#blue jackets wags

[writingonleaves]

inspired by jake debrusk’s gf, it’s giving clem not being able to make it to the first game of playoffs bc she’s literally working and then everyone being simultaneously disappointed but understanding, some asshole weirdo fans being like “she doesn’t support nico!!!!” and then a photo coming out (maybe on nicole’s story or some other wag) of clem and nico’s back as they’re walking out of the arena for the next game to shut everyone up ❤️ not that she or nico feel the need to do it. but yeah.

[puckgoss]

Group pic https://x.com/racheldoerrie/status/1783278919778468115?s=46&t=WIhc6WatFlSZidUnRWyOCw

boring as always......

[hearty-an0n]

here she is in all her beauty. i would pair this jacket with something light purple personally but also white pants would work really well

[taro-bae]

hiiii :3 can u do a can you make a fic with twst characters reacting if reader (fem or gn, idc) fall asleep in their's room? thank u! anon 🌲

Hii, thank you for the request! I'll split it up in year groups!

Twisted Wonderland - First Years

Summary: reacting to you falling asleep in their room

Characters: first years (no ortho)

CW/Notes: gn!reader, fluff, no warnings

Deuce Spade

Deuce walked into his room, coming to a stop when he saw someone lying in his bed. He notices that it's you immediately blushing, unable to move. The hest rising to his cheeks. He walks up to your silhouette carefully, not to wake you up. You are sleeping peacefully, and he doesn't want to disturb you. He's flustered but happy inside that you find his room comfortable enough to sleep in. He sits down on the chair that stands near a desk beside his bed. He quietly observed your face, how how look with your cheek flushed on his pillow. He thinks you look like an angle, that he must protect. He will not wake you up but will stay watching you, his fast heartbeat being the only audible thing in the room.

When you start to stir awake, he perks up, feeling a bit akward because he was staring at you the whole time. "H-hey, you're awake?" He says in a whipser. "Did you sleep alright?" He is still red in the cheeks, the tips of his ears heating up in contrast to his blue hair. "W-why are you in my room?" he asks curiously but doesn't actually mind you being here. You refused to get up still groggy from sleep, he decides to join you. Deuce keeps a respectful distance not to overstep your boundaries or comfort. But when he feels you cuddle into him, he melts. His heart is pounding in his chest, but he is in heaven.

Ace Trappola

Ace is a bit of an asshole. He walked into his room, taking off his jacket when he noticed you asleep. "Oi, what are you doing here?" He's shocked and secretly flustered that you are in his room right now. Ace approaches the bed, throwing the jacket onto his chair as he watches you with crossed arms, I'm his head he is thinking if he should wake you up or not. He waits until he calms down, making sure his blush is free from your sight.

He shakes your shoulder with one hand, "Don't you have your own bed to sleep in..." When you wake up and look at him, he has a subtle pout on his face trying to maintain a smug expression. "Did you miss me that much, huh?" He cannot go without teasing you even for a minute. "Move." He gets on the bed with you, throwing his arms over your shoulder other hand behind his head, trying to keep his cool.

Jack Howl

Jack returns after his track and field training, he's gotta keep that fitness up. His room is surrounded with weights and training equipment, as well as some protein powders. His beastman senses detected you before he opened the door to his room. His ears are perked up on his as his tail wags behind him subtlety. He walks into his room, all sweaty from working out, watching your peacefully sleeping silhouette. He does not want to bother you.

Instead, he let's you sleep seeing how worn out you must be. He leaves you be, going to take a shower and get changed. Don't let his serious demeanour fool you, he's full in his protective guard dog mode. He will watch over you sleeping, noting that you are vulnerable and blissfully unaware of your surroundings currently. Therefore, he must protect you. He is respectful of giving you your space, but if you invite him to join you, his tail will give away exactly how he's feeling. Cuddle him.

Epel Felmier

He walks in, tired from Vils nagging and beauty routines all day, letting out a yawn himself. He stops with a "what the-" when he finds you sleep on his bed. He sees that you are cuddling his poison apple plushie. "Yer really came 'ere?" He says mostly to himself as he approaches closer analysing your sleeping form. In his head he's wondering, "Did studying wear em out that much?"

Sebek Zigvolt

He's conflicted on what he should do. On one side, he wants to he that plushie in your hands. The masculine side of him wants to hold you and protect you from anything that comes your way. He sits down on the bed watching your face. He eventually gives in, lying beside you and holding you in his arms. He wants to feel like a man, and currently, he has the urge to hold you like you're his and his alone.

Might accidentally wake you up. He's loud.

Sebek finishes his day of classes and protecting Malleus. He comes into his room rather late. The only light source is a faint green light above the bed in his room. His initial reaction is defensive, he recognises a human form in his bed and instinctively yells out, "Who dares to be in here?!" Before realising it's actually you. In his head, he thinks, "hmph, i suppose they must be really tired if they chose to slumber here."

Sebek is very dutiful, he'll make it his mission to make sure you get enough sleep and rest well. He will stay on guard while you do, and he will consider it his training exercise. Occasionally, he will observe your face he can't help but feel fascinated and proud that you feel comfortable to fall asleep in his room.

[amirasainz]

I admit I read everything with baby Sainz in it.🫢 And as I'm on a Lando bender again. (Loving all things Lando) I was wondering if you could write something with Baby Sainz and Lando about how they got into a fight and the whole grid is there for her and being mean to Lando but like the fight was something really little and silly. (Something like Lando not putting his clothes away)

I hope that makes sense.

Oooppp!!!! That make me so happy to know that people enjoy reading my writing. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as well and let me know if you have any requests. I will do my best to write them ASAP

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Trouble in paradise

There were two things Lando hated dearly: fish and seeing his girlfriend cry. The first one is pretty self-explanatory. For him, fish tasted horrible and looked disgusting. It had a weird consistency and smelled—oh god, don’t get him started on the smell. The second thing, seeing his girlfriend cry, was because a beautiful girl like her should never have to feel any sadness. Her pretty eyes should never fill with tears, making the window to her soul more obvious than ever. Her perfect lips should never tremble, and her voice should never crack. Amira was made for being happy and carefree.

However, this morning, Lando managed to do the worst thing ever. He made his girl cry. And why? Because he is the biggest idiot on earth. The only thing she asked him yesterday was if he could start doing the laundry. Like the lovesick fool he is, he was more enamored with her presence than actually listening to her words. When she wanted to wear her favorite shirt today, which was in the laundry, Lando had to admit that he didn’t do anything. Maybe it was the current heat, her jet lag, her hunger, or the frustration that he didn’t do the simple task she asked him to do, but all of it was too much. And Amira tried to be brave, she really did. But she couldn’t help but let her frustration and sadness out through her tears. When Lando saw his girlfriend crying in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to cry himself. What kind of monster is he, making his perfect girlfriend cry because he was a lazy idiot?

The others around them immediately realized something was wrong when the couple arrived this morning in the paddock. Usually, Lando would have his arm around her shoulders, their hands intertwined, kissing her shamelessly in front of everyone and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. But today, they arrived with only their pinkies intertwined. Despite having a huge fight about something so silly this morning, the couple couldn’t stand not touching one another. If their unusual entrance wasn’t a huge sign that something was wrong, it was Amira’s behavior. Instead of wearing bright, vibrant colors, the young woman wore a black jacket with sunglasses on. Her blue shirt was the only speck of color in her outfit. If even THAT wasn’t a sign that something was amiss between them, it was on their way to the motorhomes. Instead of leading Amira proudly into his side of the garage, he brought her to the Ferrari garage. There, one could see Lando hugging Amira, whose shoulders shook. Without another word, Amira left a heartbroken Lando inside. One might have thought that something terrible had happened to his family, instead of him forgetting to do the laundry…

The news spread like wildfire that Amira and Lando had a fight because Lando couldn’t be trusted to do a simple task. The drivers and WAGs were furious when they heard about what happened. Carlos even went as far as keeping his sister inside his driver’s room, making her sleep and eat something. While Carlos was busy taking care of his precious sister, Lando had the worst day of his life. EVER.

It all started when he ran into Carmen and George. The couple were busy staring daggers at him while he was on his way to the media pen. Lando was so distracted by their glares that he didn’t see Lewis. He bumped straight into the 8-time world champion, who wasn’t very keen on seeing the young Brit. “Oh, sorry Lewis. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Lando apologized. Lewis looked him up and down before muttering, “Seems like you never mean to do something.” Before Lando had a chance to ask what he meant, Lewis turned around and walked away.

A confused Lando continued walking to the media pen. During the conference, he was asked about his outfit ( new Quadrant merch) when Max muttered loud enough for the microphones to pick up: “Must be nice to have clothes you can wear because you can rely on your partner.” The atmosphere in the room became strained in a matter of seconds. The reporter awkwardly tried to move on. Lando wasn’t stupid; he knew what this was. This was his punishment for upsetting the paddock princess.

After a 40-minute-long speech from Lily and Kika about how important giving and taking in a healthy relationship was, Fernando calling him “El mayor idiota que ha existido en la tierra,” Charles letting Leo bite him, Lily and Oscar giving him the biggest side-eye ever throughout the day, Yuki “accidentally” pushing him into a wall, and Pierre starting gossip about him, he finally went to Carlos’s driver’s room.

He gently knocked on the door, wishing it would be his girl opening it. Sadly, today was truly not his day, because he was met with the sight of an angry Carlos. Before Lando had the chance to say anything, Carlos brought him closer. He whispered quietly in Lando’s ear: “If Amira wasn’t so damn much in love with you, you would already be under the earth. I know where you live, I know your password, I know your deepest secrets. If you ever, and I mean ever, in your entire life make my sister cry again, it will be the last thing you’ll ever do. ¿He sido claro?” Carlos only let poor Lando go after he swore to never do something stupid like that again. “Good, now you will go inside, apologize to Amira, and buy her a new freaking Birkin bag. Did I make myself clear?” Carlos sternly asked.

Safe to say that Lando did a lot of groveling that day. It took the drivers and WAGs 5 months, 1 week, 28 days, and 17 hours to stop with the “Lando-fuck-up” jokes. And Amira? She never had to wonder about a thing again; they now had a housemaid, Aurelia, who only adored Amira and not Lando.

[zablife]

Hi was wondering if I could please ask for a smut Tommy request.

Where your the new barmaid of the garrison and during your shift the feelings for needing and wanting tommy grow and he has to make you his .

If that’s something you can write, understand if your super busy can easily wait

You're My Girl

Tommy x barmaid reader

Warnings: 🔞 smut

"Tommy, what are you doing down here?" you asked in surprise as you deposited the heavy crate in your arms.

"Thought you could use some help," he replied, shucking off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"You don't have to do that," you waved him off in gentle protest. "I'm nearly finished."

He lingered for a bit, watching you sweep the hair from your forehead and you smirked as you caught him out of the corner of your eye. "Was there something else?"

"I've been thinking about you all day. Had to come see ya," he admitted, a slight slur to his words from the celebratory drinks he'd consumed.

"I've been upstairs all night," you reminded him with a light-hearted giggle. "You should know, you've been watching that bar like a hawk. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous," you teased with a wag of your finger.

Tommy held your gaze as he closed the distance between you, his smoldering stare silencing you momentarily. You bit your lip as his large palm cupped your cheek, voice rumbling through the dark cellar. "M not jealous," came his soft, yet firm denial.

With a wanton sigh, you leaned your forehead against his, eyes slipping closed now that you could savor a moment alone. The memory of him stood protectively behind you earlier, hot breath fanning your neck and body slotted against yours as he helped you pour pints would have suggested otherwise.

"Everyone knows you're my girl," he declared, grazing a thumb over your cheek.

"Is that so?" you ventured, neither of you having put words to the flirtation that had been building for weeks. In truth you were going mad at the thought of fucking your handsome boss and wondered what might happen if you told him so. Gazing up at him through your lashes, you whispered enticingly, "Say you want me and I'm yours."

"Oh, I do," he promised. "All of you," he hummed, eyes roving your body hungrily.

"Then take me," you whispered against his lips, leaving a tender kiss against his chapped skin.

Your stomach fluttered with anticipation as he studied you, his bright blue irises giving way to the inky blackness of rapidly dilating pupils. "In a crowded pub? Naughty girl," he chided.

Before you could put on a convincing pout, Tommy caught you off guard, leaving you breathless as his fingers ghosted over your throat. "You'll have to be quiet for me," he warned in a dangerously low voice.

"And hide the fact that I'm all yours?" you mischievously challenged with a sultry arch of your brow.

"Unless you want to be interrupted as I do this," he commented nonchalantly, his free hand raising your skirt to your waist and revealing your bottom half to the cool night air. The moment he caught sight of your nakedness, an animalistic groan tore from his throat. "Fuck you look good like this," he rumbled.

Your head tipped back against the shelves, glass clinking quietly as Tommy guided your leg to rest upon his hip. With a warm exhale of breath and the swirl of his tongue along your collarbone, your heart began pounding in desire.

Taking that as his cue to continue, Tommy's thick fingers swept along your dewy folds, collecting your glistening wetness as he felt his own arousal growing by the second. His fingers stretching you open to pleasant fullness, your breathing became shallow and you confessed your growing need. "Please...," you begged in an incoherent mumble as he increased the pressure on your g-spot.

"Please, what?" he asked as though he had no idea the effect he had.

"Fuck me now," you panted as his thumb began circling your swollen bud. He grinned back at you as you arched for him, sending another wave of glasses teetering precariously. You barely noticed as your hand grappled for a hold against the ledge, knocking a bottle of whisky to the floor just as Tommy captured your mouth in a ravenous kiss.

Suddenly the door to the cellar opened and a stream of light shot past your feet, threatening to reveal your compromising position. "Y/n? What's taking so long?" Arthur's voice boomed into the quiet space.

You froze, unable to think of a lie as his footsteps began to thud down the stairs, your heart rate increasing to its rhythm. Suddenly he stopped, eyes following the trail of amber liquid seeping from behind the tall shelves. "What the fuck you doing, eh?"

Then as his eyes began to adjust in the dim light, he caught sight of a familiar jacket. "Is that you, Tom?" he ventured suspiciously.

Your head shot up, eyes darting frantically to Tommy as he hushed you softly. A devilish grin spread across his face as he withdrew his fingers from your pussy and slid them into your mouth, pressing against your tongue gently to silence you. "Y/n needed a bit of help. We're just finishing up," he called over his shoulder.

