you deemed yourself safe enough not to be caught in a lie, you slunk off in the darkness to the hanging gardens. You nearly transformed to make the job easier, but you figured that was more suspicious, so you stuck to the teachings Madam Bo had taught you.

Reaching the gardens, you let out a sigh. Here you felt safe enough to not sneak around. You looked around, spying for any sign of the princess. You caught a hint of pink, and walked right over. Just as expected, she was waiting on the bench for you.

“Apologies for my late arrival.” You said, not even certain if you were even late. It is not as if you had a clock to judge the time. Even if you did, you weren’t even sure if Outworld ran on the same time system as Earthrealm did. You rushed over to take your spot near her after she indicated towards it with her hand. “I got caught up in conversation.”

“Lucky for you, I just got here.” Mileena remarked. The jesting tone in her voice had you relax, letting out another sigh of relief. Hints of thinly veiled amusement sparkled in her eyes accompanying the little smirk on her lips. “I assume you were giving your champion a rousing speech for tomorrow’s match?” She inquired, an expectant tone in her voice.

“Ah, no actually.” You said. You felt a little silly, realizing that her assumption was something you actually should be doing. You knew Raiden did well off of praise. Not only that, but it didn’t hurt to be a little more encouraging towards the champion. Maybe you should do that tomorrow night, especially since you knew that if he won this one, he would have to fight the princess beside you. “I was talking to the High Mage, Rain.”

“I did not know you two were so…familiar.” The princess said, raising an eyebrow. You heard the curiosity in her tone. You chuckled at her phrasing, shaking your head as you waved your hands dismissively.

“Not at all.” You said, holding back a disbelieving chuckle. “He and I simply got along well during the banquet and became friends of sorts..” You explained. You turned your gaze away from the princess to the sky. “It’s refreshing to hear someone talk about magic with such fasciation and depth.”

“I did not realize you were so intrigued by magic.” Mileena remarked. This time, a hint of surprise appeared in her voice. “Do you possess magic yourself, or are you simply fascinated by the subject?” She inquired. Her gaze scanned your form, trying to see any indication of magic upon your person. Her calculating gaze felt just like her younger sister’s.

“I have magic.” You said. “Magic doesn’t really exist in Earthrealm in the same ways it does here.” You explained. “Very little people know magic themselves, and the ones I know who have such magic don’t have the same passion as the people I’ve met here.” You shrugged causally.

“Perhaps it has something to do with the goddess Delia.” Mileena proposed. “As far as I am concerned, the only god Earthrealm has is Lord Liu Kang, correct?” She inquired. You nodded. You doubted Liu Kang would have hidden another god of Earthrealm from you. “Delia is the goddess of magic, it is natural that Outworld would simply have more magic than Earthrealm.”

“I suppose.” You said, not knowing what to quite respond to that. She was probably correct. You pursed your lips as you pondered on the subject of magic for a few moments more before realizing that Mileena had been staring at you. “Oh, right the story, my bad.” You said, straightening up. You cleared your throat before glancing at the princess. “Any particular stories you’d like to hear about tonight?”

“How about you tell me about Earthrealm’s version of magic?” The princess proposed, connecting the prior conversation to the story she wished to hear. You smiled at the sentiment, thinking of what to tell her before nodding and proceeding.

That night, you told her of magic. And that night, you tried your best to ignore the longing ache in your heart.

part fifteen

tagged - @bonezisded @lollipopin @simpxinnie @zhivaxo @koisuko

209 notes · View notes

callofdudes · 1 year

Note

Hello, I hope you are well. I have a request, if it is suitable for you, can you do it? 141 men and Alex. Konig. The reader has the skills of an assassin just like Dc Damian. The only exception is that she uses guns and knives instead of swords (she usually throws knives like an assassin) and she also has some abilities like Miraculous Ladybug. Like using Yoyo as a propeller when jumping from height. And even to use as a shield to avoid gunfire. and she doesn't show her face to anyone for a long time. and everyone is surprised when she shows it because she is so beautiful. I will send you the fictional female face I found on Pinterest. And I will also send the costume she wore. I hope I was able to express myself. I translated these with google

also the reader is very quiet and doesn't speak unless really needed

and her voice is just like french singer indila do you know her?

(Headcanons and separately)

I will be honest, I have never watched Miraculous Ladybug in my life. So I focused more on the "face reveal" than anything if that's alright. But I do include your fighting abilities as the reader.

I tried my best, I hope that you like it, if there are any spelling mistakes I missed, please let me know 😄

141 + Alex, Roach, and König reacting to a skilled & beautiful Reader

You joined the 141 some time after Ghost, Price had heard of your skills in combat and he knew immediately he would like to offer you a spot on his team. Your picture never showed more than your eyes and a majority of your skill streak was bludgeoning people to death. (Ghost very much is interested in the bludgeoning part)

No one had seen your face and you refused to show it, not for a long while...

Ghost 💀

He was pretty indifferent to your skill. He could admit that you were on bloody good scout, but he hadn't really any others thoughts about you. He also covered his face so he didn't question it much. He was more skeptical of you because of it if anything.

He respected your abilities, the weapons you carried and how you got around. Your all black, low look reminded him of himself and he wasn't going to try and pry at anything.

He'd always sort of admired you from afar, and when he saw your face, he was glad he could put such a spectacle to his teammate.

The two of you had been sent on a mission into the desert which meant putting on the lighter weight masks and heading ready.

It was growing incredibly hot, but you both remained vigilant wandering through the sand and reaching the base you were supposed to raid.

"Ready-?" Ghost looked down and grumbled, seeing you already swinging your way into the gunfire. He grumbles and follows after you, taking on the alerting guards. You grabbed the shield you had on your back, deflecting bullet blows from around you.

You knocked backs with Ghost, Ghost taking out the men with his guns while you took to your array of knives and grabbed the last man near you. You grabbed him by the throat and plunged the knife into his jugular, his blood spilling into the sand.

When you both looked up Ghost looked at you. Your hat had been knocked off in the scuffle and the sun was hurting your eyes. Ghost came over to check on you and huffed. "Looks like they almost got you." He wiped the dirt from your cheek and you finally realized a bullet has zipped by your face so close it has split your mask right up the side.

You went to hide your face but Ghost grabbed your arm and inspected you for any injuries. He brushed his thumb over your cheek and huffed. He was a bit surprised you were such a looker.

"Here." He tossed you his spare mask and you both continued on. Ghost didn't tell anyone about the incident when you got back. Even when they asked questions Ghost didn't say anything.

Soap 🧼

Johnny was excited. He's always been excited for Ghost to take off his mask and it was no different for you. He wanted to see the beautiful woman under the mask. Were you as beautiful as Ghost was handsome?? Those kinds of thoughts. And he often pestered you about it.

He always wanted to know if you were beautiful and sure enough he was right. Of course about 72 hours after this incident he broke his promise started pestering you to see another glimpse of his first ''angelic experience.''

"What do you look like??" He asked from over your shoulder one day in training.

"Doesn't matter."

"Oooh come on! I won't tell anyone! I promise!"

"You're a bad liar."

Johnny pouted, sulking like a sad puppy as you threw your knives into the dummy in front of you. He kicked his legs, sitting on top of an empty gun case, watching you.

You finally sighed. "You won't leave me alone, will you??"

"Nope." He smiles.

You sigh and come over to him. "Will you leave me alone after this??"

Johnny immediately perked up. "I will never ever ever ever ask you about it again! Scouts honor! I bloody swear!"

You sigh and pull your mask down over your bottom lip, giving him a 'are you satisfied?' look. Johnny's jaw dropped. His feet stopped kicking and he was smiling. "You're so preeeeetty!!"

You roll your eyes and pull the mask back up. "there, now you never see it again."

"But you're so beautiful, like Ghost, why hide??"

"You had your two cents, now leave."

"Right... Right, I'm going..."

Johnny grinned. Stunned that you could fight and you were beautiful. It was the perfect combination! He will now tell everyone he meets you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

Price🥃 and Gaz⚽

Price absolutely thought you were beautiful. He'd not seen pictures of you without the mask but he knew you were beautiful, and he wasn't wrong. He was honored to see your face, and that you would trust in them as much as you did. It really was a treat. As for your skills in combat, Price always knew you could hold your own from the fights you'd been in, and he knew that you were perfect for his team, and you never ceases to disappoint.

Gaz would like to go no comment but he can't. He is absolutely enraptured by your face. He thought you'd be beautiful but not as much as you were. You were stunning compared to anything his mind could come up with. And he always enjoyed being your partner on the field. Considering how skilled and talented you are.

You had been setting up for a mission with Price, Gaz, Alex, and Farah. The mission would be dangerous and everyone needed to be together. You would be paired up with Gaz and Alex.

Of course though, you all needed to change into different outfits. It was an undercover mission so you weren't allowed to wear the full face covering as usual, settling for a medical mask instead.

You took off your mask and hat, setting them on the desk once you were all changed.

Price smiles, "It's lovely to see you y/n, you look beautiful."

Gaz's jaw dropped. His eyes dragged over your face, swallowing harshly. "Chin up soldier. Price chuckled and placed his fingers under Gaz's jaw, locking it back up.

"I'm sorry but- sorry!"

You chuckled pulled on the medical mask. Gaz kept staring at you, absolutely amazed at your beauty.

"Let's get this mission going!" Price rounded up the group and you were all placed in the truck to head out. Gaz sat next to you, continuing to stare.

"You're bloody beautiful by the way." He whispers as you reach the destination. You secure your mask and hop out, ready to head with Alex into the venue.

Alex 🦿

Alex hadn't seen you fight, nor had he seen your face. He'd only ever heard stories of you. So when you showed up and dropped a bomb of a face reveal he was instantly swooning. Let this man take you out on just one date! One date and he'll be fine.

When he saw you fighting he was stunned. Your hot and you can fight?? He might as well try to wife you up right here and now. Marry him or he will pass away into a pile of goop next to his fallen brother Gaz.

He'll probably get over it in a bit and just turn out like a regular crush, but he isn't afraid to try flirting in the moment. And overall he respects your fight and loves watching it. The way you hold your own really makes him happy.

Alex had seen your face when you had changed for the mission. And boy was he smitten. He took your arm and smiled at you. "Why do you hide your face, it's very beautiful." He touched your cheek. "I think the enemy would be stunned silent by your beauty."

"Let's just get this going."

"What? I can't compliment you?? Am I making you uncomfortable, sorry. I'll stop."

"Let's just get this over and done with."

The mission goes great even though Alex is gushy eyeing you all evening. When the fight starts, you grab your gun from your purse and shoot one of the undercover soldiers in the head.

"Beautiful and can kick ass?" Mr. Keller just fell over the edge and is drowning in the love pool.

"Are you going to help?" You ask, slitting another man's throat.

"Right! Sorry-!"

"How about we have a date after this??"

"Alex!"

"Right, right, not the time. How about sometime tomorrow??"

König 👑

König already had a crush on you. Like Ghost he was shy and reserved in his own nature enough he didn't question the mask. He had wondered what you looked like underneath, but he never asked out loud if you would take it off. It's kind of an unwritten rule in the mask wearers society that König and Ghost are unknowingly a part of.

He was honored when you showed your face to the team, and knowing you were incredibly beautiful. But when he saw your face it all crumbled.

"I trust you with this." You say as you pull down your mask and your hat. König stiffens, it was finally happening. He'd imagined it but it was finally happening.

His breath caught in his throat when he sees your soft face.

"You're... Du bist so wunderschön..."

He scratches the back of his neck. "You're so amazing..."

You smile and his heart stops. He didn't think he could fall more in love with you then he was right now. But apparently he could. And he is.