As the taste of your arousal coated your tongue and Tommy's stubbled cheek pressed kisses into your jawbone, you nearly forgot Arthur's presence. You were momentarily calmed, sucking softly at his digits, but the sound of Arthur's boots scuffing against the floor caused you to gurgle in frightened reply.

Mustache twitching with amusement, Arthur bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he attempted a peek at what he was certain was your bare thigh before Tommy's husky voice ordered, "Go back and enjoy the party, brother."

Arthur huffed out a laugh as he smoothed his hair back. "Yeah, alright, but watch the fucking whisky will ya?"

Free to continue your debauchery, the corners of your mouth curled into a wide smile. Tommy's fingers dropped from your lips with a trickle of saliva running down your chin in eager anticipation.

"We'll have to make this quick," Tommy whispered with a wink.

You gave a fierce nod as your fingers flew to his belt buckle, heat growing in your cheeks as your hand found his cock and began stroking him to hardness. He was even bigger than you imagined and a shot of electricity ran down your spine at the thought of having him inside you.

He didn't waste any time allowing you to daydream, however, the reality of the blissful moment you'd anticipated barreling toward you as he turned you to face the wall. His large hand pinned your wrists above your head as he pushed into you with a satisfied grunt, stilling when he'd bottomed out.

Despite your expectation for a quick fuck, he was surprisingly gentle with his first few thrusts, allowing you time to adjust to his size. Your head rolled to the side as he planted kisses between your shoulder blades, sending chills throughout your entire body.

As you shuddered beneath him, he relinquished your hands to roam your body to deliver even more pleasure, deft fingers sliding beneath the bodice of your dress to roll and pinch your sensitive nipples to stiff peaks.

Tommy strained to hear each shaky exhale and whimper from you, feeling the notes of your angelic voice course through his veins until they made his cock throb with need inside your fluttering walls. He enjoyed holding you there as long as he could have you, never wanting to let go.

However, you quickly grew impatient and began to push your ass back against him for more. "Harder," you urged feverishly.

He couldn't deny he was ready to snap himself, for his torture upon you was also his own. Soon his rough hands grasped your hips in a bruising hold. Nails leaving half crescent shaped marks in your delicate flesh, he began pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

Your hands grappled against the cold, concrete wall, bracing yourself as you lost yourself in a haze with each well placed thrust. The spark ignited in your belly only grew as Tommy guided your hand between your legs, murmuring words of encouragement. "Let go for me. Cum on my cock, sweetheart."

Under his spell, you felt your body begin to tense and shake. All promises of silence forgotten, you keened immodestly. "Tommy, Tommy!"

The shameless way you moaned his name sent Tommy over the edge as well, seating himself deep within you to spill his seed. You rode the powerful crest together, a light sheen of sweat coating your bodies in the afterglow.

When his movements stuttered to a halt behind you, Tommy pulled you against his chest in a snug embrace. The muscles of his forearms flexed to hold you up as he relished the last moments within your velvety warmth.

You turned to face him, hair falling over your eyes in disheveled glory. "That was incredible," he pronounced, leaning in for a languid, open mouth kiss.

"So you heard?" you quipped, brushing your nose against his playfully.

"I think all of Small Heath heard ya, love. Not one for rules, are ya?," he chuckled as he broke away from you to retrieve his clothes.

Smoothing your dress back into place, you grew tense at his words. "Does that mean we have to stop?" you ventured anxiously.

Tommy's fingers hovered over the buttons of his trousers, shaking his head softly. "I could listen to that every night," he confided.

"Well, you know where to find me," you concluded, turning away as a blush crept over your cheeks.

"I do," he said, pulling you toward him. "By my side. You're my girl now... announced it yourself," he pointed out with a proud, yet smug look.

You couldn't argue as you'd done exactly that and you held no regrets.

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

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[wileys-russo]

ignorance is bliss II l.williamson x reader

nah she's so fit i could actually die

ignorance is bliss II l.williamson x reader 2.9K words

"-can't wait to watch you spew doing laps tomorrow foordy!" you teased your australian teammate, the poor girl losing nearly every drinking game played had meant she was far from sober as she rolled her eyes and shoved you out the front door.

"oi! watch it skippy." your girlfriend scowled, hugging you protectively from behind and wagging a finger toward caitlin who mocked her sarcastically with a slur and flipped you both off before closing the door with a slam. 

avidly waving goodbye to the rest of the girls you heard leah gently remind you of the time as she grabbed your hand and lead you down the street to where her own car was parked. the blonde couldn't help but let a soft smile grow on her face as you swung your intertwined hands back and forth, chatting away to her as she merely hummed in response.

"such a gentlewoman." you grinned, your girlfriend always making sure to open the door for you, bowing goofily as you playfully shoved her head and slid into the car, clicking your belt in as leah closed your door and jogged around to the drivers side.

as she pulled away from the curb your hand rested on her leg, other one scrolling through your phone and smiling as beth sent you a dump of photos from the team bonding night you'd just attended, leah in her own world singing along quietly to the radio.

"baby you're speeding again." you glanced up and rolled your eyes noticing the blonde was doing 80 in a 60, clearly in an unnecessary rush to get back to your shared home. "its nearly eleven there's hardly anyone round, it's fine." leah shrugged it off as you sighed loudly, wordlessly letting her know you weren't impressed.

"you've only got two points left on your license! can you just slow down leah, please?" you took your hand off her leg and gave her a firm stare, the blonde purposefully not replying and instead continuing to sing along to the radio, though this time a little louder to try and ease the growing tension between the two of you.

you were doing well at ignoring your girlfriend until her hand squeezed at your upper thigh, the defender turning her head slightly and beginning to serenade you, rotating between squeezing your leg and poking at your cheek as she did.

you took your bottom lip between your teeth to try and stifle the smile which so badly wanted to spread across your face at her silly antics, but with leah belting out the last line of the song at the top of her lungs and wiggling in her seat you couldn't help but to let out a laugh and shake your head at her.

"made you laugh, loser." leah teased with a wink, holding her hand out expectantly over the middle console as you intertwined your fingers, but as you leant in to press a kiss to her cheek the flash of red and blue sirens behind you had the both of you recoiling in shock.

"oh fuck." leah mumbled under her breath, wincing as she quickly pulled over. "i told you! dick." you spat at her as leah gave you a firm warning look to be quiet and rolled down her window, smiling at the officer who wasted no time asking for her license.

"fuck!" leah swore again, punching her steering wheel angrily as the man walked off to do the checks needed. "right. i can get us out of this but i need you to stay quiet unless he asks you something and to trust me." you ordered firmly as you unzipped your jacket a little, leah giving you a strange look and opening her mouth but you waved her off as the officer returned.

"are you aware of why you've been stopped tonight?" he asked leah with a raised eyebrow, her license still in hand, and you were relieved to see he couldn't have been much older than thirty or so if that as you leant in a little closer to the window, purposefully exposing your plunging neckline just slightly. 

"we were just out for a late night drive sir, were we singing too loudly?" you pouted with a flirty smile, leah tensing beside you as the officer chuckled. "no your friend here was doing twenty over the legal limit, is there a reason we were in such a rush girls?" he asked, directing the question more toward you than leah.

"girlfr-" leah began to correct as you harshly pinched her leg and she hissed, shooting you a glare. "were we? oh god that's so embarrassing, we were just so into the music." you feigned innocence, burying your face in your hands with a groan, leah not missing the mans eyes drop down toward your chest as her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

"well mistakes happen, but that's also how accidents happen." the man warned and you nodded enthusiastically. "oh trust me we completely respect road safety sir. we might have just been in a slight rush because my friend has training tomorrow morning, she plays football for arsenal." you smiled charmingly, silently praying he was a local and your gamble paid off as he glanced toward leah, a brief look of surprise crossing his face before it once again turned placid.

"mm, good for her. wait here a second!" he ordered and with a nod disappeared back to his own car. "what the fuck was that?" your girlfriend seethed, rounding on you with a scowl as she leant in and quickly zipped your jacket back up. 

"that was me trying to save you from losing your license, because you didn't listen to me when i told you to stop speeding!" you whispered angrily, smacking at her shoulder with a cross frown.

but before the blonde could utter another word the officer had returned. "this is an infringement notice for speeding, it's a $311 fine. but i'm not going to register it as a proper offence so you won't lose any points or your license, but if i catch you speeding again i'll have this-" he paused to tap the top of leahs rather expensive car, only worsening her mood.

"-impounded and your license gone. understand?" he now directed his words towards leah who nodded and mumbled a thank you. "you girls get home safe now." he then smiled charmingly toward you, leah gripping the steering wheel even tighter before the man finally left, the police car pulling away and peeling off around a corner.

you readied yourself for your earlier argument to recommence but to your surprise leah simply tucked the fine away and turned the engine back on, carefully pulling away from the curb and continuing the drive back, refusing to even look at you.

"what time do we have to be at training tomorrow?" you asked, hoping a simple question might be the best way to break the thick silence which built up, almost suffocating. "leah?" you questioned, watching the blondes jaw tense but she still remained silent.

"are you seriously giving me the silent treatment right now?" you asked in disbelief, folding your arms over your chest and twisting your body to look directly at the blonde, who felt your eyes piercing into the side of her head but still, not a word.

"if i hadn't done that you'd not be driving home right now leah or for the next however many months, think about that!" you continued seriously, your irritation growing as your girlfriend scoffed quietly but otherwise said nothing.

"and for something as stupid as speeding." you spat, engrossing your attention back into your phone as leah turned the radio up, rolling her shoulders and neck as her sights never left the road in front of her.

the thick tension between the two of you only seemed to worsen throughout the duration of your ride home, and as leah pulled into the garage she couldn't get out of the car fast enough. you felt your stomach clench as the taller girl stormed off inside, making a firm point to slam the door after her.

with a tired exhale you sunk into your seat, tucking your knees into your chest and resting your chin on them. flicking aimlessly through your social medias you decided to give leah some space to hopefully cool off, feeling your own previous irritation begin to melt away as you did.

after around twenty minutes you felt your back starting to stiffen and finally slipped out of the car, closing the garage door where it had been left open and making your way inside. you heard the tv going as you followed the sound to the living room, seeing your girlfriend curled up on the furthest corner of the sofa, of course watching the golf.

"lee?" you called out softly, frowning as once again the english captain ignored you, eyes never even flickering away from the tv screen. "leah. come on baby please can we at least talk about this?" you attempted to sit beside her as the older girl suddenly swung her body around, her legs occupying the once free space instead.

"oh really?" you scoffed in disbelief, moving to stand directly in her eyeline as the girl simply looked through you, refusing to drop her stubborn behavior. "you are so fucking immature leah." you spat with a shake of your head, storming off into the kitchen and taking a seat at the island, head thumping down softly to rest on the cool marble of the counter top.

you let out a long and tired sigh, your eyes strained and begging for sleep as your body craved nothing more than to be curled up in bed with your blonde lover, betraying your mind which wanted nothing else than to slap the stubbornness right off her face.

you glanced up as you heard a noise, seeing leah rummaging through the fridge clearly looking for something. "top shelf at the back, to the left." you sighed, knowing exactly what she was after as the blonde plucked out a chocolate and wordlessly left the kitchen.

"you're welcome." you rolled your eyes and decided to follow her, beyond exhausted and having had just about enough of this by now. "leah, you're being stupid." you stated firmly, snatching the remote and flicking off the tv, the blonde rolling onto her back and looking up at the roof.

"i really don't see why you're so upset with me, if you had just listened and slowed down we wouldn't be in this position in the first place!" you huffed, throwing your hands in the air as once again leah ignored you, staring upward as if the ceiling was the most interesting thing in the world.

but as you looked at her properly, taking into note the way her eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched and there was just a slight hint of a pout on her lips, the penny dropped.

"oh my god you're not angry you're jealous!" you laughed, the way your girlfriend was quick to disagree only further proving your point. "leah really!" you shook your head, bounding over toward her and sitting down, your legs straddling hers as you grinned down at the moody blonde.

"get off." your girlfriend muttered quietly, crossing her arms over her chest as you attempted to hold her hand. "you can't seriously be jealous that i flashed a cute smile and played dumb to get you out of losing your license." you smiled in amusement, any previous annoyance completely gone as leah huffed.

"im not jealous." the older girl finally looked at you, propping her body up slightly more with a frown. 

"lee, baby. firstly; that police officer was a man! secondly; i did that for you! thirdly; i'm a little preoccupied being head over heels for a certain grumpy blonde defender to even pay anyone else a single thought." you promised with a smile, laying down on top of her.

"come on, stop being stroppy." you teased, poking at her as she smacked away your hands. "you told him we were friends. you said and i quote that your friend plays for arsenal!" your girlfriends face softened, a pout now replacing her once tense frown.

"well there wasn't much point in me flirting with him if he thought we were dating now was there? I also didn’t mention that I too play for arsenal, he could have figured it out and given you the full fine and offence!" you rolled your eyes as leah huffed slightly. 

"see you were flirting with him, i know that stupid little unzipping of the jacket trick." the taller girl rolled her eyes and your grin widened. "certainly worked on you didn't it?" you smiled smugly, hands cupping the captains face and gently tracing her jaw with your thumbs. 

"you are never again allowed to flirt with anyone that isn't me or katie!" leah warned sternly causing you to let out a laugh. "-and the only reason you're allowed to flirt with mccabe is because i know she's my best friend and wouldn't ever dare to go there, and the two of you only do it to wind up me and rue!" leah rolled her eyes, arms coming to wrap around you, sneaking up the back of your hoodie.

"mm absolutely correct and it works every damn time!" you hummed knowingly, dipping your head and peppering the older girls face everywhere with light kisses, your heart soaring as she laughed. 

“see this? what letter is this?” you tugged your necklace out from your collar, holding up the small golden L with a raise of your eyebrow. “an L.” leah mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “correct. and why would I be wearing a necklace with an L?” you questioned again.

“cause you’re a loser?” leah answered seriously and your eyes widened, hands removed from her body and moving to unclasp the chain. “okay okay! for leah.” your girlfriend stopped you, tugging your hands away and kissing your palms sweetly.

“exactly, because i love you. even if you are a frustratingly stubborn woman to deal with sometimes williamson." the words were accompanied with a playful eye roll.

"and i love you, even if you are an absolute handful to deal with pretty much all of the time." the blonde teased, moving a hand to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you down to capture your lips with hers.

"you know the best part about arguing with you?" the older girl mumbled into the kiss, and you squealed in surprise as the defender easily flipped your positions, hovering on top of you with a suggestive smirk.

"makeup sex."

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby

Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?

Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes

Length: uuuh long idk

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Strawberry milk is your favorite.

It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.

But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.

It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.

But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.

And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.

Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.

You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.

Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.

You can't do this, fuck that.

You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.

He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.

That is, until he smiles at you-

and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.

"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.

"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.

"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.

But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-

though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.

A smile that's just.. genuine.

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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.

"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.

As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.

"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.

"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.

"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.

"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.

"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?

"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.

"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."

"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.

"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."

"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.

"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-

and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.

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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.

"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.

"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.

"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.

"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.

And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.

"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-

That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.

He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.

"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.

"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.

"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.

"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.

Fuckboy? Relationship?

Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.

You're easy.

"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.

The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.

You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.

He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.

"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.

"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.

"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.

"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.

"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.

"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.

"Then that's your choice." He nods.

"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.

"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.

"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."

"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.

"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.

"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.

"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-

Eager to show you that he's the one for you.

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: kenji comes back for a jacket that he left—you linger by the door uncomfortably

content warning: implied manipulation, hurt/no comfort, angst, cursing and profanity

word count: 972 words

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006: tucked tail

How do you explain to your dogs that the guy who comes over and gives them treats every now and then isn’t coming back? You sigh and watch helplessly as Lassie and Strauber both wait by the door, whimpering, awaiting his arrival. Pressing the bridge of your nose, frustrated, you try once again to coax them away from the entrance, pulling on the bandana wrapped around their necks.

“Girls, it’s no use,” you beckon, “he’s not coming back.”

When all of the sudden, a shuffling, and the click and turn of the lock. The door opens—and Ken peeks his head inside. You frown, crossing your arms, suddenly defensive. The dogs’ tails wag at the sight of him, sitting patiently awaiting their treats. Like clockwork. 8.15 PM, Wednesday.

“I came for my stuff,” he says, allowing himself inside, handing you a plastic bag; it’s filled with dog treats. “Seemed like a waste if I just kept them in the house.”

You let them into the backyard, closing the door behind them, and watch as Ken makes his way into your bedroom, crouching by your bed and reaching underneath it to retrieve his blue leather jacket, adorned with patches of racing teams and whatnot. You remember taking in each and every embroidered design, trying to memorize it. You told him blue was his color. He laughed and said he hoped it was. It used to be my jersey’s color, he said.

Shame. What a shame.

He walks up to you and hands you a set of keys, the ones you had given him so that he could come by whenever he wanted. You should’ve known better when he only comes over whenever it was convenient for him. When he only comes over at night, sneaks out early in the morning to avoid the early rush and your neighbors. You enclose them in your palm and look up at him, he’s still wearing the same pained expression from a few nights ago—dark circles clung to the bottom of his eyes, alluding to sleepless nights spent tossing and turning. Good, you hope he drowned in that guilt, serves you right.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you scowl.

“Like what?”

“Like it’s my fault,” you say. “Don’t tell me you’re the victim in this. Don’t you dare.”

His face twists into an expression of offense; eyebrows furrowed and lips puckered. God his lips. Even in the light, a part of you wanted to reach out and forgive him, but something in your chest, thrumming and red, held you back from doing so. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to put on a look of defiance–signal you were brave, that you were angry, that you were going to stand your ground.

“Why do you always assume the worst out of people?” Ken asks, voice unexpectedly soft, “why are you assuming the worst out of me? You think I wanted this?”

You smack your lips together, both in surprise and annoyance. “I think you saw it coming and forgot to give me a heads up.”

“I didn’t forget,” he declares, chest puffing out and cheeks red, frustrated, “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”

“What good does hoping do Ken? Just face it, you knew we were doomed from the start and you lead me on because you knew you had nothing to lose,” you stepped forward, feeling a surge of confidence and boldness rise in you, “you used me. And you hurt me. And now you’re going to walk away and pretend that nothing’s happened because that’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“Don’t paint me like that,” he says, a glint of anger in his eyes. “Don’t paint me to be the villain because it suits your narrative.”

You gasp in mock surprise. “Painting you to be the villain? I’m just recounting the details of what happened Ken.”

“No,” he inches forward, fists balled up by his sides, “you’re spinning your own narrative to absolve you of your own guilt. It’s what you do isn’t it? You’re a writer after all.”

Fuck, the truth—and the audacity.

“And after this, you’ll type out some story about us and use it for your next bestseller,” he runs his fingers through his hair, closing in on you, “I get it now. I used to wonder why you were always telling me what to do, what not to do—don’t look at me like that, don’t say that—it’s because you like control. You don’t like me for me, you only like me for what I can be for you.”

“Don’t act like I forced you,” you snap, “you were the one begging, on your knees. You asked for me to treat you like that.”

“I did it because that’s the only part of me you would accept,” he says, and your heart squeezes a bit at this. “You only wanted me if I let you be in control.”

Both of you stand in front of each other, hands at your sides, almost in surrender. There is a look of hurt in Ken’s face—the same one plastered on your face that night, and on your face—the look of guilt plastered on his. The two of you were standing where the other was. Kenji near your vanity, you by the door. Maybe this was symbolic, the both of you, hurting each other—both lingering by the door uncomfortably. Now all that remained was the heaviness in your chest and the silence in the air. Ken walks past you, towards the door—you don’t stop him.

“That’s the thing I realized about you,” he says, hand on the handle, “you don’t want to be loved, you just want to be obeyed.”

You look at him. He looks at you too. The same look of realization. The same look of pain.

“That’s why you have dogs.”

prev | next

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author’s note: would you guys believe me if I told you guys that kenji’s last statement was actually the inspiration for the entire story; the first time I had read it I knew I wanted to create something out of it and I guess this was it 🤭🤭 anyways sorry for the false alarm guys I thought that we needed one more chapter before we moved onto the epilogue and closed the story for good 🫣🫣 honestly, writing the argument and all was easy, I’ve gotten it down in like 20 mins? The vivid flashbacks was what drew it out a little bit HAHAHAH 😭😭😭 either way I hope you guys enjoyed this one; I’ll see you guys in the epilogue🫵‼️‼️💥💥💥

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby-deactivated20240 @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic @lovingyeet @mythicalmo @yourfellowmarzipan @softdumplingposts @strayy-kidz @floppy-aura-koi

[prettyboysinmyheart]

could you write a blurb of Rempe seeing his girl wearing a wags playoff jacket for the first time?

a’s notes: Of course, I can love! I’m gonna pretend that the cropped leather jacket is their wag jacket. hope u like it 🤍

pairings: Matt rempe x fem!reader

warnings: kissing, dirty talk? mentions of sex and not proofread

As you stood in front of the mirror, you carefully touched up your makeup, reapplying mascara and a cherry-scented lipgloss that Matt adored. You wore a stylish cropped leather jacket with your 6’7 boyfriend’s last name, signature, and number proudly displayed on the back. Satisfied with your appearance, you made your way to the living room where you found Matt gathering his belongings before leaving for the arena.

The sound of your footsteps caused him to pause and appreciate the sight of you, his stunning girlfriend sporting a jacket emblazoned with his surname and number. He admired the way your luscious, curly brunette locks swayed with each step, the flattering fit of your light blue jeans accentuating your figure, and how the black heels added an effortless touch of elegance to your appearance.

Anxious and fidgety, you asked, 'Do I look okay, babe?' as you nervously played with the ends of your hair. You turned to face the mirror, checking your appearance once more.

Matt approached from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist. He gently kissed the side of your neck while staring intensely at you through the mirror. “My girl looks absolutely stunning. Fuck, how am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He whispered in your ear. Chills ran down your spine as he moved his lips to brush his lips against the side your ear making you close your eyes and breath hitch.

You quickly turned around and kissed his lips. “we’re gonna be late, Matty. Don’t start anything you can’t finish” you mumbled.

He rested his hands on your ass before firmly grasping it. “Just wait until tonight, baby. Can’t wait to be inside of you”

“I’m gonna kill you” Matt winked and smirked at you as he extended his hand for you to hold.

[gisellaaa]

overwhelming how much i am grateful; you are her own.

mb13 | mat requests that you and your daughter attend the home game for your daughters 4th birthday. somehow, mat conjures up the best birthday present for your daughter.

If you asked Amelia what she wanted for her birthday, it was to watch Mat play hockey. Not toys or books, she wanted to watch Mat play hockey. Amelia had watched him play on TV and always requested to go see him play in person.

The only thing keeping her from watching in person was you.

You and Mat had been dating for around a year by this point. A year filled with laughter and love. You appreciated the true feelings that were built in the relationship. The only thing that had not happened was you and Mat going public. Of course, it wasn’t that big of a deal. On social media, Mat was popular with the ladies. The thought of getting hateful messages from the media was lingering in your head.

But frankly, how could you say no to your daughter’s only birthday request?

You had met some of Mat’s friends before, along with their wives. In general, they were so kind to you. When some of the wags found out you were attending a game, they were ecstatic. They had invited you to join them to the pregame get together. Of course, you accepted.

“Are you gonna cheer me on, Milly?” Mat asked, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanging. 

Amelia had a bright smile on her face, digging her fork into the cake you had made. “Yes!” She replied, food falling out of her mouth.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” You reminded, leaning against the lip of the counter.

“It’s my birthday, don't get mad at me.” Amelia shook her finger at you, sassiness filling her tone.

Mat disappeared back into his bedroom, coming back with a box in his hands. You furrowed your brows, curious what was in the box. Amelia had already opened all her presents from you and Mat. So this last box raised some confusion in your brain.

“What’s this?” Amelia asked, pushing the plate forward towards you.

“Open it,” Mat stated, his eyes flickering between you and Amelia.

Amelia ripped open the box, staring at the blue and orange jersey in the box. Amelia pulled the item of clothing out. It was an Islanders jersey, on the back Barzal was etched into the fabric.

“It’s just like yours!” Amelia looked up to Mat with bright eyes. “Mommy, look! It’s just like dads!” 

“It is!” You watched as your daughter excitedly laid the jersey out on the table.

Amelia looked so happy while staring at the jersey. You noticed it immediately. It was such a hearty feeling to see Amelia joyous over a hockey jersey.

“Thank you! ThankyouThankyouThankyou!” Amelia looked at Mat, holding her arms out to him. 

Mat catched the hint, pulling the small girl out of the chair. Amelia tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, giddy of delight. Mat held the girl in his arms, placing a kiss to her head.

“You’re welcome,” Mat replied, putting her down on the ground. “I’ve got to go, you are meeting up with the other girls, right?” Mat asked, walking over to you.

“Yes, I am. Good luck, alright?” You smiled.

“I will-”

“Matty, you better play good! If you don’t, you won’t play with dolls with me for a week!” Amelia sternly told him, a serious look on her face.

“I will, Milly. Don’t you worry.” Mat replied, turning his attention back to you.

He placed a quick kiss on your lips before rushing out the door. Amelia had the jersey clutched in her hands, starting to dance around the kitchen of Mat’s house. You were watching her as you cleaned up her mess of cake. Amelia was continuously chanting, “I’m gonna be just like dad.” while parading around the room.

You quickly learned of her new name for Mat, still not necessarily knowing when it started. You just woke up one morning and heard Amelia call Mat ‘dad’. You were shocked, to say the least. More than shocked, you were thankful. It made you think of all the things that Mat had done to help you and Amelia.

It made you feel loved, finally learning what it was like to be treated well by a man. A lot of your previous insecurities fleeted away after Amelia called Mat dad. The insecurities being replaced by love and safety.

The other girls were piled into two cars, Amelia (unsafely) sitting on your lap. Emma, Anthony’s wife, was seated next to you. Emma was the WAG you were exceptionally close to. This was due to the fact that Anthony and Mat were close as well. You met Emma before any of the other wives and girlfriends. 

Emma was sweet and babysat Amelia a handful of times.

“We should get there when warm ups are starting, so we will go down to the boards first.” Emma informed the group of girls.

“I swear if they lose today, I will lose my mind. I’m tired of Adam coming home in a crappy mood.” Jen complained, physically face palming.

“Mat’s team better not lose.” Amelia grumbled, looking up at the girls. “Not on my birthday.”

The girls laughed. “I’m sure they will play better just for you, princess.” Jen smiled, patting Amelia’s head.

Once parked and inside, the arena was filled with fans. The Islanders were playing the Capitals tonight, Mat was sure they’d win. Jen led the girls to security, which led to them getting ushered down to the boards to avoid the crowd. Amelia clutched onto you tightly, nervous from the large number of people.

Amelia wore the jersey Mat gave her, a black long sleeve underneath to combat the cold. Amelia told everyone in the group about the jersey, always bringing it up. She was the top entertainment of the night for the group. 

You stood next to Jen, who pointed out where Anthony and Mat were. Amelia squealed, placing her hand against the glass. 

“There! Momma, there’s daddy!” Amelia cheered, pointing at Mat across the ice.

“I see, Mils.” You held her tight to your body. Though you refused to admit it, Amelia was getting bigger, so holding her for a long amount of time started to tire out your arms. “I’m gonna set you down, okay?”

You sat Amelia down, her head barely popping over the boards. Matt Martin skated over to Mat and Anthony, nudging them. Matt pointed over to you and Jen, leading to both boys skating over to the three.

“He’s coming over, mommy!” Amelia squealed, standing on her tiptoes to look over the boards.

Mat stopped before he collided with the boards, squatting down to look at Amelia. He held his hand against the glass, Amelia placing her hand on the opposite side.

“Better play good, daddy!” Amelia shouted, a bright smile on her face.

Mat let out a laugh, saying something inaudible before joining his team. You scooped Amelia back into your arms, following Jen back up to the main area of the arena. Security guards found you guys, leading the group up the box. Everyone got comfortable, chatting before the game started.

It was now nearing the end of the third period, Islanders leading 5-2. Mat had scored three goals so far, he was playing an amazing game. The girls kept commenting about how you were his good luck charm. 

In the last minute of the game, Mat scored his final goal. It clicked in your head quickly, four goals for Amelia. You noticed it quickly, watching as he played more aggressively on offense. He was making lots of attempts throughout the night, hoping to score as many goals as possible.