Your skill at his side, your reputation in KorTac, and now being privileged with seeing your face after all this time. He will never forget this moment.

He bent down, pulling up his own mask and pressing a gentle kiss against your cheek. His heart exploded when he reared back and ran from the room. It only made you smile more.

Roach 🪳

He always admired you. You were cool! He'd always tried to convince Simon that you were 11/10 in fighting, and Simon had never protected. But Roach thought you were great.

When he first met you he was delighted by the small amount of sign you knew, and he quickly grew close to you.

He was one of the first who welcomed you so easily into their group, apart from Johnny.

As someone who wore a mask, and Simons best friend, he never paid much attention to your own coverage. He saw your skills, and your amazing fighting abilities and didn't question much beyond that point.

But when you did take off your mask...

You slipped it down over your chin and reached for your water bottle. It was just you and him on base, and at first his brain hadn't quite processed your cheekbones and below.

You pulled away from your water bottle and looked at him. "What's wrong, bug?"

He blinked. And then he smiled. His cheeks turned a soft pink as he signed, You're so beautiful

You chuckled. "Thank you, bug."

He nodded, his heart starting to stutter away in his chest. It was less attraction and more about trust. He was so happy to see your face. To see one of his friends in all her glory. Because you were beautiful.

He signed again, I like seeing your face, you are great friend!

You pat his shoulder. "You are too."

And he couldn't help but hug you tightly.

590 notes · View notes

seiya-starsniper · 1 year

Note

I don't know if you're still doing the flower language prompts, but I wanted to send about twelve and narrowed it down to two lol.

So for Dreamling: Sunflower, dwarf ("How many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?") and/or Tarragon ("Here's all the reasons why you shouldn't like me")

🤘 five-and-dimes

@five-and-dimes my beloved, so happy to hear from you!!! <3 I did my best to combine these two because they’re SUCH GOOD PROMPTS and they also fit the @monsterfucktoberbingo theme so well. Hope you enjoy!!!

Square: Cryptid

Flower Prompt Game!

----------

When Roderick Burgess unveils his circus’s latest spectacle, Hob is one of the only spectators who doesn’t gasp or recoil in abject horror at what he reveals.

“Behold! I have captured the omen of Death himself!” Roderick declares loudly. “Many have decried his existence, but here he stands before you!” he gestures to the chained being. “Look upon his horrid form. Does he not strike fear even in the bravest of men?”

Well, he certainly struck something in Hob, but he wasn’t sure that the feeling was fear.

The creature on display was absolutely stunning, if Hob were honest, but he can understand why his appearance would seem a horror at first. The thing certainly wore the basic shape of a man, with pale white skin that seemed to glow under the harsh din of the spotlight, and messy black hair that fell down to his shoulders. But where his feet would be, there were instead large, golden talons with long obsidian nails that dug deep into the dirt below them as the creature struggled to keep his balance.

And his hands. They were barely hands at all, with only four fingers on each, and white nails so long they were practically claws. The skin too, from finger to elbow was ashen black as if burnt, but when Hob looked closer, he could see the skin there shimmered like the rest of him in the light.

The most significant part of the creature, though, was his wings. They were what Hob expected an angel’s wings to appear like, large and spanning the length of his body. Except, instead of white, these wings were pitch black, with the very tips of them colored a deep red, as if dipped in blood during war. Hob so badly wanted to see the full wingspan of the creature, certain that it would outdo even an albatross, but, understandably, Burgess had completely bound the creature’s wings in both rope and chains in a measure to keep him from escaping.

Burgess cracks his whip near the creature’s feet and he snarls at the crowd, who jeer and yell in response. Burgess cracks the whip twice more but the creature has gone silent, glaring defiantly now at all its unwanted audience.

When its eyes land on the area Hob is seated in, he swears it is his eyes the creature locks his gaze onto. And oh, even from as high up as he is, Hob can feel the ice forming in those cold blue eyes. It pierces through him like a hot knife through butter, and Hob finds himself willingly drawn in, wanting to move closer, wanting to reach out and touch this magnificent being—

The lights cut out shortly after, ending the show for the night. Hob goes to bed that night and dreams of the creature on the stage, dreams of talons and feathers, and drowning in an ice cold lake the color of the being’s eyes.

When he wakes in the morning, Hob is resolute. A creature as magnificent as that does not belong in chains. He sets fire to Burgess’s circus arena later that night, and he and the creature (Dream, he called himself) steal away into the night.

—-

“Why are you helping me?” Dream asks him one afternoon after they’ve been on the run for three days.

“Would you rather I left you to rot in Burgess’s circus?” Hob shoots back as he’s skinning the stag Dream hunted and caught them for dinner.

“You had a life in that village, did you not?” Dream says, refusing to let go of the subject and stomping his talons into the forest floor. “Why throw it away for something like me?”

Hob shrugs. “I’m a widower with a dead son,” he replies. “Not much of a life by anyone’s definition. Besides,” he adds, “You looked like you needed saving.”

“So it’s pity then?” Dream snarls, unfurling his wings to their full length. They brush against the nearby trees and the sheer strength of their muscles snap a few branches clean off. Hob realizes he had been right about Dream’s wingspan. It was wider than that of an albatross, and they were absolutely gorgeous.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Hob says before he can stop himself.

Dream stumbles back and retracts his wings, clearly caught off guard by the revelation.

“You don’t mean that,” Dream says, looking anywhere but at Hob. He’s got a furiously red blush that starts at his cheeks and seems to crawl all the way down to his chest. It makes him look even lovelier.

Hob smiles despite himself. “Maybe that’s why I saved you,” he chuckles. “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself.”

“Then you are an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Dream replies, before he stomps off.

—-----------

On a particularly cold night, Hob wakes to find himself covered by one of Dream’s wings.

“This means nothing,” Dream mutters, even as he presses his chest to Hob’s back.

Hob can’t help but grin like a fool. He reaches out to run a finger along the bend of the wing that’s currently serving as his blanket, and delights when he feels Dream shudder behind him.

“Your secret’s safe with me, you big softie,” Hob chuckles before he falls back asleep, feeling more content than he has in years.

—------------

They’ve been on the run for almost a year before Burgess and his men manage to catch up to them. They’re cornered at the bottom of a valley, and Hob knows if they can make it to the river and cross it, they’ll be all right. Burgess’s men are all on horses that wouldn’t dare cross the rushing waters.

They’re almost to the clearing when Dream stops suddenly and says, “Leave me.”

“What?! No, I’m not leaving you!” Hob exclaims. “Come on, we’re almost at the river—”

“Burgess’s horses will cross the river,” Dream replies. “He’s desperate to get me back, alive or dead. And you are tired.”

“I’m fine,” Hob insists.

“You’re not!” Dream argues. “You’re practically limping and you—you have done more than enough for me. If I leave you now and fly north, they’ll stop following you and come after me instead.”

“Sorry sweetheart, you’re stuck with me,” Hob replies, pulling out his sword and getting ready to fight as he hears Burgess’s men grow closer. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Dream yells. “Roderick Burgess had been hunting me long before we met, and he will continue to do so until one of us is dead. You cannot possibly want to be on the run forever.”

“And if I do?” Hob asks. “Dream—how many ways do I have to tell you I want this—want you—before you’ll believe me?”

Dream hisses, and before Hob can say anything else, he finds himself lifted high into the air as Dream takes off with the both of them, rushing at full speed towards the river. His long white claws dig into Hob’s skin and Hob holds on for dear life as he buries his face into Dream’s neck to avoid the whiplash of the wind.

When they finally land, Hob can no longer hear the neighing of the horses, or the yell of Burgess’s men. Dream practically drops him to the ground, and Hob realizes the other had used the last of his strength to get them to safety. Before he can collapse, Hob catches him, and after a quick look around, manages to find a small cave that they can use for shelter for the night.

“That was bloody brilliant, love,” Hob sighs happily once they’re inside and lying side to side. “Think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Dream mumbles. “Love me, at all. I have caused you nothing but harm, and you will always be on the run so long as you stay with me. I cannot give you any of the comforts of a human life, not money, status, or a family.”

“I know,” Hob replies gently, taking Dream's dark hands in his. “I’m not asking you to. I told you before, all I want is you. You can give me all the reasons you want about why I shouldn’t, but I’ll still choosing you.”

“Idiot,” Dream says, but his tone is fond. He then wraps a wing around Hob and scoots closer, so their bodies are flush against each other. “Though I suppose you are my idiot.”

Hob smiles and presses his lips to Dream’s. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #monsterfucktoberbingo #the sandman fanfic #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling

223 notes · View notes

from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 11 days

Text

🥀 Unwary 🥀

After working on and off for MONTHS and staring at it a long time, here’s the Théodwyn story many of you have heard me agonizing over. I can’t look at it anymore, so we’re just hitting “post”!

It’s called Unwary, which is one of the few words Tolkien gives us to describe Théodwyn’s husband Éomund. He was a “hater of orcs” who often rode against them “in hot anger, unwarily and with few men.” That got him killed and, shortly thereafter, Théodwyn herself died of an illness. This story is my attempt to tie all that together.

Note that Théodwyn’s 3 (canonical but nameless) sisters are here; they came to help after Éomund’s death. You’ll see I gave 2 of them Gondorian names; more explanation of that at the bottom if you’re interested.

There is a fire inside Théodwyn that will not be doused.

It has smoldered for years, just waiting for the breath of air that would coax its glowing embers to life and send a wave of flame racing through her as though she were made not of bone and blood but of kindling and fuel. Now lit by Éomund’s inevitable death, the fire burns bigger and hotter each new day that dawns without him, and it laps at her heart, singeing and charring until there is nothing left but heat. Gone is anything soft and pliant, anything tender or understanding, replaced instead by blistering fury.

She stalks the plains outside of Aldburg in the dark, crunching heavily over glittering, frost encrusted grass. She is trying to outrun that fury, though a fortnight of this new nightly ritual has achieved no such thing so far. But if she cannot leave her anger behind, maybe she can still exhaust it, tire it enough that it can be wrestled into submission and leave her in peace. Deep down, she suspects the effort is in vain, but she has no better plan. She is bereft of ideas, just as she is now bereft of laughter and sympathy and hope. Her husband is just one of many things suddenly missing from her life, and he is not the one she most wants back.

Sweat soaks into both her dress and cloak, and large red blooms form on her cheeks. Each gale of frigid wind catches the dampness at the small of her back or along her hairline beneath her hood, and sends a wave of wracking chills across her heated skin. But her pace never falters despite the passing of long hours and long miles. Over the sound of her boots grinding delicate ice into so many shattered crystals, she mutters her mantra again and again, hissing out the words in time with the rhythm of her steps.

I knew this would happen. I knew this would happen. I knew this would happen.

The night is her time to let this anger out, far away from Éomer and Éowyn, both much too young to be burdened with the knowledge that their dead father was a reckless fool. Someone who couldn’t control his own impetuous need to act and, worse, refused to accept a cautioning hand even from one he professed to honor and cherish. She had begged him not to go, to delay for even a single hour until more men could be gathered to join his small party of riders. But he had been blind, as ever, to anything but his own rash impulses and instincts. He had scoffed at her fears, swept aside her concerns, given bold assurances that weren’t in his power to make. And now he was being hailed as a fallen hero while she was left alone with the consequences of his folly, to manage a tragic loss that she knew to be entirely of his own making.

She hadn’t always felt this way about him. There was a time when she found his passion and spontaneity exciting. Stirring. Romantic. To be the object of his attentions, to be the desire that he would overturn the world to sate, was a special brand of intoxicant, and she drank it in willingly. His quickness to action and his unfailing courage set him apart from other men, and he gained much by risking more than others could stomach. She felt his every gain as her own, and they ran heedless together through the world, two free souls as yet unchecked by the realities of life.