Amelia cheered for the goal, jumping around in front of the glass.

“That’s four! Four points!” Amelia cheered, clapping her hands. You took out your phone, recording a video of her excited reaction.

“Four goals for the big four year old!” Emma smiled, fist bumping Amelia.

The box erupted in cheers, you just taking a sip from your drink. The whole game, the smile on your face was never once erased. All your nerves about taking Amelia to a crowded arena filled with rowdy men seemed to cease to nothing.

The game ended, the Islanders winning 6-2. The girls waited in the box for another twenty minutes before going down to the tunnel. Most of the boys were leaving already. A few were stuck in the dressing room, doing media. Mat was one of them, considering he played one of his best games all season. 

Another ten minutes passed, Amelia starting to get grouchy. Soon enough, Mat exited the room, Amelia instantly perking up. She reached out of him, a cheesing smile plastered on her face. Mat took her into his arms, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You did so great!” Amelia smiled, pressing her hands against Mat’s red face. “You got four goals, Matty. I guess you can still play dolls with me.” Amelia leaned her head against Mat’s shoulder.

“You guess?” Mat let out a laugh. “Got four goals just for you, Milly.” 

Your face warmed at his words, your suspicions being quickly proven. You pulled out your phone, quickly snapping a picture of Mat and Amelia. You loved to capture little moments like this, always enjoying looking back at them. 

“Four goals for me? Oh! Cause I’m four now! You got them for me!” Amelia squealed, her excitement seeping from her small body. A yawn fell from her mouth, her mood quickly shifting. “I’m tired.” She mumbled.

You and Mat both let out a laugh. “Time to put the princess in bed.” You commented. “For sure, you guys are staying with me again tonight?” Mat asked, leading you out of the hallway. 

“Yes.”

By the time you guys got out to Mat’s car, Amelia was asleep in his arms. Mat safely buckled her into the carseat, tossing his bag into the trunk of the car. The radio was kept at a low volume as you guys drove home. 

Mat had his hand tightly clasped in yours.

“She wouldn’t shut up about you all night,” You spoke quietly, careful to not wake the sleeping girls.

“Is that right?” Mat raised his eyebrows, glancing at you quickly.

“Yup, every other word was your name.” You replied, your eyes fixated on the man. “She had a lot of fun.”

“Did you have fun?” Mat asked, his focus on the road in front of him.

“I did, you make it hard to not have fun.” You admitted, a small smile on your face. “The girls think I’m your good luck charm, they are silly.” You shook your head, a small laugh falling from your mouth.

“You are, baby. You give me a reason to play good,” Mat replied, causing a small blush to form on your face.

“Better keep me around for a while, so that you’ll always play good.” You playfully replied.

“I planned on keeping you around for a while.”

Your face glowed a bright red, though the dark atmosphere kept it hidden. Your body filled with the feeling you thought you’d never feel again. A feeling that had been long forgotten since you’ve been with Amelia’s biological father. After he left, you swore to never fall in love with someone. 

Then Mat showed up and he became your only exception.

[saistappen]

Dog park | CS55

In which Carlos and you meet again at the dog park and he asks you out on a date

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The weather was almost miraculous. It had been raining heavy for the last few days, so there hadn't been a single minute when you could leave the house without an umbrella.

But now all the dark clouds had disappeared, leaving the bright blue sky free and even the sun finally said hello again after its days-long break.

The sun's rays shining through your living room window and literally tickling the tip of your nose caused your mood to suddenly change by one hundred and eighty degrees.

You actually liked the rainy weather. Especially in autumn, when the leaves turned red and gold, covered the ground in a colorful carpet and it was slowly becoming time for hoodie weather again and you could get the coziest blanket out of the closet and snuggle up on the sofa.

But the days of rain, as it had been for the last week and a half, had been so bad for your mood that when your alarm clock woke you up in the morning and you heard the rain pattering on the roof, you would have liked to pull the covers over your head and just go back to sleep.

Now, however, the sun's rays were more or less giving you a boost of energy, which had been woefully lacking for the last week and a half.

Your golden retriever lady, who was lying in her basket in front of the window, also felt the sun's rays on her golden fur, so she lifted her head and looked at you curiously.

"How about we go for a walk in your favorite park, Laika? " You approached the dog directly as you kicked the laundry basket in front of you on the carpet.

There was a huge pile of laundry in the basket, waiting to be folded. However, you could leave the laundry lying around for a few more hours. After all, who knew how long the sun would stay?

Tail wagging, the dog rose from her basket and stretched once before running out of the living room.

You looked after the dog with a furrowed brow. It was not uncommon for Laika to leave her basket in the living room and go back upstairs to her bedroom, where she also had a basket so that she didn't have to sleep alone downstairs in the living room at night.

Before you ran after your dog, you switched off the TV, which was showing the last few minutes of an episode of Hawaii 5-0.

Watching TV while folding laundry had recently become your ritual, so that the annoying folding of the laundry went even faster than in silence.

"Laika?" You shouted as you left the living room and your feet carried you towards the hallway where the wooden staircase led upstairs.

The golden retriever lady was already at the front door with her collar and lead in her mouth. And when she spotted you, she started to turn in circles, wagging her tail.

Laika always did this when she was excited or looking forward to something.

"I see you're ready, huh? " Smiling, you ran your hand through the dog's thick fur before taking off her harness and lead and getting Laika ready for her walk.

A short time later, after you had slipped into a thin jacket and your shoes yourself, you left the house in the direction of the dog park.

The park wasn't too far from your house. The dog park offered a huge green area where the dogs could let off steam with each other or where you could take your dog for agility - the dog sport where you could work the dogs out with various obstacles.

As the dog started to realize where she was actually going with every step you took closer to the dog park, she began to wag her tail excitedly and pull slightly on the lead.

Laika loved going to the dog park, spending time with other dogs and getting a good workout.

You usually spent countless hours in the park, so every now and then you had a book with you and the dog lady would stretch her legs while you sat on a bench and read.

"Take it easy," you chuckled as Laika began to bark excitedly while you pushed open the gate that separated the dog park from the road.

From a distance, you could see countless dogs and their owners either playing with their dogs or chatting in groups.

You already knew one or two of them from your many visits. Among them was the Spaniard, Carlos, with whom you had already had countless conversations.

Laika in particular had fallen in love with Carlos' male dog Piñón, so that even now, when she spotted him, she started barking happily and looked up at you impatiently.

"Take it easy. You can go straight to your lover," you smiled as you let the gate fall into the lock behind you and then released the lead from the harness.

Within seconds, Lakai sprinted off and seemed to know exactly where Piñón was. It wasn't long before she spotted the male dog among all the other dogs and the two greeted each other.

"Hey y/n! " the Spaniard shouted from a bench as he raised his hand and began to wave almost frantically and the smile on his lips almost doubled in size.

A slight tingling sensation formed in your stomach as you walked along the narrow gravel path over to Carlos.

While all the other owners stood together in small groups and mostly talked about the training of their dogs or even bragged about the tricks their dogs could do, you and Carlos always kept to the background.

And so it was that the Spaniard joined you on his and Piñón's first visit to the dog park and you talked about everything except training your dogs.

Because it was really annoying to listen to strangers bouncing around with their dogs and always trying to give you tips and tricks on how to train your dog even better. And most of the time you were accused of training your dog wrong.

"Hey you," you smiled as you came to a halt in front of Carlos and the bench.

Without hesitation, the Spaniard stood up and pulled you into a warm hug to greet you.

" You must have been waiting for better weather too, huh? " he grinned after he had hugged you briefly and then let you go again.

"Yes, Laika stood outside the door whimpering almost every evening while she watched the rain..."

The Spaniard nodded sympathetically as you sat down next to each other on the bench and your eyes scanned the park for Laika and Piñón.

The two of them chased each other playfully across the green space, with one or two dogs joining in and playing together.

It was nice to see how carefree and happy your dog was finally able to play again after the prolonged rain meant she could only just get out for a walk.

"I can totally understand that! Piñón felt the same way. He didn't understand why it had been pouring like that the whole time. "

"Laika didn't either. She missed Piñón incredibly too," you smiled as you looked over at the Spaniard, whose brown eyes were on you.

Even when you first met here in the park, you had clearly sensed that there was something between you. A certain tension that made your heart beat a little faster every time you were near Carlos and caused a slight tingling sensation in your stomach.

"And what about Laika's Mistress? ", the Spaniard raked, while his knee began to touch yours lightly and a slight electric shock was instantly sent through your body.

Reflexively, your teeth dug into your lower lip as your hands began to play with the light blue leash.

The last time you had flirted was in high school, if you could even call it flirting. Because you'd never been really good at flirting, so now you didn't really know what the perfect answer to his question was.

"Me? I missed Piñón too," you giggled, even though you knew full well that the Spaniard wanted to know if you had missed him.

Because you had. During the countless rainy days, you had always found yourself thinking about Carlos and wondering what the Spaniard was doing and whether he was even thinking about you.

You raised your eyes cautiously and looked straight into Carlos' brown eyes. There was an amused smirk on his lips, while his eyes - like every time he looked at you - radiated warmth.

You had often observed Carlos in the presence of other women who were here at the dog park and had sought a conversation with Carlos.

He had had a conversation with each of them without turning them down, as it was out of the question for him to tell them directly that he wasn't interested.

Even their flirtatious looks and words left Carlos cold, as he only had eyes for you.

You were the only one in the park that he looked at so specially and with so much warmth in his eyes. And above all, you were the only one he actively sought to be close to.

You were special to him. You could sense that. And Carlos also sensed that he was special to you.

But neither of you had made the first move yet.

"You know very well that wasn't my question," he almost breathed, causing goose bumps to spread across the back of your neck.

It was really crazy what the words or closeness of another person could do to your own feelings or physical reactions.

As if your body and its own feelings were slipping away from you and pressing into the other's hands and entrusting them unconditionally.

"I-I... I missed you," you said, almost whispering, while you could clearly hear your voice beginning to tremble.

The heat rose in your cheeks within a few seconds, making you feel like you had a fever, your cheeks felt so hot.

Maybe you should be embarrassed that your body reacted like a teenager to a grown man. But it didn't really matter, because your body wasn't the only one reacting like a teenager in love in this situation.

Carlos' cheeks also turned a light shade of red, which looked really cute on him, so that a smile crept onto his lips.

"I missed you too," Carlos replied softly, causing the butterflies in your stomach to wake up and start flapping their wings, making your tummy tingle.

Smiling, you now sat there, simply enjoying the words and the warmth that each other radiated.

No further words needed to be spoken. Because you could both clearly feel how attracted you were to each other and that there was something between you that screamed more than just friendship.

It was crazy that you walked into a dog park just to see your dog playing and romping with other dogs and hadn't even come close to the idea of meeting someone you could fall head over heels in love with.

One person would probably find it rather cheesy, while another would talk about fate or great love.

But for you, it was just a coincidence. It was a coincidence that Carlos came to the dog park right here and that you two got on well right from the start and that you hit it off pretty quickly.

And it was a coincidence that your dogs got on well and that there was an intimate connection between the two of them.

"Can I ask you something? " Carlos broke the silence between you at some point, causing you to flinch slightly and take your eyes off your dogs to look back into his brown eyes.

And there was the warmth and a hint of security in his eyes again, which made you literally lose yourself in them.

Unable to speak, you just nodded while your heart skipped a little and you waited anxiously to see what Carlos would ask you.

"Would you make me the happiest person in the dog park by going on a date with me? "

[beansprean]

My Familiar's Ghost part 56

Masterpost

New pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up on ghost Guillermo, lit by orange candlelight, as he stares intently at something in front of him. His ghostly light and wraith cloak are flaring out around him, forming the spectral outline of hands that wind around subsequent panels. 1b. Close up of Beaver Nandor, bloody blouse wrapped tied his shoulders, staring blackly back as Guillermo's light creeps into the edges of his panel. 1c. Extreme closeup of Guillermo's eyes tightening - concentration with a desperate edge. The light flares wider. 1d. Extreme closeup of Beaverdor's eyes, blankly reflecting the light. The spectral hands that had been dancing around the panels reach into his now, gripping at either sides of his face.

2. Zoom out to Guillermo sitting in front of the table with Beaverdor as the candle flames suddenly flare straight up. Guillermo's wraith cloak flaps wildly behind his shoulders and his ghostly light swirls and wraps itself around them both. Light surges upwards and expands, memories of Nandor from Guillermo's POV filling the rest of the panel. Nandor flying down from the sky, holding a newly purchased pillow in one hand. Close up of Nandor placing his hand in Guillermo's to step into his coffin. Nandor fiddling his hands together, looking nervous as he sees Guillermo for the first time in a year. Nandor grinning conspiratorially and wagging his finger as they discuss the specifics of the djinn wish. Nandor glancing at Guillermo from the corner of his eye with a small smile. Nandor baring his throat without a hint of distrust as Guillermo ties his cravat. Nandor in his warrior armor, looking away as he expresses affection for Guillermo. Nandor in his Wellness Center outfit, straining against his seatbelt as he wrestles for the steering wheel. Nandor in his wedding attire, smiling gently as he lays Guillermo's jacket over him. Nandor in the attic, hair loose and stripped of all layers but a bathrobe, smiling with a fond shyness. Nandor in 2009, reaching out his hand with a job offer that would change them both forever. Nandor in the back garden, reaching out desperately with that same hand, a tear in his eye, thinking Guillermo was about to disappear.

3. Close up of ghost Guillermo from above on a background swirled with black and blue light. His head snaps back to look toward the ceiling, eyes wide as beams of light shoot out from them and pour upwards from his shoulders.

4. Empty blackness.

5. Empty blackness. /end ID

[danikamariewrites]

No One Left Behind

Xaden Riorson x f!Reader

A/n: I know the book has only been out for a few months but I was hoping there would be more FW fics. Xaden is my new favorite book bf so there might be more of these fics coming in the future. My requests are open so feel free to request any SJM or Fourth Wing character

Warnings: a few swear words lol

As the squad landed back in the flight field Xaden searched for your dragon, Cadmus, who was seemingly missing from the group. His brow furrows and heart rate starts to pick up. You just had to be a little behind, right? No that wasn’t like you, your speed was building and you were a faster flier than most in the squad.