But what felt brave and thrilling and decisive when they were twenty had begun to look much different on the doorstep of forty, when he had already gained more than most men could dream of and only stood now to lose what had been so daringly won. Slowly, creepingly, she began to see his whims as childish, his zealotry as self indulgent. It surprised her every bit as much as him, but somewhere along the way, with age and responsibility and perspective, she became the person who would check him as life never had. The person to ask questions, to say no, to thwart his boldest ambitions and disappoint his most absurd hopes.

Whenever she did, he would look at her as though he looked upon a stranger, an unrecognizable drudge that had stolen the body of his daring and passionate wife. He would look at her as though she had broken faith with him, betraying their bond by choosing to accept that they lived in a world of constraints and limitations. And then she would hate herself, and him, too.

A dull, thudding pain hammers away in the space right behind her eyes, and her muscles and joints ache with every wearied step, calling out for rest. To sit or lay quietly for a while might ease the strain that has increasingly weighed on her body these last few days, the strain of too little sleep, too little food, too little protection from the harsh bite of winter. But she no longer cares for physical ease or comfort. She can endure without them; it has always been the way of the Rohirrim to bear such things without complaint. What she cannot bear is the seething in her mind during moments of stillness, those times of lonely silence while others sleep and she can only gnaw on the bones of her grievances and look with contempt at her memories now tainted by abandonment. And so she stomps through the cold desolation instead, the frozen cloud of her breath drifting along in the wake of a body indulging in the only escape available.

She knows she should be at home in case her children need her, and she knows that her sisters disapprove of how she has been acting. You’ll catch your death out there, says Edlenniel each night as she walks out the door. You need to start taking better care of yourself, clucks Théopryte, a critical eye cast over her increasingly bony figure, her unkempt hair. And this, too, makes her angry, the insistence of her elder sisters on treating her as though she is still a child even now. Nothing she does is ever good enough in their eyes – her home is too untidy, her language too profane, her daughter too much at liberty to run wild rather than learning the ways of respectable girlhood. And now she cannot even grieve correctly.

In truth, she had not expected to mourn this way. The day Éomund rode off, she had imagined her own reaction to the eventual return of his meager company without him. Sorrow, longing, despair, regret – these had been anticipated despite her frustrations. But when Éothain knocked at her door with the news, watery eyes rimmed with red and a battered horse-tailed helmet in hand, she felt none of those things. They vanished in an instant, disappeared from her heart and mind, perhaps never to return. Instead, she became like the cicadas that come to Rohan every dozen years and litter the ground with their delicate molted shells, perfectly formed images of themselves that have been deserted, no longer fit for use and liable to shatter under the slightest of pressures.

Now every interaction, every well-meaning friend or suffering relative, is at risk of being the next target of the dull blade of her anger, always at the ready to hack and slice ineffectually at those who draw her attention and, thus, her scorn. The neighbors who look at her pityingly as they pass by. The men of Éomund’s company who expect her to join them in their grief. Even her sweet son, all knobby knees and gangly elbows, works an inflamed nerve as he swings a sword much too big for him, vowing to protect their house now in his father’s absence. It’s a mother’s job to protect her child, not the other way around, she says to the thin frame and slight shoulders that are not yet grown enough to bear his own charge. You have years left just to be a boy, safe under my care. But it is said through gritted teeth, her tone emotionless, and he doesn’t believe her.

She has enough awareness still to see what she’s become, and though she cannot change it, she knows to try to hide it. She labors each day to be the mother her children need, sitting with them as they cry and holding her tongue when they paint Éomund in their remembrances as a valiant hero, a man to rival all the greatest legends of song. But they know that something isn’t right within her; some voice inside their childlike minds warns them of peril in the one place where they were trained never to expect it. Éomer has stopped asking why she doesn’t cry, and Éowyn now clearly prefers to seek her comfort from Tadiel, whose soft arms, doughy middle and doting indulgence provide what Théodwyn’s sharp, angular body and brittle bearing simply can’t or won’t.

As it inches toward sunrise, she reluctantly turns toward home again, where soon the rest of the household will begin to stir and her absence will be noted, frowned about and tsked over. The judgment of her sisters is no real concern, but she doesn’t want to add to the worries of her children. For them, she will fight to maintain even the barest pretense of normalcy. For her children, she will sit in that house among the remains of Éomund’s life – his belongings, his clothes, his scent – and she will struggle to breathe through the poisonous resentment that is trapped in her throat because she cannot allow it to pass her lips. For her children, she will choke.

The gate comes into view and, beyond it, the garden that she once loved and nurtured into glory, now gone dormant for the winter. She stumbles on the rise to the path, and a knee drives into the frozen ground. She rights herself with difficulty, grunting in the effort, and she curses at this clumsiness. Weakness of body has never been a challenge of hers, and she cannot understand the heavy, dragging feeling that follows her to the door. For the first time, she considers whether everything – the throbbing head, the sweating skin, the screaming joints – is not just a product of exertion but something more serious. Something brought on by the refusal to rest, to eat, to stay warm, to accept comfort and support. It is an unsettling thought, and she tries to push it from her mind as she slips quietly inside.

The frozen sting in her fingertips and toes is a strange counterpoint to the burning heat of her forehead and cheeks, and she collapses into a chair by the fire, waiting out the gradual thaw of her frost-dulled limbs and the eventual return of her body to how it is supposed to feel. But though her fingers slowly lose their bluish tinge and sensation tentatively returns to her feet, the heat in her face and the exhaustion in her muscles only grow. Time ticks by, innumerable minutes that seem like hours, and she can feel it all continue to worsen. What little energy she had now spills from her body like the blood of the stags that Éomund used to hunt, their carcasses sliced open and left to drain. A shiver runs through her, once and then again and again and again, every time stronger until the shivers are full-body spasms that clack her teeth together, threatening to catch her tongue in each jolt. A low, groaning noise fills the room, and she discovers with surprise that it is coming from her own throat.

Good gods, Théodwyn. What have you done to yourself? Edlenniel is in the doorway, and the horrified alarm in her voice is enough to smother the instinct to snap in response. What has she done? She tries to stand, but her legs don’t respond. A strange distance has crept in and inserted itself between the intentions of her mind and the obedience of her body. She wills herself up again and lurches forward with great effort. Is she standing now? She cannot be, not with the cool, smooth stone of the floor somehow pressed to her flushed cheek. She would lift her head to check, but the exhaustion is so heavy that it pins her down, the turning of a screw that secures her, motionless, to wherever she has landed.

Her mind becomes slow and hazy, her sight flickering in and out as though she is passing quickly between rooms that are brightly lit and others that are in total darkness. Théopryte is there and then not. Calls for help are relayed down the hall, and more people rush in. Tadiel pulls Éomer from the doorway, a hand over his eyes as though the sight of his mother is too frightful for him even to look upon. Clamoring, urgent voices echo around inside Théodwyn’s head until they are no longer intelligible to her, just a whirling churn of volumes and tones. She floats, alone and disconnected, in a sea of others’ panic.

A man’s face appears in her field of vision, lifting her up and carrying her to a nearby couch. Théodred? It comes out as a hoarse whisper, and the face shakes its head. No, of course not. Her beloved nephew doesn’t live in Aldburg and never has. A neighbor, then? Or servant? She loses interest before she can unravel the mystery, distracted by a painful new sensation that prickles across the surface of her skin like a thousand small needles. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to exhale the pain with her every labored breath.

Uncounted hours pass, and she is now in her own bed, though she cannot recall being brought there. It takes all her effort just to keep her eyes open, and each time she blinks, it feels like scraping her eyelids over sand. She drifts in and out of lucidity, bobbing in a current of confused thought like a small boat tied up at the edge of a running river. When she’s lost, she is certain she can see Éomund in the corner, watching her in grave silence. When she’s present, she hears bits and snatches of hushed conversation, all in the voices of her sisters. The healer says there is nothing more to be done, says one. Such an awful waste, sniffles another. I knew this would happen, sighs the third. But who could stop her from running herself into the ground this way? She’s always done just what she wanted, no matter how rash or irresponsible.

Amidst all her pains, these words hit her like a blow, and an immediate, convulsive heaving in her stomach has others running for the healer again to manage this fresh symptom of her malady. But she knows it for what it really is: the retching out of unwelcome truth, her body’s rejection of this simple distillation of her fate. Recovery is not coming. She will die here in this bed, and her death will be needless. Pointless. And all the more shameful because she should have known better. She could have heeded the cautions and warnings of others.

Edlenniel leans her over a bowl as she empties herself of what little she’s eaten in the last day, and the bitter taste in her mouth lingers even after she has swirled and spat out many mouthfuls of water. It lingers as she collapses back into the sweat-soaked sheets that cling to every inch of exposed skin. It lingers as her addled mind struggles to reckon with the weight and cost of her mistake, this tragedy of her own making. It will always linger, for all the minutes she has left in the world and for the eternity that stretches out into the boundless, unknown future beyond it.

Her head lolls weakly to one side, and she can see Éomund in the corner still watching, silent and attentive. His face is not impassive, but calm. He accepts what has happened, is happening, will happen, and she must accept it, too. He dissolves into a vague blur as hot tears begin to spill down her cheeks, and whether they are tears for him or for herself, she isn’t sure. When she blinks her eyes clear again, he has moved closer to the bedside. He smiles softly, the wistful look of one who knows what it is to carry the burden of self-blame past any hope of remedy, and he reaches toward her with an open hand. A hand of consolation and invitation.

She will take it, but not yet.

Bring the children, she rasps out.

There is a moment’s debate in the room, furious whispers that drift to her ears. Not something a child should witness, she hears. There may not be time to wait, is the response. She repeats her request, louder this time, and the debate intensifies, rising in pitch and strength. But before the argument can resolve itself, Éomer has pushed in from the hallway, towing little Éowyn by the hand. Her words have reached them on their own.

She struggles to bring her son and daughter into focus, just as they struggle to see the outlines of their strong, capable mother in this frail, spiritless form. She craves nothing more than rest, but she knows she cannot; if she rests now, she will not wake again. She takes each one by the hand, their skin cold and dry against her own clammy fingers and palms, and presses those hands to her lips.

Be good for your uncle, she tells them. Your cousin will love you as a brother.

Éomer, quicker to understand, begins to cry, and his tears trigger Éowyn’s. Soon all three are crying together, for both the first and last time.

You deserve better than this, she should say. I have failed you, she wants to say. But would it give them any comfort to know that she belatedly understands her own mistakes? That left to do it all again, she would guarantee that they would never be without their mother? What can she tell them now that will help and not hurt, that will be a gift and not a hindrance? She swallows hard, and it is like swallowing gravel. Your father and I did the best we could, she whispers. The two of you will do better, and we will be proud.

She drops back to the pillow, exhausted beyond measure, and someone bundles the children back out into the hall again. Éomund smiles at her, and she nods. Her eyes drift closed as his hand wraps around hers, and the burning in her heart and skin slowly fades, the fire extinguished at last.

A note on the sisters of Théoden: Their father, Thengel, ran away to Gondor as a young man and lived there for a huge chunk of his life. He married Morwen, a Gondorian woman, and Tolkien tells us he only went back to Rohan “unwillingly” to take up the throne after his own father died. 2 of his daughters and his son were born in Gondor before that happened, and my HC is that all 3 of them had Gondorian names because, at the time, Thengel never had any intention of ever going back. So that gives us Edlenniel (“daughter of the exile,” since that’s how he saw himself) and Tadiel (“second daughter,” so overshadowed by her siblings that Thengel couldn’t be bothered to even give her an interesting name).