Lately, Xaden had been taking the time to fly with each individual squad in Fourth Wing to make sure everyone was prepared for War Games. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

He dismounts Sgaeyl as Liam dismounts Deigh. Xaden shoots Liam a confused, angry look as to say ‘where is she?’ Liam shrugs looking around as if he could see you when Xaden couldn’t. His attention is ripped from his search for you when he hears laughter from the back of the group. Amon. And his stupid lackeys.

As soon as Xaden heard that little shits laugh he knew Amon had something to do with you not making it back to the flight field with the rest of the squad. Fury took over his entire body as he started stalking over to the boys. It took all of his restraint to keep his shadows reined in, so they wouldn’t strangle Amon. One of them had the sense to look uneasy about the whole situation as Xaden got closer.

Once Amon was within arms reach Xaden grabbed the fucker by the front of his flight jacket. Fuming, Xaden growled out, “You have one chance, just the one, to tell me where she is.” “I’m not sure-“ He raised his voice so the squad could hear, “As wingleader I’m giving you one shot! Cadet!” He spits out the last part emphasizing how below him Amon is.

“Y/n isn’t very good at evasive maneuvers,” the little shit had the audacity to smirk, “so I thought I’d help her practice. Gotta work on those rolls.” Xaden was fuming as he pushed Amon backwards into the two boys behind him. He pivoted on his heel, walking quickly back to Sgaeyl so he could fly back out to find you.

As he mounted Sgaeyl his mind was racing with all the horrible what ifs. What if you had fallen off Cadmus? What if Cadmus lost control and crashed, killing you both? No, he couldn’t think like that. It helps nothing if he thinks of the negative.

Flying fast and low over the vast mountains and forest of Basgiath, both Xaden and Sgaeyl were on the hunt for you.

After 20 minutes Xaden spotted Cadmus running through a break in a canopy of trees. “Down there!” He shouted to Sgaeyl. She swooped down into a clearing as Cadmus turned around. Xaden noticed you weren’t in the saddle. But, it seemed as though Cadmus was smiling and wagging his tail back and forth like a dog. It was then that Xaden saw the medium sized tree branch between his jaws.

“He says she’s a few feet behind us sitting under a tree. She is unharmed. Stupid dog.” Sgaeyl says only for Xaden to hear. He jumped from her scaly blue back clumsily, like he was dismounting for the first time.

“Y/N!” He yelled, voice echoing across the forest. He broke into a jog, finally seeing you exactly where Sgaeyl said you were. You were about to rise up from your shady spot when you saw Xaden come into view. He tilts his head back and lets out an exasperated sigh, with his hands on his hips.

He strides over to you. You look up at him, feigning innocence as he looks down at you. Annoyance contorting his perfect face, making the scar that cuts through his eyebrow crinkle in that cute way when he’s mad. “Are you serious? You had me scared shitless! I thought Amon killed you for gods sake!”

Guilt immediately rushed over your body. You didn’t mean to scare him like that. You just wanted to teach Amon a lesson to not fuck with you. “I didn’t mean to stay here this long, I’m sorry.” You stand taking his large hands off his hips and holding them in your tiny ones. “I was going to come back just a few minutes after the squad landed. Hopefully to you, Liam, Rhi, and Garrick scaring the shit out of him.”

Xaden leaned his forehead down to meet yours. “As funny as that would’ve been sweetheart, I’m going to ask you to never ever do something like this again.” You giggle, “I promise, baby. I’ll just have to think of something else.”

“You are going to be the death of me sweetheart.” He cups your face in both hands and leans in to kiss you. It was soft and sweet. You deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Before the kiss, and Xaden’s wandering hands, could go any farther you hear Cadmus huff and drop his tree branch.

Breaking apart Xaden shoots the red Daggertail, a look that would scare anyone. Lucky for you both Cadmus was unusually friendly for a dragon. He turns back to you, “So what’s the deal with him and the stick.” You purse your lips and look down sheepishly. “Fetch is his favorite game! Don’t judge.” You push his chest lightly. He grabs your wrist pulling you in for one more kiss before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“HEY!” You jokingly struggle against him. “Alright sweetheart, back on your dragon. We’ve been gone long enough and if Liam got to kill Amon before I could I’m gonna be pissed.” He puts you down next to Cadmus’ forelegs ruffling your hair.

You turn to give Cadmus an accusing look. “You were supposed to ask Deigh when they were almost back. What happened?” Cadmus huffs, “I forgot. In my defense, you were making fetch very fun this round.” He says in your head. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get going, you overgrown dog.”

[the-kr8tor]

...And The Deep Blue Sea

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Word count: 13.2k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW food mentions, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW gore, CW injury, CW guns.

A/N: it's the end.

Navigation

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

CHAPTER 15 >>>

“Hello, little birdy.” Mathias cackles like there's a pebble stuck in his throat.

He roams his sickly yellowed eyes at your body, sending shivers down your spine with every glance. “Or should I say Viscountess?” He laughs again. “You wear that gown well,” his eyes flick behind you, “Eugene, my boy!” The man beside you stiffens up. “Come get your bride and sit with me.” He drums at the table. “The Food is comin’, I heard that the bride and groom usually don't get to eat after everything is said and done. We don't want you to starve, ain't that right, lieutenant?”

The eye patched man standing in the corner nods slowly. His hands are neatly tucked behind his back like an obedient dog waiting for his master.

“You're alive?” You say breathlessly, teeth gritted, knuckles clenching tight on the skirt of your dress. Pulse rapidly thrumming, sending alarm bells to ring in your ear.

“‘course I am! No one can kill the king's flame, not even the red hydra,” he spits the name out. “or even a real fuckin' hydra.” Chuckling, scars mar his neck and hands, the only visible ones under his navy blue officer's uniform. It's still red and angry, you can tell some parts of it hasn't healed yet. You plan to add more, whether it's by your bare hands or a piece of cutlery; you're prepared to hit him where it hurts.

Numerous medals are on display on his jacket, shining under the sunlight filtering through the closed curtains. “Can you believe it? I go out to hunt the red hydra and I get myself a pretty bird.” He continues annoyingly, voice crackling, a dry cough escaping his pale mouth.

Mathias notices you still standing in the doorway, his eyes are dull, like a hurricane that's about to devastate a whole town. Eugene notices and he reaches for your arm to sit you down. You flinch away from his touch, eyes trained on the man before you.

“I said sit down!” Mathias’ booming voice rings out in the dining hall, his fist slamming on the table, champagne flutes fall over like dominoes with a harsh crack. “Fuckin’ grab her, Eugene! Don't be such a fuckin’ cock and grab her!”

“Y-yes uncle.” Your ‘fiance’ tentatively guides you towards the chair by your elbow, you brush off his touch, angry eyes gazing at his cowardly face.

Sitting down on the right side of Mathias, you intentionally choose a chair as far away from him as possible. But before you could sit, he clicks his tongue, finger wagging in front of his scarred face.

“Not there, gorgeous.” He pats the seat closest to him. “Right here.”

“No,” you stand your ground, shaking from anger, or is it fear that climbs in your stomach and crawls upwards to your quickening heart?

You refuse to get near the monster as Eugene stares across from you with anxiety in his eyes.

“Sit. Down.” Mathias enunciated, “or Lieutenant Dubois here will make you sit down.” Said uniformed man grunts, hazel eye roaming across the table, gaze boring a hole in between your twitching eyes. The sheath of his cutlass is engraved with tally marks among the ornate laurels and lions. “You already know what he'll do to you, he's quite amazing with a sharp object.”

“I am too.” You clench your jaw, still refusing to sit.

To your surprise, Mathias grins, a sickeningly hideous smile, teeth bared, tongue lapping at the gold in place of the fangs, lips wrinkling, he chuckles softly as something passes by his yellowed eyes.

“Sorry ‘bout that, you just reminded me so much of your father.” He leans on the back of his chair, hands gesturing towards you. “I literally saw him instead of you! It's fuckin' crazy innit?” He shoves Eugene by the shoulder, the viscount flinches, wincing at the ache. “Y’know, I recognized you— wait, lieutenant! Grab her and make her sit down! This story deserves to be listened to properly.”

“No!” You try to run back to the hallway, but the man is too fast for you. With the heavy skirt and weak leg, you didn't have a chance against him. “Motherfucker—!” With his arms around your torso, you kick and flail about, Mathias gives him a look and the man headbutts you from behind.

The room spins as he carries you towards the chair. The ceiling swirls, ears flooding with your rushing blood. With your muddled hearing, you swear you heard Eugene defend you, and you swear you heard a slap right after.

With a heavy thunk, the door closes behind you, your exit closes behind you. The only remaining door is across you, it's currently closed but you're sure it's unlocked judging by the draft coming from it. Head still aching, vision warbling, the one eyed man stands in front of the only exit.

“Now where was I?” Mathias continues like nothing happened. You glare at him through the corner of your eyes, your skin feels like spikes from the goosebumps rising above. “Ah, yes! I recognized you on the ship, before a literal myth came eating my crew. By the way, what the fuck was that, huh? Fuckin' weird, right?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You say weakly.

“Anywho, You looked a lot like your father but with your mother's beauty. I knew them, your father more so. Once upon a time he was my lieutenant, he was pretty good at it too. Too bad he had to disobey orders and marry above his station.”

“Why don't you ever shut up?” You lay your elbows on the table, arms flat, slyly covering the steak knife under your arm. “Are you a narcissist? Do you like hearing your own voice—?”

Mathias hurls a salad plate at your head. You dodge it in time before it shatters on the floor. You don't have time for this, you need to get to Hobie immediately, before it's too late. You have no plan, no weapons, but you'll be damned if you don't try. And you can still hear his screams echoing in your ears, as if he's already dead, as if he's already haunting you.

You need to try. Or it'll be your end too.

The monster before you clears his throat. “Don't be rude.” He points a finger at you.

You now notice how worse for wear he is, under the white paint and powdered wig lies injuries that haven't healed since the fight. You smell it, the herbs hastily smudged, and the rot in his flesh. It seeps into his bones, poisoning his body. You just wish it'll eat at him faster.

You're suddenly not afraid anymore.

“Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted. Your father, well, he fought a good fight on the Demeter. He stood his ground till the very end until a dozen or so bullets pierced his skin.”

The crescent in your palms gets deeper.

“He was smart though, smarter than you probably. You see, he rigged the ship to blow. He had the fuckin' balls to do it even though his entire family was inside. Ain't it funny—?” The double doors swing open.

The butler interrupts his speech, a handful of staff bring in an entire chicken at his plate. One pours him a glass of wine before he snatches the entire bottle and places it right next to his glass. Hot soup and meat pie is brought in also, the smell is appetizing but you place your hand over your plate wordlessly, telling them you're not hungry at the moment. How could you be when Mathias eats in front of you like he hasn't eaten in decades?

The tension is thicker than the cream placed in front of Eugene.

He munches loudly as he takes apart the roast. String of meat flies all over, the former white table cloth turns brown when he wipes his hands on it. Eugene spares you a look, eyes staring forlornly at his empty plate. His hand inching closer towards his goblet before deciding to just drink the ruby liquid.

You're on your own.

The wolves devour their fill whilst you plan your escape. Your mind screams for you to run, to run where no one can find you. The voice echoing in your ears is right at one thing, but you'll never hide anymore, not from Mathias, not from your past, not from anyone. You'd face it with fire in your veins just like your father had.

Mathias snorts, and you wish it was a choke. “He fought well, got a few of my men. How do you think the lieutenant here lost his eye?” He points at the stoic man using a half eaten chicken leg. “Your father was brilliant with a sword. A crack shot with a blunderbuss too. But, eh, it was all in vain. He shouldn't have messed with the crown and polite society.”

He continues to loudly eat, hands slick with oil, mouth full of meat. “You see, your mother was that fuckin' woman. Wealth, looks, title, she had it all. And the king wanted it too, greedy bastard he is.” There it is, the confession. But you still listen because you know something else will come after. “But your mum decided to run off and elope with the bastard son of an unpopular lord. The king was pissed off.”

Mathias laughs roughly. “But he got over it.”

Your eyes widened, but before you could hide it, the devil noticed.

“I knew you ain't as smart as your dear old dad.” He smiles, you can see the meat stuck in his golden teeth.

“He was the crowned prince,” Mathias rips open the chicken in half messily. “And he needed a wife from one of the big families.” He doused the meat in salt, “and the greedy fuck chose someone who didn't want him, just for the fun of it. Who could blame her, all he ever wanted was a brood of children to pass on his blood.” He takes a generous bite, teeth meeting flesh, the sound of his chewing makes you hasten your plan. “Thank fuck Frederick's father ain't as stupid as his son. That man sought out the opportunity when given to him and fuckin' took it. Too bad he didn't live long enough to see the fruit of his labour.”

Anger settles in your stomach, fury in your eyes and flesh, you want to damn him, and everyone involved. Especially her.

“It's her isn't it?” You say as you slither your hand towards the ceramic bowl. “The Queen, it was all her.”

Mathias smiles genuinely, “You finally got it, little bird!” He claps. “She's fuckin' brilliant, and so are her coffers. The pay,” he whistles out, “the pay was magnificent, still is by the way. I didn't even need to become an admiral for the money when I'm earning more than a fuckin’ duke.” Kicking Eugene under the table, he makes his godson choke on his drink. “See, I told you the little duchess here is just your type.”

His voice fuels your fury. Each vowel is grating in your ears, every wheezed breath he takes is a reminder that he still lives. A reminder that your knife isn't stuck in his throat.

“It ain't as bad as you think it is,” The navy man continues. “Married to my boy, you'd have a title, a home and a decent family. At least now you don't have mister Brown crawling all over you. He'd be dead by sundown, and I can't wait to see it.”

Mathias thinks his words would make you do something drastic that'll have his hands wrapped around your neck. But you've learned your lesson, so you bide your time, taking their attention away from your wandering hands.

“You're dying.” The heat from the bowl matches the fire in you. Your voice doesn't shake, nor your resolve. “Even with all the coin she gave you, you still can't save yourself. You are riddled with sepsis, I can smell it on you. A collapsed lung from the way you cough, and whatever the fuck disgusting shit you have in you. You are dying, rotting from the inside like how it's meant to be. And the world will be better off without you. They will forget you, first, your poor family, then your men, then the entire country. Even your bitch of a queen will forget you. Then the world. But Hobie will be remembered. His name will be etched in the annals of history while your name fades into obscurity.” You laugh humorlessly, teeth bared, eyes aflame. “And I can't wait to see it.”