Théoden himself had a Gondorian name as well (Arnhereg, “royal blood”) but he changed it to something Rohirric (Théoden means “leader of the people”) when the family went back to Rohan both because he wanted to fit in better and because it seemed only appropriate that the future king of Rohan have a Rohirric name. Then when the other two sisters were born in Rohan, they were given Rohirric names as well (Théopryte, “pride of the people,” who was extremely beautiful; and Théodwyn, “joy of the people,” who was full of spirit).

3 of the 4 sisters were dead by the time of the War of the Ring (Edlenniel from old age, Théopryte from an accident, and Théodwyn as described here), and Tadiel had gone back to Gondor. Edlenniel never had any children and Tadiel and Théopryte had only daughters, which is why we don’t hear anything about other cousins that might have competed with Éomer for the throne after Théodred’s death. I’ve made a backstory for each of the sisters, but no use putting that all here since I’ve already gone on too long!

(Dividers by the wonderful @quillofspirit !)

#cw canonical deaths; despair; illness #théodwyn #éomund #éomer #éowyn #it’ll be nice to be done thinking about this one!#obscure canonical characters #rohirrim #lotr

39 notes · View notes

treacheryinblue · 4 months

Text

Chapter 2/4

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot Series

Word Count: 7.1k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (oral [f receiving], P in V obviously, touch of spanking), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) Thank you sooo much for all the support this story has been given. It was never was supposed to be more than a one shot, but after all the excitement behind it, I've decided to make it into a short series! I'm going to try to keep it at four parts, just to show the lore behind the characters and also maybe why it's happening...if I can make my brain create such things. ( 2 ) PLEASE suspend all thoughts of how time works when reading this. Time is pretty much just NOT a thing in Noah's realm. It's nonlinear and I refuse to be tied down by it! Also, hopefully the context clues are obvious enough for people to pick up on what time period the female character is from in each chapter. If not, feel free to hit me with a question.

Happy reading! xoxo

“The Dark Lord will be pleased with this one.”

An unknown voice sounded out around you, immediately sending a chill down your spine. You heard yourself expel a whimper of fear as your hands responded by trembling in their bindings. The man must've noticed this because a sadistic sounding laugh rang out, echoing through wherever you were and reverberating in your ears.

How long had you been tied down to this slab of rock? It easily could've only been hours, though it felt like days. Weeks. An eternity. Nothing felt longer than waiting for your impending death.

“Please…” you pleaded in a soft and broken voice. “Let me go and I will make sure no harm comes of you.”

The men again cackled, the kind that you were sure had them gripping their bellies and arching back. Maybe it was a good thing you couldn't see their dirty faces and broken teeth taunting you. That would never be the last thing you'd want anyone to have to witness before their untimely demise.

“The blade. Now.”

Something cool pressed to your chest and immediately forced a slight gasp out of you. Again, you began to tear up and pull at your restraints, although you had no idea what you would do if you happened to free yourself. The noises you had picked up on told you that there were more than two people there, and after so long without food or water, you'd never be able to take them. You were doomed one way or the other.

As the blade traveled downwards, it was made to puncture and rip the bodice of your dress. Another set of hands tugged the thin fabric to further open it, revealing your bare torso beneath it.

“Please! Don't do this!” You cried, now feeling shame from being so exposed.

How horrible was it that you were briefly only concerned about what your mother and father would say of this? They'd scold you, hissing words of how it wasn't very ‘lady like’ and that ‘no man would want you now’. You would be the ‘shamed whore’ of your village.

Before those thoughts could lead with any traction, the sound of faint chanting snapped you from your own thoughts. It started as a whispering and ever so slowly began working its way higher and higher with every repeated line. Unfortunately, you couldn't make out any of the words. It was possible that it was in another language, though also likely that your sobs took the forefront of the focus.

As the volume grew, so did your fear. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, a cool sweat forming across your chest and along the back of your neck. It was not being able to see what was happening that was also truly terrifying. Your captors had blind folded you after securing you down, this being the last time you saw any of their faces. It had been days of darkness - if not longer.

The chanting had started increasing in pace. Voices roared all around you and you could sense someone probably just within your reach (had your hands been free) but they had yet to do or say anything. You sobbed beneath your blindfold, the ropes holding you down rubbing your poor wrists raw from how you had been desperately trying to pull them free. They burned with every motion, and you were sure blood had been coating them since day one. Not that anyone around cared enough to take note.

“Please!” You yelled again, the single worded plea broken from your constant waterfall of tears. You swore you even heard another chuckle from right beside you.

“Send our love to the Dark Lord.”

A fierce pain punctuated his final statement as the blade ripped through your chest. You screamed in terror, just for the blade to be retrieved and then forced through skin, muscle, bone, again and again until you were nothing but a husk of who you had once been.

× × ×

Piercing eyes stared at you from across the long table, silently watching every move you made, no matter how small. You could feel the weight of his gaze despite having told him before how uncomfortable it made you - this had shocked him into a brief silence - but it obviously hadn't been important enough information for him to retain.

As you reached for your glass of wine, he did the same. His motions mirrored yours when you both took a swallow from the glass, followed by another, then another - the third being a mere test to see if he would or not.

“Stop.”

The demand left you with an irritated sigh, your wine glass then being loudly placed back to the table top. He chose to do the opposite, instead opting to lightly set his own glass down in a more respectable manner.

“Stop what?”

Your eyes narrowed at him, lips pressed tight together to showcase to him just how completely and utterly annoying he was. Ever since your arrival, he had done nothing but get under your skin day after day, night after night, second after second.

Maybe you really were in Hell.

“I'm going back to my quarters.”

You weren't going to do this with him again. It had become an every encounter sort of thing at this point - both of you engaging in an argument until you finally stomped off or he dismissed you before you ‘fell victim to his true nature’. How in the world were you supposed to live like this? For how long? Every time you’d yell this inquiry at him, he would only smile like he knew a secret you didn't.

Dropping your napkin to your plate, you were just about to push away from the table when his voice halted your every movement.

“Sit back down now. I haven't excused you.”

There was a sternness to his demand that you had yet to hear from him prior. It shook you to your core…in a way you hadn't expected.

There was a brief pause as you stared at him. You were silently debating with yourself as to whether or not you should listen, weighing the options. Since you had nowhere to go where he couldn't find you, you did as he requested.

“Maybe I've gone about this the wrong way. Maybe I've been too nice. Too lenient. Too patient. Since those approaches don't appear to be working, we're going to switch up to the way I prefer things.”

The man you knew as Noah slowly stood from his chair. Those eyes of his never broke from yours, not even as he placed his palms on the table top and leaned forward a bit to assert only an ounce of his dominance. You wanted to say it didn't make you want to cower in a corner, but it did.

Or maybe take your clothes off…

“You are here in my domain. Do you know what that means?”

Noah's eyebrows raised when he paused, though you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. He already had one of his own loaded and ready to go.

“It means I'm the fucking King and it would be in your best interest to not disobey me.”

You thought it would end there. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

But wait…what was this new sensation you were beginning to feel? It was warm and tingly…quite different from any you had experienced before, both when dead or alive.

“It doesn't matter to me that it's you. You are still required to make sure I remain pleased.”

This caught your curiosity and it showed in the way your own brows pulled together ever so slightly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you listen to m-”

“No, the first part.”

You could see the way his features softened when he realized what he had said. Was this one of those secrets he always seemed to be keeping from you? Obviously. The issue was that you had no clue what it meant.

“For the love of Go-!” Noah paused before he could get the entire saying out, his jaw clenching and face reddening as if it would truly pain him to say the words. With a deep exhale through his nose, he stood to his full height and raked his fingers roughly through his hair. He was frustrated, though something told you that it wasn't all because of your defiant behavior.

The anger he held was bubbling to the surface and forcing him to lose his composure. He growled as he latched onto the chair and sent it hurling to the ground, followed by the glass of wine he had previously been nursing. Both became shattered pieces that would be impossible to repair.

“Why do you not remember yet?! Is this some cruel joke you're playing on me? Is that it?!”

Before you could even blink he was in front of you. He had forced your chair out a bit, enough for him to wedge himself in front of it to prevent you from escaping. His tattooed hands firmly grasped at the arms of the chair, intense eyes level with your own.

You weren't frightened of him. You had endured the wrath of more vile men many times in the past, your father being one of them, so this temper tantrum of his did not register as a threat.

Plus, you were already dead. What more could he do to you?

“I need you to remember.”

These words were spoken in a much softer tone, almost like he was begging you. Pleading. The pain was clear in his eyes and for some reason this hurt you as well. Why did you care about his feelings? Why did you want to make him feel better? Never during any of your previous altercations had you felt this way.

“I'm sorry…I don't know how…I don't understand…”

Noah appeared crushed. You swore you could hear the sound of his heart breaking; that's how deep his emotions ran along his features. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his head bowed to keep his face hidden. The hands that had once been gripping the arms of the chair fell to your covered knees, now grasping tight to you in any way he could.

“Please…try for me? There's a part of you that would do anything for me, just as I would do for you.”

Although his words continued to confuse you, they didn't disturb you or make you uncomfortable as they previously had. There was even a fraction of you that believed him…which only made you want to try as he was requesting.

Maybe he could sense this, because you felt one of his hands fall and begin lightly tracing along your ankle. The other remained on your knee, still clutching tight.

“Close your eyes…will yourself to remember…I know you can.”

There was a flicker of something behind your closed eyes, almost like a thought. Maybe a memory. You weren't too sure because the scene clip was foreign and not anything you had ever experienced in your living life. All that was familiar within the abrupt flash were his eyes and the way they devoured you.

“That…what was that?”

Noah’s hand cradled your cheek, his touch immediately causing you to open your eyes and connect with his own. There was now a hopeful gleam within them, so much that you swore you even saw his lips threatening to turn up into a smile.

“Did you remember something? Tell me.”

All you could do was slowly shake your head. Even if you wanted to tell him what the brief image had been, you knew you wouldn't be able to put it into words. It was like trying to describe a color to someone that they would never see for themselves. An impossible task to say the least.

Without another word, you quickly pushed him away from you and stood from your chair. Noah was stunned by your actions but made no move to stop you from running away, not like you had expected him to. As you exited the dining room, all you heard behind you was the sound of more glass breaking and Noah’s pained yells.

× × ×

Sleep eventually took over you that night, though it hadn't come easy. To bring forth this needed unconsciousness, you had to think of the images from earlier and imagine what scenario it was attached to.

It took place in an unknown room, though you could assume this room was in the same domain you currently were held in. The decor was the same, the walls and lighting giving this away. It wasn't your current room, though, but somewhere a little more lived in. It was comfortable, if you were being honest. Almost as comfortable as the bed you were laid out over in this flash of images.

There was a warmth that accompanied them, one that you were only barely accustomed to. You had experienced it before during your living existence when you had hiked your dress up to your hips and buried your fingers between your thighs - these moments were fleeting and only happened enough times for you to count on one hand.

Although, it wasn't your hands that brought forth the unfamiliar but welcomed warmth this time, but something - someone - far more enticing.

A pleasure radiated throughout your entire being in a way that had your body trembling and your voice crying out for more. You had managed to open your eyes long enough to see his head between your spread thighs, decorated fingers holding tight to you to make sure you remained fully open for him, all while his mouth worked wonders in ways you didn't know possible.

“Noah!” You moaned and whimpered, his name on your lips only sending him into an excited frenzy. He groaned into you as his mouth secured around your clit, harshly sucking before soothing the nerves with swipes of his tongue that made your hips buck and your cunt clench in a desperate need to be filled.

“You're so perfect…” he breathed as he pulled back just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside of you. The sensation was heavenly, as ironic as that was, even more so when his long digits dipped and curled within your dripping wet warmth. Noah stroked along a spot that immediately had you gasping for air and gripping tight to the already tangled sheets your body had become well acquainted with. The mess of linens told you that you had been at this for a bit now, and it definitely wasn't his first time admiring you from below.

“Don't stop, please…” you begged, soft and gentle between your labored breathing.

Noah happily obliged, not that he had any plans on stopping until he was thoroughly satisfied with your amount of pleasure. His wicked mouth returned to your clit, tongue swirling and flicking in a way only the Devil could know how, while his fingers assisted in bringing you right to the edge.

If this was eternal damnation, then you would willingly devote the rest of your existence to it, to him.

Just a couple more firm strokes of his fingers and your body was tensing, a pressure building so high that it literally felt as if you were going to explode. And almost as soon as the thought passed your mind, your body released - literally and metaphorically. Moans heaved from you and your hips writhed beneath Noah’s form, a sudden wave of pure heat traveling through you and coating his fingers. The bed became soaked, though Noah seemed less than concerned about this. He hadn't even let up on pulling your clit between his lips and forcing his fingers harder within the collapsing and pulsing walls of your cunt.

You awoke from your slumber with a gasp, your body abruptly sitting up in bed. It took a moment for you to gather yourself, but you eventually noticed that you were alone and no longer in the room from your…dream? Memory? It was still so hard to say. As you made a motion to move, you felt a throb between your thighs, a deep pulsing just like the one your subconscious had just been experiencing.

You thought nothing of it at first, not until you stood from the bed only to realize the sheets, as well as your clothing, held a wet spot right where one could assume.

It only took a moment for you to change, though you left yourself bare beneath the sleeping gown with not even the top tied securely. There was no reason for you to waste time with it when there was one thing on your mind now.

After a few wrong turns and having to backtrack more than you'd like to admit, you finally stumbled upon the study where you knew Noah to spend the majority of his time. Sometimes you swore this domain liked to purposely switch up and change on you, just to make finding your intended location all the more difficult.

“Stop lingering,” his voice called out after you had stood outside the cracked door for far too long.

A small jolt in response to his voice being directed to you caused your heart to skip a beat, though you did as he said and gently pushed the study door open enough for you to slip through.

“How did you kno-”

“Nothing happens here without my knowledge of it. No matter how small or…private.”

That's when his eyes lifted to meet with you, they focused in on your hips first before slowly trailing up to your own gaze. Something gleamed within his stare, but it wasn't something you were yet capable of putting your finger on. All you knew was that it further stirred a sensation inside you.

“It's late,” Noah then pointed out as he leaned back in his chair, sights still locked on you.

You nodded in understanding, slow steps being taken closer to the desk he resided behind. Instead of stopping in front of it, you moved around the side and only paused once you were in front of him, just within arm’s reach. You could see Noah's chest inflate with a deep inhale, his eyes further darkening at the close proximity. Had his gaze even flickered down to where your hardened nipples were evident beneath the thin fabric of the dress you wore? You swore they had.

Speaking of your clothing…it was drastically different from what Noah always wore. His black on black suit wasn't like anything you were used to seeing, though your clothes were reminiscent of your time, unchanging from what you knew. How odd, you thought to yourself. This wasn't the time to ponder such things, though. It was just one more mystery added to the collection you were keeping note of.

“I had a dream,” you finally revealed. A hand hesitantly reached out so you could trail a finger slowly beneath his jaw, a simultaneous step closer to him also being taken. “At least…I think it was only a dream.”

“A memory, perhaps.” Noah spoke up, his eyebrows raised.

“Perhaps.” Your hand fell from his face and you swore you noticed a sadness quickly glaze over his eyes, almost as if he missed your touch already. Lucky for him, you had no intention of keeping your hands to yourself right then.

Delicate fingers clutched the fabric that covered your body, now being pulled up just enough so you could freely move while settling into Noah’s lap. Your knees straddled him and his hands moved to lay atop the bare skin of your thighs, almost like a reflex.

“Tell me what you remember.”

A slight shrug of your shoulder caused the gown to fall away, revealing more of your skin to him. His eyes followed the trail of your neck down your shoulder and to your chest, just as he reached up to further tug the fabric away in a gentle manner until the swell of your breasts were shown.

Noah had learned forward so he could slowly kiss along the bared skin of your chest. His hands traveled up the sides of your thighs, purposely pushing the hem of the dress up more, but not fully. He was then gripping your waist, slyly pulling your body even closer to his while his lips dipped between the valley of your breasts.

“It's mainly feelings that I remember, not necessarily specific moments…”

A question lingered at the tip of your tongue, one that you weren't really sure the meaning of. It was merely plaguing the back of your mind, leaving you curious for an answer that could possibly mean absolutely nothing to you.

“How…many times have I been here?”

The inquiry caused Noah to pause, his eyes flickering up to yours before he relayed an answer.

“This makes five. Five lives…five versions of you…and this you by far has been the most stubborn.”

This knowledge didn't frighten you like it would have mere hours ago. No, it actually made a bit of sense now, like the puzzle pieces were all slowly starting to come together.

“And each one is me?”

Noah hummed lightly, his lips returning to their trek along your chest. He was being much softer with you than you would've imagined, especially given the outburst you had witnessed from him earlier.

“Same body, same eyes, same markings…” he punctuated this with a slight bite to a prominent freckle that sat off to the side of your right breast. “Even the same name.”

“So…where are all of the previous versions of me at?”

A heavy sigh followed your question, his jaw clenched in obvious frustration. Having not yet answered, Noah swiftly picked you up and laid you down atop his desk after swiping the unnecessary items aside. There was a darkness in his eyes again, and you noticed that his previous soft caresses were becoming much more defined and needy. Witnessing this had your insides stirring, but in a way that made you thankful for wearing nothing more than your sleep gown.

“You’ve been taken from me.”

Noah’s voice was harsh, the words almost being hissed through gritted teeth. Apparently you had touched on a sore subject without even realizing it. But still, he began undressing himself as you laid beneath him, vulnerable and aching. Not even his growing anger was going to stop him from having you.

With his torso now bared to you, you took a moment to take in all of the permanent etchings that crowded his skin. You had never seen such things before, though you've heard tales of tattoos and these being described as the ‘mark of the Devil’. Clearly your time wasn't too far off, considering who you were currently in the company of.

A hand grabbed your face and forced you to look up at him as his body hovered over your own. Noah’s eyes were as intense as ever as he searched within yours, on a hunt for something.

“You aren't meant for this world but you are mine. I'll see to it that every death brings you to me. They can't stop me.”

They?

There was no chance for you to inquire about this because Noah’s mouth was then on yours, all hot and desperate. He kissed you like his life depended on it - funny enough - like you were the only thing that could breathe oxygen back into his lungs. And much to your own surprise, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity. His taste was addicting and familiar, one that you wanted to hold onto for as long as you could.

Even as he pulled back, you swiped your tongue along your lower lip simply to savor what remained.

One strong pull was all it took for Noah to rip the gown you wore straight down the middle, his eyes immediately drinking you in. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against your heated skin while flicking his tongue along the hardened bud before sinking his teeth in. You gasped at the slight pain, but the rise of your hips to grind against his let him know that you actually enjoyed it.

Noah smirked as he moved to your opposite nipple, displaying the same loving abuse to it. A warmth was pooling between your thighs and you were suddenly so eager for his touch that you didn't know what to do with yourself. Your hips continued to grind along his, desperate to feel any sort of relief, but the material of his pants were too soft and not at all what you were aching for.

“Not so defiant now, are you?” He taunted, his clothed hips firmly pressing into yours just to further rile you up.

“Look at you…desperate and whining…you must be remembering how good I can make you feel.”

Indeed you were, because never have you felt a need as strong as this before. Something in you knew just how mind blowing a climax at his hands could be and you wanted it now. You were so caught up in your own selfish needs that you hadn't even heard the sound of his belt coming off or the distinct ripple of the zipper being dragged down. When your eyes met with him again, he was fully naked and standing between your legs, slowly stroking along every inch of his hard cock.

“Fuck…the things you do to me,” he murmured to himself, heavily exhaling through his nose. You watched in awe as he continued to touch himself, his hips pushing forward to thrust into his hand, even as he rubbed the head of his cock down between your folds. Noah’s eyes closed and his head tossed back, reveling in the sensation of you being so wet for only him.

“Please…” you whimpered, your legs spreading more as if that would help entice him in. As much as you liked watching him get himself off, surprisingly enough, you were far too needy in that moment to have any bit of his stamina wasted on his hand.

Releasing the hold he had on his cock, he instead grabbed your calf and lifted your leg to his shoulder. His strong hands now held your hips, the tip of his cock pressed right to your entrance since he had produced the perfect angle after maneuvering your body around however he saw fit.

“You have to be a good girl and take it,” he instructed, his voice soothing but still holding an edge to it.

Noah pressed forward, allowing only the swollen head of his cock to stretch through your tight walls that hugged him just as close as he remembered.

“Say it.” He demanded, refusing to go any further until you had.

You shakily breathed out, your heart racing and blood pumping so fast that your cheeks were flushed a deep red already. “I'll be a good girl,” you repeated his words, nodding. “I'll take it, I promise.”

Happy with this, Noah thrusted forward in a swift motion that you had taking every inch he had to offer. Your tight pussy welcomed him into your depths with a constricting pulse that would've made him cum right then had he not had an eternity of practiced self control.

Noah deeply groaned, his jaw set and biceps flexed while holding you in place. Your own moans mixed with his, your body trembling in his grasp from just how intense it was to be fully filled by him. It was like nothing you had ever felt before…quite literally since your living existence had yet to experience the touch of another. You had only known a release at your own hands, which was nothing compared to this.

“That's it…” he cooed the familiar phrase as he began his rapid pace of driving his cock deep into you again and again, forcing moans and profanities never yet spoken from you each time. “You're always so good at taking it.”

Oh, how you wanted nothing more than to take all that he had to offer.

The stretch of your walls were so tight around him that you swore you could feel every engorged vein throbbing when he forced himself as deep as possible. Noah turned his head so he could kiss along your ankle, the grip he had on your calf tightening just before leaning forward a bit. It was a good thing you were pretty limber or else a cramp would've surely ruined the mood by now. Noah didn't seem concerned about this, though. He was far too focused on the shape of your lips as you cried out his name.

This angle had to have been created by this Devil himself though, because you could barely take a breath from how overpowering it was. You looked up at him with furrowed brows and nothing but silence as your breath caught in your throat. Every inch of your body tensed, though this had yet to cease his quickening thrusts. Your cunt felt too good, too warm, too tight, for him to let up now.

“Noah!” His name finally erupted from you again, just as an unexpected orgasm took charge. Your head tossed back and your hips arched up as much as possible, your pussy now gripping his cock like a vice. Your walls were so strong that you noticed he was finally beginning to break a sweat.

As the climax shook through your body, his motions began to slow before coming to a complete halt. He stared down at you, a fire in his eyes.

“Did I say you could cum?” The question was punctuated with a firm spank to the side of your thigh, a sting radiating outwards that you knew you'd be feeling for some time afterwards.

“Hadn't I just told you that you're meant to listen to me? That I'm the King and you do as I say?”

Noah had shifted your leg off his shoulder and pulled his hips back until he was no longer inside of you. The loss of connection made you whine and pout because one orgasm hadn't been enough. You desperately needed more.

“I couldn't stop it,” you explained while he forced you up, around, and then back down so the front of your body was pressed to the desk.