He seethes in his seat, hand clenching around the cutlery. The devil doesn't show his anger bluntly this time, he hides it because you struck a nerve. With a grin, you promise to Hobie and to your parents that Mathias won't live to see the day end.

“Do you remember what I told you in the revenge?” You continue with a smile that sends shivers down the spine of everyone in the room. The quiet lieutenant remembers the day he lost his eye. “I intend to fulfill that promise.”

Through a clenched jaw, he coughs again, hiding his weakness from everyone in the room and how a drop of blood stains his pale lips. “I love it when women show me their claws. But I can't stay. I would love to see the ceremony and the festivities, but I can't miss the execution. That's why I came here earlier so I could pass on my blessings.” Mathias wipes his mouth clean harshly. “If you'd excuse me, I places to be—”

Before he could stand up, you quickly fling the bowl right on his painted face. The hot soup splashes on his skin, melting the white powder off his face. With his guttural scream, within a split second before his man could intervene, you take the steak knife and plunge it into his hand and into the table.

The screams he let out was music to your ears, holding the hilt of the weapon, you twist it before yanking it out of his flesh, tearing his hand in half, ripping the nerves and letting waterfalls of crimson into the white tablecloth. With a determined yell, you aim for his throat.

Mathias recovers a second before steel meets his skin, he backhands you with the same injured hand. The knife falls off your hand. Pain blooms on your face, and you go blind as your head hits the floor. His blood dirties your pristine white gown, splotches of red drenching the bodice.

Your left eye stings, cheek heated from the harsh slap. Despite your lungs gasping for air through your possible broken nose, you crawl over to Mathias. Your scorn drives you to grab his leg, pulling him down with a strong tug, he falls hard on his back, splitting the floorboards in half. Taking the crown off your head, you use the pointy end to stab his leg and his knee in quick succession. He yells and yells but you don't stop. The ichor from his wounds drenches your face and hands, you see red, and you see his untimely death in your blood soaked hands.

Climbing further up, you use the opportunity to aim at his groin. But a pair of arms stops you before you could hit your mark. Thrashing, slashing the hands around your shoulders, you mark the man with the same bloodied tiara.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” Mathias stands up, limping, he unsheathes his lieutenant’s cutlass from his hip. With a stomp over your thigh, he pushes in the heel of his boot as you let out a cry. The steel is pointed at your heart, his eyes demand blood for blood. “I should've just killed you instead—”

A shot rings out, the bullet hits the blade, breaking it in half. Mathias flinches before he smiles at the one who shot him. There on the opposite doors, stands Miguel O’hara with his gun raised, barrel aimed at his former comrade. Lyla stands next to him, her own blunderbuss raised towards the man holding on to you.

“Let her go and there won't be any more bullets flying around.” Miguel's voice is steady, back straight, eyes flicking over to you writhing on the floor.

“You better listen, cyclops, O’hara here might hesitate but I won't. Let our girl go.” Lyla reassures you with a nod, and you bite your captor's hand.

You tear his flesh open with your teeth, ichor filling your mouth as he hisses in pain, dropping you unceremoniously on the floor.

Mathias looks at you with wide eyes, disbelief in his burned face. “I guess you learned a thing or two from your man.”

You spit out the chunk of flesh whilst your eyes never leave his. Crimson dripping off your lips like rain, teeth the same colour as the wine spilled on the table, you smile at him.

“Come near me and I'll show you what else he taught me.”

The man before you laughs genuinely, yet his eyes never leave yours, making sure you stay away from him. You're more than ready to close the gap. The cutlass is still trained on you, you're about to pounce when Miguel calls your name with urgency. As if he can read your mind.

“Your girl is fuckin' insane ain't she?” Mathias addresses Miguel, like how a family member speaks about a niece he hasn't seen in years. Proud, there's a sense of pride laced in his tone. “Just like her dear old parents, eh?”

“I'm warning you, Mathias.” Miguel keeps an eye out for the uniformed man behind you. “Take your captain, Alexander, before I put a bullet in his heart.”

Mathias scoffs, legs shaking from the wounds you caused. “Please, you'd shoot me? You didn't have the balls back then, why would you do it now?”

Miguel raises his gun higher, aiming for the man's head. “Because she wasn't there,” he cocks his head towards you, “you didn't have a weapon aimed directly at my goddaughter.” Eyebrows knitted together in anger, his hand doesn't shake, eyes glowing red in the sunlight. “Now let her go.”

Mathias posture sags, “fine, but only because I've got an event I cannot miss.” He nods at his godson. “Make sure you're married to her by the end of the day or there will be consequences.” He clicks his tongue, Eugene melts into his chair, face turned away from you and his godfather.

Mathias gives you one last look. “Happy marriage, birdy.”

“You're going to die today Mathias, one way or another I'll get my hands on you.” You flick your eyes towards the man clutching his hand. “Death is coming for you too,” you say nonchalantly. “I'll finish what my father started.”

They leave with their fronts turned to you, not even twisting around to show you their backs that are susceptible to your attack. Or in this case, your teeth.

Lyla appears next to you, helping you by the crook of your arm. Pain lingers on your leg and face. “Christ, he burst your fucking capillaries.”

Sure enough, you feel the sting in your eye, a throbbing pain that leaves you nauseous. Miguel, tentatively closes the distance, weathered hand carefully holding your chin. You wince, as he moves your face.

“Fuck, you need to see a doctor.” He says whilst you flinch away from his touch.

“I'm alright, I need a horse.” You begin to walk away, Miguel and Lyla follow close behind you. “And I need my fucking knife.” I need him back, your mind whispers to you. “I need to save him.”

“His execution is in two hours.” Eugene says meekly, and you stop in your tracks. “I heard the officers talk, they're not going to hang him for his crimes, the crown gave him the ax.”

With quick steps, you take Eugene by his collar, gripping tightly as you spill venom. Miguel tries to hold you back but you blindly kick his leg.

“Delay them.”

“I can't—”

“Do you want to be under his boot your entire life? If we marry I'll be crushed with you,” You stare determinedly at his scared eyes. “because that will happen if you don't help. You said you cared about me, then help me and all will be forgiven. Please, you're a viscount, you have the means to help.”

He sniffs, lips curled into a frown. “I'm sorry, I-I can't—”

You scoff, letting him go. “If I fail, Mathias lives and that means you'd be dead too.” Walking away, leaving him cowering in his seat, your small entourage follows.

“Where are you going?” Miguel matches your stride, walking next to you, he stares with concern. “Y/N, where are you going?”

“To my room to pamper my nose.” With adrenaline coursing through you, his face flashes in your mind with every step. Save him, your mind yells, save him, save him, or it'll be the end for you too.

“Cousin?” Collette asks as you make your way towards the apartments where your chambers lie. She roams her worried eyes around your bloodied wedding gown, her hands that are clutching a bouquet of flowers shakes. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I stabbed Mathias and bit through a man's hand.” You say without stopping, she squeaks in place.

John stops in his tracks, “w-what the fuck happened?” The twins are both dressed to the nines, all fine fabrics and hair all made up. “Cousin!” He calls after you whilst you don't stop for anyone.

“Thanks for the hot tip, kids!” Lyla yells back to your cousins. “A bit of advice, tell the catering staff the wedding’s off!” She cackles. “Save me a macaroon though!”

“They called you?” You ask, your heeled feet ache but you press on. “Where were you Lyla?”

“I'm sorry, duchess, I overslept.” She shrugs. “But I'm here now ain't I? Also I got Miguel here so...”

“You should stop, Y/N.” Miguel says sternly. “You're hurt—”

“No.”

“Y/N.”

You whirl around to face him. Anger flares up once again. “You should've shot him where he stood.” You poke his sturdy chest roughly. “He's the one who killed them, yet you let him get away!”

“I know, I— there are repercussions to killing someone. Especially if they're an officer.” He falters but he composes himself. “Revenge is not the answer—”

“He killed them, Miguel!” Your broken voice echoes out into the vast hallway. “Him and the queen are the reason why they're dead, and you let him get away so he could kill Hobie.”

“It was the queen? Not—”

“Yes, not the idiot king.” You turn around to continue your trek. You curse the large estate. “I have no idea why she did it, but I'm gonna get her too. But I won't live to see that day if I don't save him.” Your tone falters as you pass by your mother's portrait. “I need to save him, even if it's the last thing I do.”

“You won't succeed.” Miguel stands in front of you to stop you, and you roll your eyes, wanting to kick him in the groin. “He's a pirate, Y/N, he won't do the same for you.”

“He has, and he would. I need to try, I can't let him die.” You choke back a sob. Reality crashes around you. What would you do once you get there? Will you be able to save him on your own? You have no one, you have no idea where the crew is, and he's going to die. You can't live with yourself if you don't try.

“Y/N.” Miguel says your name like a reprimand.

“You said back in the carriage that I can leave whenever I want, all I needed to do was ask.” You chuckle without humour. “Here’s me asking, Miguel.”

“You'll die, Y/N, I can't lose you too.”

“And I can't lose him.” Tears gather in your eyes. “If no one will save him then who will? I have to go whether you like it or not.”

“The people will,” Lyla pipes up, she casually leans against the wall, checking her nails. “there have been…whispers since they announced his execution. If you go, I'm sure you won't be alone.”

You face the taller man again. “See, I have help—”

“Rumours aren't enough! Don't you get it? You're better off marrying Thompson at this point.” You blink in surprise. He backtracks. “I–I didn't mean it that way, I meant, I'd rather see you settled than dead.”

“You might not be as bad as Mathias, but you might as well be.” You brokenly say. Miguel's face falls at your words. “You claim to love my parents and me by extension, but you're complicit,” you spit out the word full of venom. “you're only helping them by not letting me go. I don't want to be settled, Miguel.” You shake your head. “It isn't love if you make me.”

Miguel visibly shatters in front of you. None of the composure he showed to Mathias is left in his body. He hasn't seen this much devotion since your parents. He hasn't seen this much love since he felt their presence. He hasn't felt this hurt since his daughter left this world.

“You had time to grieve for them, I didn't.” You push him out of the way, controlling your sob. “Please don't stop me, or I'll fight you like how I fought Mathias.” You open the doors to your chambers.

Miguel lingers outside as you and Lyla make your way inside the familiar room. The man that has your dagger sits in front of the vanity, the large man is currently trying on a spare tiara, and is wearing one of the ruby earrings.

“You can keep those,” Your sudden voice makes him jump away, large eyes staring at you with slight embarrassment. “I won't tell a soul, just take them, give me my dagger and get out of Hazelside.”

The cogs in his head move, swallowing thickly, he nods curtly. “Can I keep the necklace too?” He asks gruffly.

“Sure,” You shrug, Lyla stifled a giggle.

Wordlessly, he shoves a ruby necklace in his pocket, then he unsheathes your dagger and places it on the vanity.

“We good, duchess?”

“Actually,” you have an idea. “You're a muscle for hire, correct?” You've noticed how he doesn't move like the other foot soldiers do, or the guards for Hazelside. His disheveled uniform solidifies your theory. The man nods proudly. “How would you like to take my entire jewelry box in exchange for you and your men's services?”

“That depends, what kind of work are we talkin’ ‘bout?”

Lyla adds to the conversation. “Murder of some pompous nobles and free a bunch of pirates. With a main focus on the red spider of course.”

“Kill the red spider too?” He asks, a thick eyebrow raised.

“No!” You say quickly, “free him and kill anyone who stands in the way.” You mutter a curse under your breath. “I don't have time for this.”

The mercenary thinks once again, he seems to be weighing the pros and cons.

Stepping closer, you practically breathe down his neck. “I'll throw in my shoes and gowns too,” you raise a hand for him to shake. “As long as you'll be there before the execution starts, and you keep my uncle and aunt distracted, scare them is all. Just don't touch my cousins or the staff.”

The scarred man chuckles deeply. “An offer I cannot refuse, duchess.” He clasps your hand, shaking it once. “Creating chaos is our main specialty.”

“Yes and I saw a glimpse of that in the barn.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, eyes lit with tamped down anger. “You better hold your end of the bargain, or you'll have my dagger in your throat instead of my necklace.”

“‘course, my lady. My men will be there.” He leaves with a grin, shoving Miguel by his shoulder.

“What just happened?” Your godfather asks as you lift your skirt to rip the metal of your petticoat off using the dagger. He turns around, closing the doors to your chambers and shuts his eyes while still turned around.

“Our girl here just used her charisma to strike a bargain. Oh they grow up too fast.” Lyla dramatically wipes a nonexistent tear in her eye. “Don't forget to change your shoes, my lady.”

You stare at yourself in the vanity, blood coats the front of your gown, a smattering of crimson coats the lace, splashes of ichor paints the front of the bodice right next to the pretty embroidery. Your face isn't any better, the makeup the handmaidens painted you with is still there, but now it coincides with Mathias' drying blood. It drips down from your cheeks down to your neck, it hides the gold underneath the crimson. Your left eye shares the same shade, capillaries burst, spreading your blood into the whites of your eyes. The gloves meant to hide the callouses and fresh scars are sticking to your skin, drenched in ruby, drenched like the floors of the revenge.

You leave it on, a reminder of your goal.

“I haven't forgotten.” Tossing the heeled shoes away, you make your way towards where you hid your old friend.

The sight alone of the weathered leather shoes would make you weep but you don't have time for that. Lifting your skirts up, still wearing the ridiculous wedding gown that has become significantly lighter, you quickly run towards the unicorn tapestry.

Dagger in hand, you're surprised to hear Miguel's heavy strides following you inside the hidden tunnels. Once the sun greets you and the grass crunches under your feet, you beeline for the barn.

A stable boy jumps at the sudden intrusion, he stutters, moreso when he sees your blood drenched form.

“Can you saddle Bernard quickly?” You ask, and the poor boy almost has a heart attack. “Please? I'm a friend of Hobie and—”

“Oh, Hobie! You should've said it earlier then. You're her! He told me a whole lot about you." He smiles at you, already picking up the heavy saddle. "You know how to ride, My lady?"

“No need for that.” You wave away the title. “And yes, perks of running away for years, you learn how to run away in different ways.”

He chuckles, yet the nervousness is still palpable in his eyes. “I'm on it, your grace.”