“You promised you were going to be a good girl.”

There was a bit of rustling from behind you, followed by the faint clink of metal that you recognized from his belt when he had been removing it not long ago. Your thighs pressed together in anticipation for whatever he had planned for you now since you knew that fleeting moment of softness from him was long gone.

“But good girls ask before they cum, and you didn't ask.” The sound of something moving quickly through the air garnered your attention, but a mere second later a sharp sting forced a yelp from you when the folded edge of his belt made contact with your ass. The pain shot right to your core, your cunt clenching eagerly around nothing.

Another crack rang out when the belt again collided with your tender ass cheek. You whimpered and writhed, your hands desperately trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing within reach on the desk. While it did hurt, and the pain only worsened with each spank, you still couldn't help but to crave more. Maybe it was because Noah was now rubbing his palm soothingly over the red and welted area, or maybe it was because you liked allowing him this power over you.

You held a power of your own over him as well, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Although now may have not been the time to bring that up.

“Look at how fucking wet you're getting from this,” he mused gleefully as his fingers dipped down to brush along your pussy. He gathered the wetness around his fingertips after sinking his digits into you, though he only graced you with a couple of pumps before their retreat.

Noah leaned over your body so his mouth was at your ear, his wet fingers forcing their way between your lips for you to obediently clean. Which you did without hesitation or complaint, even going so far as to moan softly at the taste of yourself.

“Now, are you going to be my good girl or do I need to punish you a bit more?” He whispered into your ear while lightly brushing your hair back from your face.

You could feel his hard cock between your thighs, teasing you with what you so badly wanted again. This assisted in you making up your mind, despite how much you enjoyed the punishment given.

“I'll be your good girl,” you promised once his fingers were pulled from your mouth.

Noah circled his strong hand around your jaw before placing a firm kiss to the side of your head. “That was the correct answer.”

Gently forcing your body back around to face his, he was careful to then set you on the edge of the desk. You winced at the weight being placed on your abused bottom, and it was only intensified when Noah purposely grasped the exact area, fingertips digging into the welts. There was no room for true pain when it was quickly overpowered by the euphoric sensation of him thrusting into you again.

Christ, if you weren't already dead then this man surely would've been the death of you.

Both hands squeezed your hips as he helped drag you along his cock, maneuvering your body in just the right way so he was hitting every spot inside of you that had you gasping for air. Your mind was occupied solely with thoughts of him, especially when taking in how he was gazing at you. It didn't matter that bits of his hair clung to his forehead with sweat or that you could barely take a breath without demanding that he fuck you harder, because Noah was still staring at you like you were the only thing in this entire melancholic universe that mattered.

“You're fucking amazing,” he grunted just as he pushed against your chest to lay you back on the desk again. This allowed him free reign to drive his cock at a maddening pace into your depths, his thrusts relentless to what your mere mortal body could handle.

Did it matter since you were already dead, though? Were you technically a mortal still? So many questions.

Your noises of ecstasy echoed through the study as your cunt throbbed around his twitching cock. The way Noah’s hips began to slow until he was taking long drags out of you, only to roughly thrust forward again, told you that he was close. You weren't sure how you knew, but you did. Just as you somehow knew other things little that would make him tick - both in good and bad ways.

“You look so beautiful like this.”

You couldn't help but to smile through your delightful torment, your body already so sensitive from your previous orgasm and all of the other things Noah had made you feel that night. From his unmatched stamina, so you could assume, to the pain of his belt across your ass that made your cunt clamp tighter around his cock just from thinking about it.

Noah must've noticed because he released a deep growl from his chest, his head now bowed and eyes closed as he continued his unforgiving thrusts.

“Oh!” You gasped the moment his palm pressed against your lower stomach and his thumb made contact with your clit. Your hips jerked and your thighs threatened to close, but his grip on the one only tightened to a harsh squeeze to keep you perfectly spread for him.

“You have to ask.” Noah reminded you, since he was well aware of what your reactions were pointing to.

Your eyes rolled back and your teeth sunk deep into your lower lip, breathless moans escaping one after the other, making it nearly impossible for you to say much of anything.

“Please!” You finally were able to pant out, a faint whine to follow. “Can I cum? Please?”

Noah smirked at your obedience. The sound of your begging only made him drive harder into your core, his thumb still working against your overly sensitive clit.

“Please please please,” the pleading continued in a faint whisper, this being all you could manage out now in a little chant of desperation.

Instead of voicing his approval, he merely gave a single nod just before planting both of his hands on the desk near your head. He was leaning over you now, his hips violently colliding with yours. Dark eyes focused down on your face and you immediately knew he wanted to watch up close as you fell apart for him again.

Your hands ran up his sides and back to clutch his shoulder blades, nails sinking harshly into his inked skin the moment your climax took over. Every inch of your body spasmed beneath his, your knees digging into his hips and nails dragging down his back in a way that made him sharply inhale in an almost hiss.

“Oh my go-!” The cry was nearly completed when his hand covered your mouth, preventing you from voicing the final word. Though this didn't stop you from moaning in a continuous yet muffled fashion as a wave rushed through your body and your cunt hungrily tried dragging in more of his cock.

“Fuck, you're doing so good,” he murmured in a low tone that had your insides melting and your orgasm freely flowing around him. “Fucking hell!”

Noah groaned as his thrusts became a little more sloppy before a final drive forward had him pausing as deep as possible inside of you. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed as he erupted, the vein in the side of his neck now more prominent. You couldn't help but to crane your neck forward just a bit in order to sink your teeth into it, bringing forth a moan from him directly into your ear.

Shivers traveled your body from the overly full feeling of him cumming inside of you and filling you to the brim, his arousal mixing with your own and overflowing. Still, your cunt continued to pulse and flutter around his cock, emptying him for all that he was worth. Your hips even rolled up into his again, purposely working yourself along his length simply because you could and because it felt so fucking good to have him stroking your g-spot, no matter how sensitive and spent your body was.

“I told you I could be a good girl,” you breathed against his neck while trailing your lips up in search of his. Noah chuckled into the kiss you eventually indulged him with, his brow finally relaxing now that you had stopped grinding into him and he could properly think.

Lifting his head after you parted from the kiss, he gazed down at you to admire how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed and a post-sex glow setting in. It was the first time he had seen you appear genuinely happy since your arrival, and while he of course wanted your body again and again, he also wanted to see that as often as he could.

“Don't think I've forgotten about how you acted at dinner.” His tone was serious only for a fleeting moment. Your eyes widened slightly, the welt on your ass pulsating as if to remind you of the punishments he could make you endure.

Noah cracked a faint grin before dragging his hand along the side of your face and claiming your lips once again. He was then standing to his full height and carefully pulling you to a sitting position along with him, where he slowly pulled himself out from your drenched core. A faint whimper escaped you, though you quickly covered it with a bite to your inner cheek.

“No need to worry about that now. I'll let you know when I'm coming to collect for your defiant behavior.”

Well, that surely made your pussy clench in eager anticipation.

Flexing and rolling his shoulders back, he muttered something about giving him a second and then scurried off, but not before making a quick turn back to kiss you again. As he disappeared, you took this moment to glance around the study. It was one of the many rooms you hadn't really been in before, Noah's bedroom included, because you always felt they were too personal for you to see.

And much to your own shock, Noah never entered your room either. At least you knew he could respect boundaries to a degree. But now? Well, now you weren't so sure what sort of boundaries remained for you two.

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted a hand to gently massage into the back of your neck, just as your eyes swept across the large bookcase that lined one side of the room. Something on one of the shelves immediately acquired your attention: a knife of sorts, a dagger, with rubies embedded in the handle. There was something very familiar about it, so much so that you found yourself slipping from the desk to make your way over to where it was displayed.

“I wasn't sure if you wanted to remain in the clothes you're used to, so I brought that and another option…” his voice grew quieter as it trailed off upon realization that you were no longer on the desk.

Noah's returning presence couldn't pry your eyes away from the dagger, nor could his soft demand for you to tell him what you were doing. Instead, you reached out to lightly trace along the sheath the dagger was housed in before ultimately picking it up and pulling it from the enclosure.

“What is this?”

Noah was by your side within seconds, his hand reaching for the item though you made an abrupt turn to step away from him.

“I need you to give me the dagger now…please. Then, maybe, we can discuss just what it is.”

There was a churning in your stomach and your heart was now beating so loud that you could hear it thumping within your ears. You recognized this dagger despite having only seen it for a few seconds after your captors all but dragged you to your death. A multitude of memories flashed before your sights of this dagger in particular, although in many different scenarios and situations.

Your eyes were pooling with tears as you finally looked up at him, both confusion and hurt written all across your face. It appeared as if Noah wanted to say something but he remained silent, his hand still outstretched like you were actually going to hand the item over to him.

“This was what was used to kill me, Noah. More than once. Why do you have it?”

#bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fan fiction #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #smut #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #smut with plot #god of death complex

128 notes · View notes

bluebellofbakerstreet · 5 months

Text

A-Z Sherlock Fan Fiction Tropes Bingo

Many thanks to @swissmissing for creating this bingo card! Because I'm like that, I decided to go for a blackout bingo! And because, even as I was typing these, I kept thinking of more wonderful fics that would fit the brief, I hope to fill in my bingo card again. Writers are amazing and deserve to be lauded, and I have left off so many amazing fics and authors. Besides, we all need fic recs. 💙

AU/Amnesia The Murder of Emory J Amat by chriscalledmesweetie. Sherlock and John in 1920's AgathaChristieLand. It's a WIP but is currently updating weekly. (52k, T)

BDSM/Bodyswap - Certain Skills by NoStraightLine. John expressly told Sherlock that if he stole his gun again he’d get the fucking he was asking for. Sherlock “Boundaries Are Boring” Holmes stole John’s gun. (3k, E)

Crossover/Crack - Repo Men by Anyawen. In which Mrs Turner's married ones are James Bond and Q. Q is kidnapped; everybody is a BAMF. (7k, G)

Domestic/Disability A Building of Bridges by pengke. Alternate first meeting. No one would ever send Sherlock in to defuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that’s exactly what happened. “Congratulations, Lestrade,” he called out sarcastically. “You’re traumatizing a war veteran.” (11k, G)

Established Relationship/Enemies to Lovers - Interview by bluebellofbakerstreet. In which the boys are in an 80's punk band, and are being interviewed by Rolling Stone. (2k, G)

Future/Fluff 50. Be You - No one Else Can by KittenKin. John's had a bad day and Sherlock doesn't know how to help. They both feel better at the end, and you will, too. (1k, G)

Gen/Genderswap - The Art of Communication by stillwaters01. Lestrade is receiving odd texts from Sherlock; he reads between the lines and brings help. (2k, T)

Historical/Humor - Acceptable Behavior by bbcatemysoul. Sherlock isn't really sure why John wants to shag him, but he's certain that if he's careful to behave properly about it, John can be persuaded to keep doing it. (3k, M)

Illness/imprisonment - Radioactive Trees in a Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor. Harrowing account of John's battle with mental health issues and addiction after - you know - everything. (280k, E)

Jealousy/Jilted - Hungry by LipstickDaddy. John can't figure out why Sherlock is being so nice to that new guy working with the yard. (7k, G)

Kids/Kink - The Alchemy of Sea Glass by reveling_in_mayhem. Salt and air and sand surrounded their little party of three. Crashing waves, gull cries, and the exhilarated exclamations of an excited three-year-old served as the soundtrack to a day filled with blue skies and bright sunshine. (22k, E)

Long/Love Triangle The Edinburgh Problem by snorklepie. “A nice holiday, just a bit more...murdery. ” John said drily. “Yes! The best kind of holiday!” Sherlock beamed. “So we won’t get bored!” (152k, E)

Magical Realism/Major Character Death Left by LifeonMars. John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible. (45k, M)

NSFW/Next Gen. Warzone by abundantlyqueer. Three smutty stories that pick up where the first two episodes left off. (13k, E)

Omegaverse/Only One Bed - Scars Don't Lie by CumberCurlyGirl. The prospect of going undercover as husbands to a couples retreat is just too enticing to refuse. (33k, M)

Parenthood/Platonic The Man With the Cartier Frames by JRow. Sherlock's top priority is The Work, just as it's always been ... in between trips to Putney to help with Rosie, collecting Rosie from school, and preparing for Rosie's sleepover at Baker Street. (32k, T)

Queer/Quest Dance With Me by TotallySilverGirl. Sherlock's queer quest for johnlock requires dancing, and some help from Sally Donovan. (28k, E)

Retirement/Road Trip - The Winter Garden by Callie4180. As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical. (31k, T)

Soulmates/Slow Burn Soul Mate by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. The words appeared on Mycroft's arm aged fourteen. He's now lived with the unfortunate words all his life, not certain that he even wishes to meet his soul mate if that's how the man talks. (4k, T)

Teen AU/Time Travel - The Curious Adventure of the Drs Watson by ShinySherlock. What if ACD Watson and BBC Watson switched places? (40k, M)

Undercover/Unrequited - Last Call at the Homesick Pub by Chryse. During the hiatus, Sherlock is both undercover and suffering from unrequited love. (3k, T)

Vampires/Villain POV - Nine Tenths of the Law by bendingsignpost. John knows what's his - of course he'll kill for it. (Modern vampire AU) (18k, M)

Whump/Werewolves When Your Belly’s in the Trench by Morgan_Stuart. The next time that door opens, John Watson will kill the person on the other side. (4k, T)

Xenomorphism/Xmas - Ghost Stories by SwissMiss. Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something. (22k, M)

Zombies/Zoomorphism - Aim for the Head by Breath4Soul. Sometimes you don't really find yourself until everything has ended.A fic about finding love, healing, and purpose after everything has gone to hell. Still a WIP, but worth it. (44k, M)

#fic recs #I reserve the right to interpret categories as I see fit #writers are amazing

65 notes · View notes

littlespacereader · 7 months

Note

Hiii!!! If requests are open I was wondering if you'd be willing to write some Caregiver Frank Castle Headcannons or a fic.

Completely fine if not!!! <333

Have an amazing day/afternoon/night!!!

@aew-kun-age-regression !! YES!!! It would be my honor and pleasure to write Caregiver Frank Castle!! After writing the Matt Murdock Headcannons and adding the small section at the end with Frank, I couldn’t help but want to write more about Frank as a Caregiver! He’s just so tough and broken that I feel like a Little would be just the thing to heal and help him🥹 It was such a hard choice but I decided to do Frank Castle Headcannons. But if you find some inspiration from this please send me another request and I’d happily write a fic around Frank! So here is Caregiver Frank Castle Headcannons! Please enjoy!!🥹💞

Caregiver Frank Castle Headcannons

Tw- violence, mentions of trauma and death.

Frank never expected to be your Caregiver. After everything that happened with his family, he thought he would just be alone for the rest of his life. That was until Y/N came into his life. You sort of adopted Frank and not vice versa.

Y/N was looking into some shady business going down in Hell’s Kitchen when they got wrapped into it and badly hurt. Frank saved them and brought them back to his home to tend to their injuries. But the injuries scared them so badly that they regressed once they felt safe and cared for in Frank’s home.

Frank, being no stranger to trauma responses and coping mechanisms, immediately understood what was happening. At first he was nervous, taking care of you as if you were made of glass, but then as the night went on he started to return to his old fatherly Caregiver self and he started to enjoy it.

After that night you asked Frank to be your Caregiver. He refused at first, not because of you but because of himself. He is so afraid he will hurt you or you’ll get hurt because of him. It’s not that he doesn’t want you, trust that he hasn’t felt as calm or at peace then when he was taking care of you, it’s because he’s traumatized.

But after asking, and asking, and asking over and over again, he finally breaks down and agrees. Now not only is Y/N happier and safer than ever but Frank is healing and becoming his old self again. He truly relaxes when he’s around his Little one. You see slowly but surely the old father side of him that was once locked away coming back to him in full swing.

Nickname wise he starts out with the standard kid or kiddo for Y/N as he start to get used to being a Caregiver again. But as time go on he really gets into the use of nicknames such as: Prince/Princess/Royalty (depending on your gender), his personal favorite troublemaker, sweet one and pumpkin.

Frank is a girldad for sure. What I mean by this is not that he is only for Femm little, no no no, what I mean is he isn’t one of those overly masculine men that’s afraid of showing his feminine side.

You want to have a tea party with him? He’s the guest of honor! Want to paint his nails? He hands you his hand. Want to play dress up? He’ll gladly wear a dress or a fancy tux. The point is, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for his little one. Even if it isn’t “something a manly man would do.” He could care less. For him it’s all about his little ones happiness.

Speaking of that, like most Caregivers he is completely open to his Littles needs. Diaper, pull-up, sippy cup, bottles, pacifiers, stuffies, ect. Whatever you want/need for your regression. He is all for it!

He keeps his life as the Punisher far away from his life with his little one. That’s the last thing he wants you tangled up in.

Y/N has to be patient with him because at times he can be very overprotective of them.

They rarely go out to the park, or beach or anything public. Not that he is afraid to be seen with you, he used to not be a bragger but now he is when it come to you. The fear of being out in public comes from his fear of someone hurting you while the two of you are out…just like what happened to his family.

Because of this you guys are homebodies. But Frank makes it fun! He makes elaborate pillow forts, special movie nights, drawing contest and crazy games of hide and seek in their home so that his little one is always entertained.

Frank LOVES art work from his Little one. Every photo to him is a work of art. It’s gotten so bad that the fridge is just a pile of papers now. “What’s this? Oh WOW! Look at this!! You did such a great job! I love it! It’s a masterpiece that deserves it’s time on the fridge don’t you think?”

Frank is on the stricter side when it comes to rules and such. He isn’t easily a pushover so it’s hard to convince him when he’s made his mind up…but that doesn’t stop you from trying though!

“Can I have another cookie?” “How many have you had already?” “Two.” “Yeah, two too many. You’re not having another before dinner. You just have to wait.” “But two isn’t a good number! Three is! See, two is even which is good but then the one extra cookie is good luck.” Frank just gives them a look. “I’ll wait till after dinner.” They sigh. “That’s what I thought.”

Frank…IS A CUDDLER! There’s nothing he enjoys more than to snuggle up on the couch, little one in his lap, and watch tv together. He loves the security of having them close to him at all times, but he also loves to cuddle.

At night, if they’re comfortable with it, he holds them close and they fall asleep resting their head in his chest. This helps ground him and allow him to fall asleep without the fears and anxiety that used to keep him awake. When he does have a nightmare, his little one helps him through it.

Aft first he was embarrassed and ashamed of himself for being so vulnerable after a nightmare. But he quickly learned that for as much as he does for his Little, they do the same if not more for him. He’s slowly working through his trauma and it’s because of Y/N.

When it comes to Frank’s friends…he doesn’t have many. He doesn’t trust most of the people in his life besides his little one. But there are a few he can trust and who he introduces Y/N too.

Karen is the first and she’s super kind and gentle. She’s extremely happy Frank has Y/N as she quickly sees a change in him, a very good change. She helps out when Y/N’s regressed and he needs to go out on a business call.

Matt was a bit of a shock to Frank as they started out enemies. But once Matt gained Frank’s trust, he became a close ally to Frank and his Little. Matt is also extremely kind and gentle. He loves to play with Y/N and is always sneaking them sweets behind Frank’s back.

Now if it wasn’t the reader being Frank’s Little, Matt or Karen would definitely his Littles. Karen is a bit older than Matt headspace wise but the two get along well! Matt is always snuggling next to Frank while he reads and Karen paints his nails. Again, he didn’t ask to be their Caregiver, but they just adopt him. And who was he to refuse?

78 notes · View notes

atomicladytimetravel · 1 year

Text

Desperate Housewife

Sequel to Hot for Teacher but can be read stand alone.

Summary: You’re constantly desperate for Joel’s touch, so you visit his office in the middle of the day. No outbreak au and Sarah is not mentioned. No use of y/n.

F masturbation, some sexting, sir!kink, cockwarming, creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex.

If you’ve ever seen Two and a Half Men, I pictured Joel’s assistant as the housekeeper, Berta, while I was writing her.

Word count: 3,214

You woke up slowly, your eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the sunlight filtering into the room. You stretched and reveled in the feeling of the plush sheets against your skin. You reached over to your nightstand and grabbed your phone to see what time it was - 10:17 am. You sighed happily. Ever since quitting your job and becoming Mrs. Miller, you’d been really living your best life. At first, you felt bad and refused to let Joel spoil you; it didn’t take long for him to change your mind. Now you lived like a princess and you loved it.

You settled back against the pillows and checked your notifications. You had a message waiting for you from Joel.

[8:05 AM] Joel: Good morning baby girl 😘 I hope you slept well. Had a good time this morning 😉 might have to do it again when I get home.

You smiled, remembering the quickie Joel had woken you up with earlier. The memory of him groaning in your ear as he pumped you full of cum aroused you all over again.

[10:21 AM] You: Morning babe 😘 might have to be sooner, I’m horny again. Come home for lunch?

[10:22 AM] Joel: Fuck princess…as much as I’d love to I’m swamped over here. Get your toy and make yourself feel good baby. Then I’ll take care of you when I get home.

You pouted at his message. Sure, the toy would feel good but nothing compared to Joel. You’d been insatiable the last few days though, so you decided to use the toy and hoped it would satisfy your need until Joel got home. You threw the covers back and opened the drawer on your nightstand to retrieve the rose shaped vibrator Joel bought you to use in his absence. You opened the camera on your phone and switched it to video, deciding to tease your husband a little.

You bunched your blush pink satin nightie around your waist and pulled the neckline down so that your tits spilled out over it. You started the video and panned the camera over your body to where your fingers were playing in the cum Joel left between your legs.

“Mmm, I wish you were here to fill me up again,” you pouted into the camera. “I love having your cum in me.”

You sent him the video and hoped he would see it soon. This would be a lot more fun if he was playing along. You smirked when you saw the video said “read 10:43”.

[10:44 AM] Joel: Good girls don’t pout. I already filled you up once today, but I guess my little cum slut needs more huh.

Oh god. Nothing turned you on more than when he talked to you like that. You clicked the button on the vibrator and put it to your clit. You let out a sigh as pleasure jolted through your body. You took a short video of your breathy moans as the vibrator sucked at your clit and sent it in response. You let yourself enjoy the sensation of the vibrator until your phone vibrated with another message.

[10:49 AM] Joel: [Video Attached] Baby girl you’re gonna be the death of me…

You eagerly clicked on the video. You hit play and saw Joel palming his hard on through his work slacks. You could see the outline of his hard cock and it made your mouth water.

“Don’t know what I’m gonna do with you princess. Told ya I was busy but you keep sending me dirty videos anyway. Got my cock fucking rock hard.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. Pleasure coiled in your stomach as you played the video again. You started another video and turned the speed up on the vibrator. You didn’t mean to moan as loud as you did but the new speed felt so good on your clit.

“I can’t help it. I need you so bad. This feels good but your cock would feel so much better.”

You sent the clip with a warning for him to turn his sound down. He responded with a sound clip.