Smiling softly, you don't correct him anymore. Turning around, you see no one accompanying you. “Lyla?”

“She went off to get her horse,” Miguel appears from behind the barn door. “I'm keeping a lookout.” He returns to his post, acting casual while leaning on the door.

“You don't have to be here if you don't want to, Miguel.” You walk behind him, the wooden doors are blocking you from his view and vice versa.

“I…pondered your words, Y/N, and you're right. I don't want to make you do something you clearly don't want. I won't make that same mistake again, it cost me years without you. It won't make me lose another day without you, even if it means saving a damn pirate.” He chuckles, and you take his hand from where you stood. You hear his breath hitch, “I'm sorry. I think your parents would hate me right now.”

“I don't know them very well but, I think they'll be proud of you. You found me, you brought me home. You were doing the best you can with good intentions.” You squeeze his rough hand, placing your forehead against the door where his shoulders would lie. “Thank you for letting me leave. I think it's best for you to move on, uncle. They'd want that for you.” You hear him sniff, squeezing your hand back.

“Yes, I think it's best.” He lets your hand go, “starting with this,” Placing something round in your hand, he closes your palm around it gently. “They’d want you to have it, something to keep close to you when you're at sea. It helped me back then, I'm sure it'll help you now.”

“You're not coming with me?”

“Not yet, I'll follow you once I can. I'll keep your aunt and uncle here, making sure that they don't get their footmen to follow you. And I'll make sure the ruffians you hired won't go overboard and actually do what you asked them to.” Miguel tearfully chuckles, “just promise me you won't lose your humanity after you take your revenge.”

“I promise, I won't let it consume me.” You whisper your promise just for him.

Taking a peek at the object in your hand, your heart almost shatters at the familiarity of it. It's the same one your mother was clutching in her portrait. Opening the golden locket, you see a portrait of your mother on the left, and on the right, your father. They look younger in the painting, happier, more alive. They were right, you bear a resemblance to your father just as much as to your mother's features. You finally got a good look at them together, and your heart squeezes at the thought.

Sniffing, you look up at Miguel with gratitude, “tell my cousins ‘thank you,’ please.”

“I will. Keep the locket safe for when we meet again?”

“I will, I'll see you in the water, uncle.” He's the only person who's worthy of the title you've bestowed him. Lyla gallops her horse in the distance. “Now get out of here, or I'll end up not letting you go.” You tease, it has half truth in it. Your smile falters, "Tell my mother—"

“Come back and you can tell her yourself. She's still staying in the same town. I know she's waiting for you.” He finally turns around to face you. “Before you go,” shrugging off his coat, he hands it to you. “You'll get cold.”

You look at the fabric with tears in your eyes. Taking the blue coat, he helps you put it on. Sniffing, he turns you back around, rubbing the creases in the sleeves away.

“There, it's perfect but it's missing something.”

“Something blue, and now I've got something borrowed.” Joking, you smile at your godfather.

Miguel hands you a blunderbuss, it's an ordinary looking one, save for the purple leather handle that decorates it.

“It was your father's, he gave it to me when he named me your godfather.” He points at the silver barrel where three letters are etched on it crudely. “It's our first initials. He said that it gave him extra luck.”

“I—I can't take this.”

“Well, you've already taken my locket and coat, what harm falls on me if I gave you his gun? You're gonna need it wherever you're going.” Miguel shoves it in your hands, “just— save a bullet for Mathias and the queen.”

“That I can do.” You grin at him despite the pain in your chest.

“The party's here.” Lyla’ horse stops just outside, she exclaims with fanfare. “Ready to kill some motherfuckers?”

“Aye,” you nod with determination. The fire is blazing under your eyes, lightning in your fingertips, you wear the locket around your neck with pride.

For your parents that you've never met but came to love. For Miguel, for the crew and for all they've sacrificed for you. for Hobie, the love of your life. And for MJ.

—

You ride off on Bernard's back, flames in your chest, wind whipped cheeks, and hands clutching the reins tighter. Your father's blunderbuss weighs heavy on your hips, the smell of Mathias' drying blood stings in your nose. But the putrid smell keeps you awake, a reminder of your goal, a reminder of what truly matters— Hobie. Your love that is currently in shackles, hands bound tighter than the rope around his neck.

Lyla snaps you awake, her own horse huffing from the intense speed.

“Your eyes keep glossing over, duchess, keep ‘em clear for me, yeah?” She yells above the loud hoofbeats.

“I will, are you sure about your plan?”

“My guild consists of a bunch of sacks of shits that'll do anything for a quick coin.” You knit your eyebrows in worry. “But they're loyal to a fault, ‘sides, your captain used to be one of us, once upon a time.”

“What?” You spot the capital's sign, entering the city without stopping. There's a fork in the road as you ride towards the center of the city. The familiar smell of the sea fills you as you ride closer and closer to your destination.

“A story for another day, gorgeous.” She rides faster, her guns clinking against the saddle. “I'll ride ahead, gather as many as I can. Go to him, and disrupt the festivities.” Her voice fades as she hurries off.

Lyla heads towards the left whilst you ride on the right, trying to remember the directions she told you during the short ride.

Numerous buildings whizz by you as you ride faster and faster. Rickety stone buildings turn into elegant carved marble. The streets become smoother as you get closer to the palace. You heard the crowd before you saw them.

Bernard stops in his tracks, right at the edge of the thousands of people clambering to see the execution. He whines as you try to calm him down. Some of the common people are quiet, eyes straight towards the stage where a large man with a black hood stands. The scraping of the ax getting sharpened makes your heart stop.

The palace looms overhead, its golden terrace holds the royals, faces smug, wigs high as they look down at the crowd. Right next to them stands Mathias, hand hastily bandaged, still dripping in blood. His face contorts into pain as he clutches at his injury. You draw your father's gun out, resisting the urge to shoot at the man, but with how far you are, you know you'll miss.

Scanning the stage, you bite your tongue, preventing a pained whimper from getting out.

You've made it, and he has too.

Clad in a white undershirt with the sleeves too big for his frame, trousers too short for his legs, hands tied behind his back, face beaten. Hobie stands with his back straight despite all the red gashes under his thin shirt.

You whisper his name like he can hear you above the yells of the people. You're frozen, hands shaking, eyes unblinking at his form.

The uniformed men make him kneel, his knees slam harshly against wooden floors.

Hobie was never afraid of dying before, he avoided it a hundred times. Yet, his binded hands quiver, dull grey eyes scanning around the crowd, he tries to find familiar faces amidst all the strangers. Trying to find his crew, not for help, but the thought of dying in front of them fills him with sorrow. He doesn't see them, and he's glad. Moreso when he doesn't see your face, he doesn't want you to experience what he had seen before.

But there's a part of him that wants to see you for one last time before steel kisses his neck. He wants to feel your lips against his again, but for now, having the memory of it is enough. The pearl you gave him is cold against his chest, he wishes to hold it again.

Having you in his arms however brief is enough for him, he'll think of you when the blade strikes him down for the last time.

Even with his imminent death, he still finds the will to smile, the same smile you love so much. It's enough to snap you awake.

A navy officer yells above the crowd, scroll in hand, voice booming and commanding. “Here stands the notorious pirate Hobart Brown, he stands here waiting for his sentence. The crimes he has committed are atrocious enough that the crown has automatically given him the guilty verdict!” The people don't cheer, some even boo and hiss at the man. You inhale deeply, hand holding on to the reigns tighter, as you weave Bernard through the crowd. Surprisingly, they part for you.

“What say you, Hobart Brown?”

Hobie chuckles deeply, lips split and bloodied, he grins. “It's captain, actually!” His voice drives you to ride faster, gun raised. He twists around to look at the nobles in their high tower. “It's captain Hobie Brown, you fuckin' wankers!” Cackling, the officer kicks him down. He falls, gasping, neck landing harshly at the stone slab that still has remnants of its last guest.

Still, Hobie yells obscenities, “you haven't won! You might cut my head but two more will replace me! Just like how I replaced the emerald bastard from the south!” He tries to sit up but another man holds him down. “They'll be stronger and better than me! From my death, the people will gather at your gates and break your golden walls!”

The executioner raises his large ax, the sun bouncing off the metal.

Hobie quiets down at the glimmer of the ax shining in his eyes. Whispering the names of his loyal crew, then he softly calls for you like an acolyte prays for forgiveness.

The crowd parts for you like the sea parts for a sailing ship. Giddying up, hooves hitting loudly against stone, you aim.

It's the end, but it doesn't have to be.

“Hobie!” You scream as loud as you can before you shoot.

He blinks in surprise for a second, the man holding him down scampers away as a shot rings out. Now free, Hobie quickly moves away from the stone slab as your bullet hits the executioner's hood right in-between his eyes.

Gasping, the ax falls next to Hobie's head with a thud. The edge is embedded in the wood, missing his face just a few inches away. Eyes staring at the clear sky, he thinks he has died when your face suddenly appears in front of him.

“Scuttlebutt,” he softly says in disbelief.

“Hi, captain, I'm here to rescue you.” You smile at him, “hold on a minute.” Sitting up right, you shoot at the remaining officer. A body thuds, and you return to his side. “I've got you.” You say as you help him sit up, hands already untying his bonds.

Hobie looks at you like a sailor looks at the sea for the first time, with reverence, and awed by the sheer beauty. “You've got me.”

Ropes falling off his aching wrists, he moves to hold your face desperately. Without a second thought, he kisses you fervently. Life spreads back to him, fingertips electric as he holds your face close. Lips warm, you kiss back like it's just you and him. Hands instinctively sliding to his head, you pull away when you feel scruff under your palm.

“What did they do to your hair?!” You almost weep, hands roaming across his bare head. “Oh my god, they have to pay for this.”

Hobie laughs, still holding your face like holding on to a precious pearl. “It'll grow back.” Tears prick your eyes, mirroring his own. “I love you, you did good, scuttlebutt.”

“I did good?” You peck his chapped lips once more.

“Yeah, love.” He prevents you from looking at the military that has their weapons raised and their eyes targeting you and him. “You did very well—” tears escape his grey eyes when he hears the familiar click of a gun.

It's the end.

“I love you too,” you know it's the end. “I'll see you back at the revenge?”

“Save some of Finn's bread for me, yeah?” Hobie leans his forehead atop yours. “I'm sorry.” His voice falters.

“Don't be, I'm glad I fell in that net.” You hold on to him for dear life. Etching his warmth in your brain so you remember it until you're cold. “I'd run towards that dock all over again if I had the chance again.”

It's the end, and you hold him close.

As you embrace each other, as your love is displayed for all to see, your warmth radiates through the crowd. You burn together with him.

Fire consumes and burns but it also lights the way.

The silence wraps around the city center, then, someone yells, pushing off the officer who has his gun aimed at your head. The people follow, rioting against their oppressors.

You both stare below in disbelief, hand cradling your head, he shields your eyes from seeing the violence unfold. Just when bullets hit flesh, and knives slash at necks, an explosion booms above.

Hobie holds onto you tighter, battered arms wrapped around you protectively as debris and smoke fills the whole place. The building across the palace is in flames, and from the billowing ashes out comes a familiar face.

Gwen takes off her hood, feet precariously standing on the ledge, then another form comes out of the smoke, Miles takes his stance next to the first mate, handing her a long rope.

“Holy shit! It's them!” Hobie exclaims, letting you see them with your own eyes.

You grin as you spot them above, “it's them,” you say in shock. A second later, they jump off the building effortlessly, guns raised as they land on their feet right next to the stage.

“I'll cover you!” Miles yells above the chaos as more and more buildings around the palace erupt in a chorus of explosions.

Gwen clambers next to you, relief on her face, hugging the two of you. Embracing back, she leans away to stare at you and her captain.

“You fucking idiots! I'd slap you over the head if I didn't love you both.”

“We love you too, Gwendy.” Hobie smiles amidst the aches.

“What he said, Gwendy.” You beam at her with overwhelming love.

“Love you too, now we need to get you out of here.”

“I have a ship docked somewhere, it's called the osprey. Take it and—” You start but Hobie and Gwen interrupt.

“You make it sound like you're not comin’ with us.”

“Y/N,” Gwen warns as she helps you two on your feet.

“I’m coming with—” a gun goes off.

Blood splatters across your faces. Crimson blooms across Gwen's stomach.

“...oh” she looks at you with her eyebrows knitted together, hand pressing on her belly. You catch Gwen in your arms as you feel the fear in you spread. She calls your name weakly.

Hobie stares at you with terrified eyes as he clutches the back of Gwen's head.

“No, no, don't speak—just… oh fuck!” You try to stop the bleeding by ripping a part of your gown to stuff it inside her wound. Ichor spills out of her like waterfalls. “I've got you!” She yells in pain and you simultaneously hear Miles scream.

Flicking your tear filled eyes over to Miles, he has his back on the ground, face contorted into pain whilst Mathias has his boot on his shooting hand. Miles still fights, kicking and scratching at the man's leg.

“This is what happens when you disrupt—” Red appears on his side as Hobie uses your fallen gun to shoot him where he has his foot crushing atop Miles’ hand. Mathias yelps in pain, a throaty sound escaping from his pale lips.

Hobie is filled with rage, embers flickering in him, turning into flames and then a blaze that burns his insides into ash.

Miles coughs as Mathias runs away towards the enormous church right next to the palace. He pushes away people, blood trailing behind him.

“Miles!” You yell, in your relief, he stands back up, weaving around people to clamber up the steps of the stage.

“I'm here!” He crawls over to Gwen, gently clutching her pale face. “Oh god no, please,” Miles looks at you. “Fix her, please.” Tears slide down his cheeks. “Please.”

You look towards Hobie, not knowing what to do, but said man is nowhere to be found. You briefly spot him running around the crowd, cutting down coppers swiftly with your father's gun and a stray cutlass, following after the man who has shot at his family.

Not again, you think, hands drenched once again in crimson. Not again, not again. You've failed once again.

Someone calls next to you, familiar hands holding yours.

“Tell us what to do.” Yuri thaws you out from your frozen state. Gwen gurgles, grip around your wrist weakening. James appears next to Yuri as you see in your peripheral the same mercenary and his men shooting at soldiers. Lyla cackles near them, adding her guild to the mix in the chaos. “Y/N,” Yuri calls again sternly. “We need you.”