“God damn baby, you’re a needy little thing lately. Make your pussy cum baby, I know you need it. Fuck, I’m so hard right now. Wish I was there to fill up that pretty pink pussy and give my baby what she needs. Send me a video when you cum princess. I wanna see what I do to ya.”

You listened to the message over and over until you were on the edge. You turned your camera on once more and turned the speed up on your vibrator again.

“Fuck, fuck, Joel I’m cumming,” you panted. You left the vibrator on your clit for as long as you could, prolonging your orgasm until your legs twitched. You sent the video and lay there panting as you awaited Joel’s response.

[11:07 AM] Joel: God fucking damn it baby. You’re so pretty. Show me your pussy.

You giggled. He ran a multi-million dollar construction business but you could make him drop everything for a glimpse of your pussy. You spread your pussy lips and took a picture of your glistening center. You sent it to Joel and he read it as soon as it delivered.

[11:09 AM] Joel: Fuck, some of my cum is still leaking from that desperate pussy. You got me wettin my boxers like a fuckin teenager.

[11:10 AM] You: You sure you can’t come home? ☹️

[11:15 AM] Joel: As much as I’d love to come home and bury myself in that pussy, I’ve got a lot of work to do. Be a good girl and don’t touch yourself anymore until I get home.

[11:15 AM] You: Fiiiiine.

[11:16 AM] Joel: Atta girl. I’ll take care of you later, don’t worry. Greedy thing.

[11:16 AM] You: You love it.

[11:20 AM] Joel: I do. And I love you ❤️

[11:21 AM] You: Love you more 😘

You did a few things around the house to distract yourself from the dull throb between your legs. After making sure the house was spotless, you checked the time. You groaned upon the realization that it was only 2:00. It would still be at least three hours before Joel came home. You simply were not going to make it that long.

You threw on a sundress and a tiny g-string, forgoing a bra, and drove yourself to Joel’s office. Several of his employees greeted you when you walked through the front door. You’d known most of them for years and considered them friends. Your favorite was Angie, Joel’s assistant. She was an older woman with no filter and zero fucks to give. She was also a lesbian who flirted with you shamelessly in front of her boss just to get a rise out of him.

“Hey Angie! Is Joel in his office?” you asked as you approached her desk.

“Hey hot stuff! Yeah, he’s been locked in there all day, grumpy as fuck. I’ll tell him you’re here.” She pressed a button on the phone to her right. “Joel, you’ve got a visitor.”

“Take a message, Angie, I have to get this shit done.” His voice was strained and frustrated.

“Okay, I’ll just tell your pretty little wife she can hang out with me then,” she replied, shooting you a wink. There was silence on Joel’s end, then his door opened up a few seconds later.

“You keep your hands off my wife, Angie,” he joked as he ushered you inside. After he closed and locked the door, he pulled you into a hug and smirked down at you.

“I’m pretty sure I already know the answer - but what are you doing here baby?”

“I need you,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. He tutted and shook his head.

“Couldn’t wait for me to get home huh? So needy. What if I said no?”

“You won’t. You’re already half hard.” You palmed his cock over his pants and felt it twitch in your hand.

“Hard not to be when you’ve got a hot little slut wife that wants to fuck all the time.” He reached under your dress and squeezed your ass cheek.

“How can I not when you make me feel so good?” You were kissing his neck and undoing his tie. “My pussy can’t get enough.”

“God, I love you,” he grinned.

Preparation was hardly necessary. Not only were you still wet from making yourself cum, but new arousal was dampening the clean panties you’d just put on. He led you to his desk and you watched as he unbuckled his belt and undid his slacks. He let them pool around his ankles before sitting in his chair. He stroked himself a couple of times before motioning you to him.

“Sit on it,” he instructed. “But don’t move.”

“Babyyyyy,” you pouted. He shook his head.

“Ten minutes. That’s your punishment for not waiting for me to get home like I told you to.”

You huffed in reply, but did as you were told. You turned so that your back was to him and he reached under your dress to pull your g-string to the side.

“That’s it, good girl,” he whispered in your ear as you sank down on him. He moved his chair closer to the desk. “Now just sit still while I finish this email. If you make it the whole ten minutes without moving, I’ll let you cum. If not, you can wait for me to get home. Understand?”

You whimpered in response, already in desperate need to feel him move.

“You’re a big girl, use your words,” he reminded you sternly.

“Yes sir, I understand,” you said.

“There ya go, good girl.” He pecked your cheek. You needed to cum badly, so you were as still as you could be. He rested his chin on your shoulder and his arms caged you in as he typed up an email. He placed little kisses to your neck and shoulder as he typed. It hadn’t even been five minutes when he hit send.

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praised as his left arm snaked around your waist. “Just a few more minutes.”

He read a few emails and his free hand teased your nipples over your dress. He used his middle finger to just barely circle your nipple before gently pinching it between his fingers. You were going absolutely insane. You were so full of him and you just wanted to move your hips so bad. Quiet, needy whimpers fell off your lips.

“I know baby, I know,” Joel soothed. “We’re almost there.”

When the ten minutes was up, Joel put his hand between your legs and touched your aching clit.

“You did such a good job baby,” he said in your ear. He started rubbing in circles and your head fell back onto his shoulder.

“Yeah that feels good, doesn’t it pretty baby?” he murmured in your ear.

“Yes sir,” you nodded.

“I know it does. Don’t know what’s gotten into you lately that you can’t wait to be touched.”

“I don’t know baby. I just need you so bad,” you whined.

“Shhh, you’ve got me sweet girl. I’m so deep in that little pussy right now.”

“Can I move?” you asked desperately.

“Turn around first,” he replied. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

You stood up and turned to face him before dropping back down on his cock.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Always so tight for me. Take what you need sweet thing.”

You began bouncing on him immediately. He put his hands on your hips to help you stay steady.

“Oh god that feels good,” you moaned quietly.

“Yeah? That needy pussy finally getting some relief?” he pouted, mocking your neediness.

“Yes sir,” you breathed. He reached up and pulled at the neckline of your dress so that your tits spilled out; they bounced in rhythm with your movements.

“God damn, I love watching your tits bounce in my face,” he groaned. He put one in his mouth and sucked. You pursed your lips to keep from making any loud sounds and you let out a breath through your nose. You rocked your hips faster, desperately chasing your release. His hands moved to your ass and squeezed roughly.

“That’s it, take it,” he said through gritted teeth. “Take what you want baby. Make my pretty pussy cum.”

You buried your face in his neck and he held you close to him as you bounced faster on his cock. You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm as he brushed your g-spot.

“Right there,” you panted into his skin. “Gonna make me cum.”

“Go ahead baby, let go. I know you need it princess.”

“Yes baby, I’m right there,” you whispered. He thrust up into you once and you came instantly, muffling your moans into his shoulder. He held you down on his cock as the orgasm wracked your body.

“I bet that felt so good, huh?” he asked, smoothing his hand over your hair. “You wanna give me another?”

“Fuuuck, yes sir,” you agreed, nodding your head. He stood the two of you up and sat you on the edge of his desk without ever slipping out of you. He put one hand on the small of your back to steady you while the other rubbed your clit slowly. He wasted no time pounding into you.

“I’m gonna fill up this little pussy,” he promised. “Wanna make you a mama so bad.”

“Oh god yes Joel,” you hummed. “Give me a baby.”

“Yeah? You wanna have my babies pretty mama?” he smiled.

“Fuck yes, put a baby in me,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum so fucking hard.”

“Me too baby,” he groaned. “Gonna fill you up so nice.”

You hooked your ankles around his back as he thrust into you fast and hard. You kissed him as another orgasm ripped through your body.

“I’m cumming baby,” you whispered against his lips. “Fuck, I’m cumming s-so hard.”

“Me too baby, here it comes,” he grunted. He made a strangled sound as he came forcefully inside you. He went still and held you tightly to his body. “Ohhh fuuuck, I’m pumping so much cum into your pussy. God damn.”

He stayed inside you for a few moments after he was finished, catching his breath. He pulled out slowly and his load instantly started leaking out.

“Jesus, I don’t know how I still had that much,” he marveled. He smiled proudly. “Be careful walking out of here.”

“I’ll do my best,” you laughed. “Thank you baby.”

“Anything for you princess,” he said, kissing you softly. You hopped off his desk and adjusted your tiny thong, wishing you had gone for something with a little more coverage now that you were stuffed full of cum.

“I guess I better let you get back to work. I’ll see you at home honey.” You gave him a lingering kiss.

“Okay baby, enjoy your day,” he smiled. He gave you a pat on the ass as you walked out.

“Bye Angie,” you giggled innocently as you passed her desk.

“Hey, wait,” she called. You turned and she gestured for you to come to her.

“You’ve got something…coming down your leg,” she whispered as you got close to her.

“Oh my god!!” you exclaimed in a hushed tone. She reached across her desk and pulled a tissue from its box and handed it to you.

“I’m so mortified,” you said as you wiped your leg. She laughed.

“You think I don’t know what was going on in there? I was born at night, but not last night.”

You slapped your hand over your face and your cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Angie,” you apologized. She just laughed and shrugged.

“I don’t care what he does, he owns this joint.”

“Fair point.” It was your turn to laugh. She leaned close to you and lowered her voice.

“Have you considered taking a pregnancy test? This is the fourth time this week you’ve come over here in the middle of the day for a play date.”

“Huh…,” you mulled over the thought for a moment. “I actually hadn’t thought of that. I guess I’m about to go find out! Don’t say anything to Joel.”

“Mum’s the word,” she promised.

“Thanks Angie! I’ll see you later.”

On your way home, you stopped by the drugstore and bought a box of pregnancy tests, choosing the one that had a rapid test and a digital test so you could be sure before you told Joel. You took the rapid test as soon as you got home and to your delight, it was positive. After drinking a lot of water, you took the digital test about an hour later. You burst into tears when it flashed “positive” across the display screen. You stashed the tests in the drawer of the coffee table in the living room and waited impatiently for Joel to get home.

He was slightly later than usual, but you really only had yourself to blame for that. You were waiting for him on the couch when he walked in.

“Hey baby,” he smiled. He leaned over the back of the couch to kiss you. You patted the seat next to you.

“C’mere, I’ve got to tell you a funny story.”

“Okay, lay it on me,” he said, taking a seat next to you.

“You might not think it’s funny at first but it gets good at the end,” you warned.

“Oh lord…okay, go ahead.”

“So I did my best to be careful leaving your office, but gravity was working against me. Angie stopped me and let me know I had something coming down my leg,” you started, using Angie’s innuendo.

“Nice,” he chuckled. “I’ll never hear the end of that.”

“Probably not,” you agreed before continuing. “She also gave me some good advice, which I took.”

You opened the coffee table drawer and grabbed the two tests, setting them on the table in front of him. He picked them up and stared at them wide eyed.

“We’re going to have a baby Joel.”

“Oh my god,” he whispered. He turned to you with tears in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you beamed. He pulled you into a hug and let out a happy sob.

“I can’t believe it. I’m so happy,” he blubbered. Listening to him cry made you cry and the two of you sat in the embrace crying together for a few minutes. Eventually, he pulled away and put a hand on your belly.

“You’re going to be such a wonderful mother,” he said softly. “I can’t wait to watch you carry our child.”

“Thank you Joel. You’re gonna be an amazing dad.”

“I’m gonna do my absolute best baby.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled you to his chest.

“So does this mean I can have dick whenever I want?” you asked with a smirk. He looked down at you with amusement.

“You get dick whenever you want it now; why would that change?”

“Touché,” you grinned. “God, I love you so much.”

His eyes met yours and he smiled softly.

“I love you more.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou series #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut

280 notes · View notes