With a sniff, you compose yourself, for Gwen. “Keep your hands on her wound, pack it with cloth then keep pushing.” Gwen groans, you look at her apologetically. “I know it hurts, I'm sorry but we need to do this. Let us do this.”

“I saw a doctor's clinic near here.” James pipes up, “if we take her there will you be able to save her?”

“Yes, we need to—”

Pavitr runs towards the group, guns raised, eyes full of rage once he sees Gwen. “No…” he says weakly. He fixes his composure, for Gwen. “James and I will cover you while the three of you carry Gwen.” He instructs, voice steady.

“No, no, no!” Gwen protests. “It hurts— I can't—”

“You can!” Miles beats you to it. “D’you remember what I told you when we realized Y/N and Hobie weren't behind us after we got attacked?” She nods weakly, lips bitten to stop her pained whimpers. “I meant it, Gwen. I meant all of it yet I haven't shown it because I'm a goddamn coward. Let me show you how much I love you, but I can't do that if you don't let us carry you. So please, let us carry you.”

Gwen smiles, icy eyes staring fondly at Miles. They have a wordless conversation, then Miles gives her a gentle peck on her forehead.

“As long as the d-doc here follows our captain.” She says.

“What—? No, you need me.” You shake your head.

“We already know what to do,” she winces, “you're the only person that can stop him, he'll die, Y/N. Meanwhile I've got a chance with them beside me. And he's all alone.”

You look at the others, they all nod and you blink in surprise. “But—”

“We have her, wifey.” Yuri smiles kindly at you. “This isn't our first bullet wound. Go and fetch our captain for us would ya?”

You have no time to think about it, so you choose what they instructed you to do. “Keep your hands on her and support her back—” your eyes find the familiar large man wearing your rubies. “Oi!” He pauses from crushing a soldier's arm. “Get a handful of your men and help them get to the doctor's!”

“Do I have to?” He asks, shrugging.

“Yes! I paid you!”

The man sighs then he gestures to a few of his people to climb up the stage. Before you let go of Gwen, you stare daggers at the men in the fake uniforms. “Keep all of them alive and I might just give you a piece of Hazelside.”

“Say no more, duchess, we got ‘em.”

“Gwen—” You take one last look over to her.

“Go, I don't plan on dying today.”

“You better. Meet us back at the ship.” You roam your eyes at the crew like it's the last time you would see them. With a nod towards Yuri, you slide your hands away quickly, Yuri replaces the space you left with her own.

Wordlessly you turn away from them. You fight yourself from looking back. Running away towards Hobie, you hope that it's not too late.

Weaving through the crowd, dodging bullets and swords, you keep your head down and keep your eyes forward at the grand church waiting ahead. The spires are tall and sharp, reminding you of the dragons that rose up from the sea and blocked out the moon. Gargoyles decorate the roofs, all stone and eyes large, mouths agape, unmoving.

You lift the skirt of your tattered gown, it might be covered in blood but the white colour of it is a stark contrast to the dark chaos surrounding you. It acts as a beacon to the people as they see you in their ranks, a noble in their eyes that bears gold and silver around her neck and sleeves. Someone who fought everyone just to get to her pirate captain, they find it in themselves to continue fighting. A few even helps you get to your destination by blocking any guards or soldiers from laying their hands on you.

Smoke in your lungs, steel clanging against steel. Blades slashing at limbs, people screaming in all directions, both with rank and without, they all end up in the same fate. You run through the blood soaked field.

Feet sprinting across the field, people are few and far in between once you get nearer and nearer towards the church. Hands on the large doors, you push the heavy oak to no avail. It's locked, the evidence of it is the rattling noise it makes as you shake it in desperation.

Hobie's in there, and you'd do anything to get to him.

You go around the structure to find a window that's big enough for you to slither into. But all the stained glass windows are too high up for you to reach even if you try to break one. Losing hope, you turn a corner towards the back. You finally breathe when you see a wooden door. Without wasting time, you push it open with your shoulder, shoving it, the rust covered hinges creak with your strength. And finally, it bursts open with one final push.

The sight alone made you stop in your tracks. Clutching your dagger, a finely dressed man lays dead in a pool of blood. A sword embedded in his back, a cracked crown sitting next to his bloodied head. The person standing over the king is none other than his own wife, her face isn't one of sadness but of sheer happiness as she grins at her husband's dead body. Blood dripping off her royal hands, she lifts her head to gaze upon you.

“Hello, little bird, you finally made it.” Caroline stands in front of the altar, the kaleidoscope of lights from the glass windows acts as her spotlight. Her gown is in rich velvet, furs covering her shoulder. And a large tiara on top of her intricate powdered wig.

“You killed him.” Gripping your dagger tighter, you stay away from the bloody queen.

“I did,” Caroline giggles, a sound that sends shivers through your spine. “You look marvelous in your wedding gown by the way. A shame that you didn't get married to that fine young man.” Her voice echoes around the large church, its ceilings are high and painted with saints. They look down at you, eyes lifeless. “Lieutenant.” She calls and the man answers, coming out of the shadows and into the pews. “Do me a favour and kill her for me.”

The disheveled man walks over to you, hand still decorated by your bite.

“Why don't you kill me yourself? Like how you killed your husband.” You address the woman, taunting her.

The queen raises a hand and the navy man stops immediately. She smiles and takes the sword out of her husband's body with ease, then she steps over his body without remorse.

“With pleasure.” She unclasps her cloak, the heavy cloth thuds against the marble. “If I couldn't kill your mother personally, I'd settle for killing you instead.”

“What the fuck—!” The queen arches her sword, thankfully you parry it with your dagger. You know you'll lose in the duel with your smaller weapon against hers and her swordsmanship. A yell echoes from above, a distinct scream from who you hope is from Mathias.

“I wasn't lying when I said you remind me of her!” She slashes, right foot pointed towards you, dodging the sharp edge, the heels of your feet hit a pew, then you fall backwards, back and elbows hitting the hardwood. “But she wasn't much of a fighter just like you!” Her eyes are ablaze as you scramble away.

“Why are you doing this?!” Your voice carries off around the church. “You said you were friends!”

Raising your dagger to shield your face when she tries to slash at your chest, she stands atop you, knee right next to your thigh, leg perching her up. Steel dangerously close to your face, wrists aching from her push, you take your free hand to grip the sharp edge of your dagger to combat her own strength. You feel the knife dig into your palm.

“Why?” The queen cackles, leaning her mad face close. “Because she's the reason why I'm here, she's the reason why that man has ruined me until I couldn't even recognize myself—!”

Lifting your legs, bending your knees, you kick her right in her chest. Making her lose her balance, face falling flat on the marble floors. You take the opportunity to crawl and stand up, sprinting away from her. As you bolt off towards the altar, and towards the door to the bell tower, the stairs are within your reach, but Caroline yanks you by your skirt. You fall off the steps of the altar, body and dagger sliding off the smooth marble.

Groaning, she points her weapon towards your neck, taking your mother's necklace by her blade. “Why did you kill them? For revenge?” You ask, vision blurring from the way your head hit the floor. Everything aches in you, but you continue to fight.

“No, for the satisfaction of them being dead.” She eyes the golden necklace and you glare at her. “She was meant to take the crown, not me. Instead she ignored her duty and ran off with a bastard, and I was forced to marry that fucking beast!” Her voice booms, the saints above look down at the chaos. “Forced to carry his children, children I never wanted but loved nonetheless. Children that I never saw grow up because they were taken from me the second they came out of me!” Her hand shakes around the sword.

You slyly inch your hand towards your dagger that's only a hair width away from your fingertips. You let her continue as the tears in her eyes fall on your bloodied face.

“I never wanted to be queen, all I've ever wanted was to see the world. Your mother took that away from me, and now her daughter is living my fucking dream! The second I knew you were alive I wanted to wring your fucking neck. To hurt you just like her choices had on me.” She twists her sword so the blunt edge is kissing your neck, torture, she's planning on sawing your head off with the blunt edge. “If she can't pay, I'd settle for making you hurt instead.”

“You want to kill me because of what happened decades ago? You're fucking mad if you think sins are passed from parent to child! I never knew them!” You fight back despite the blade near your neck. “Do you understand that you caused the same pain to me that the king has caused you? Whatever you want to call it, it's still revenge!” Caroline pushes the cutlass closer, so close that you can feel it in your throat, choking you. “You're blaming the wrong people for your misfortune, blame the people who used you, who said yes to his every whim, not the couple who only wanted to marry the one they love!”

“I’m the victim here—!”

“You are, but who points the sword towards the innocent?” She blinks, lips wobbling. “Look at you, Mathias told me you're brilliant, but you never thought this part through, haven't you? What do you think the nobles of the land will do to you the moment they hear of your regicide? Who will they blame? Me, who bears the mark of your cruelty? Or you, who has the king's blood on your golden hands?”

You distract her enough to finally reach the dagger, swiftly, you plunge it to the nearest part of her that you can manage, her thigh. She screams in agony, sword and crown clanging loudly on the floor. The once favoured queen clutches her wound that's gushing blood, seeping out of her velvet dress and spilling over the white marble.

Unexpectedly, she cries as she desperately wraps her skirt around the gushing wound. You clamber up to your feet, eyes flitting over the stoic man when Caroline calls for him to kill you where you stand. He doesn't move from his position near the confessionals.

“Are you gonna fight me too? An eye for an eye?” You ask, hands shaking while you bend down for your crimson drenched dagger.

“No, your father and I are even.” The simple words turn your eyes the same shade as the fluid pooling around the queen.

“You're just gonna stand there?” You ask while Caroline's wails echo around the expansive church.

“I'm waiting for you to leave so I can help her.” He seems to be unbothered. A scream rings out from above, louder than the woman's screams. Alarm bells trigger in your mind. “Sounds like someone needs your help.”

“Don't follow me,” you threaten, knife pointed at him as you slither towards the door. “Don't help your captain.”

“Alexander!” She screams for the lieutenant.

“You're right, he's already dead anyway, not my problem anymore.” His eye follows you, “Good luck, duchess.”

With one look towards the mysterious man, you get a glimpse of him crouching next to the woman, hands casually tamping down the rushing blood. Locking the door behind you, you run once again.

The winding spiral staircase seems to go up forever, hand clutching your dagger, you don't even feel the pain in your ankles anymore. Numbness flashes over you for a second, but you carry on. The walls get smaller and tighter as you go on, the stone scratches your hands, the small windows barely provide any light for you. The sounds of struggle get louder, so you speed off with the last of your strength.

Rushing, you make it to the top where Mathias has his hands wrapped around Hobie's neck, with no ounce of hesitation, you plunge your dagger in the devil's flesh, right in between his clavicle.

With a shriek, Mathias lets go of Hobie. Your captain gasps for air, clutching his neck. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, relief washing over you just from seeing him breathe.

“I have you!” Holding his face, you thank the stars that he holds you back with his warm hands.

Hobie utters your name softly, “You have a habit of savin’ me, eh, scuttlebutt?” He smiles at you even with his left eye swelling, even with his mouth full of ichor.

You grin, getting him back to his feet. “The others are waiting—!” A large hand picks you up, wrapping a thick arm around your waist, the other is holding your own weapon in his cracked knuckles. Your own blade is placed harshly against your throat.

A trickle of blood drips from your flesh, and Hobie has the same look back on the revenge. Terrified, the swirling greys of his eyes are mortified at the scene in front of him.

Mathias still lives despite the laceration on his neck, despite his life rushing off of him in waves. He stands precariously on the edge of the tower, his back against the sea, the waves lapping against the cliffs below. He holds you tight as a noose when the wind rushes from behind.

There's a bout of silence hanging in between, Hobie's breath hitches in his throat at your fearful face.

“Don't—” Hobie's voice is broken, pleading desperately. “Please,” Not again, not again. The words scream at him. Not her, never her. “Take me instead.”

Mathias gurgles a response. “Just like old times, eh?”

As the blade kisses your neck, you could only look at Hobie. The copper bell is hanging behind him, large and magnificent, and he stands there with his hand desperately reaching towards you, his gun holds no bullets, sword lay broken in half near his feet.

It's the end, but he declines for it to end, for your life to end at hands of the same man that ended his old love three years ago.

He thinks fate is cruel, he thinks the fates hate him. He thinks his life is a Greek tragedy that was waiting to be written for the fates’ entertainment. He refuses to give them the ending they wanted.

You know it's the end, but it doesn't have to be the end for him too.

There's no other option, no other hope but, "No more sacrifices." You whisper to him even though you know he couldn't hear you, at the same time, you whisper an apology to him.

Images of the past six months flashes in your mind. Images of the tavern you once called home, images of the ship you still call your home. Images of the people you've come to love, images of your island and the sand in between your toes, and the sun on your back. Images of Hobie smiling down at you, images of him holding you close as you cry in his arms.

Images of you learning to love him.

You love him and all his sharp edges, all his anger and all his warmth. You loved him, and that's all that matters in life. To love someone so wholeheartedly that it burrows into your bones and digs deep into your marrows, never letting go. You loved him, and he's worth it for what you're about to do. To be loved back is a gift that he graciously granted you, you intend to cherish it until your end.

You call his name like the softest of silk wrapped around your tongue. "Hobie," and you smile at him, letting your smile tell him that he wasn't born to be a knife, letting your smile tell him that you love him more than the moon loves the tides.

He whispers back your name, pleading with you, for he knows you more than he knows himself, and he knows what you're about to do.

With a loop of your foot around Mathias' ankle, you pull hard, then you let yourself fall backwards.

“Alis volat propriis” You softly say, prying the knife from Mathias’ hand.

And fly you did.

Fear encapsulates him as you fall, the same fear flows out of you like spring water as you plunge into the dark depths.

Hobie refuses to look, frozen on the spot, unblinking eyes still staring at the space you left. His heart feels like it's about to give out as he says your name over and over again like a mantra.

He's a knife meant to grieve.

Slowly, his feet move for him. Body stiff, he makes it to the ledge. Grief stricken eyes darting below, he lets out a guttural wail that carries on with the wind.

Clutching his broken heart, he falls to his knees. He keeps repeating your name as he stares at the bubbles rising up on the surface, the waves deliver seafoam on the beach below, and with it, hope still clings to him.

“No,” A sob breaks through when you don't emerge a second later. “...no, c'mon scuttlebutt, don't fuckin' leave me.”

Grief rolls over his skin like tiny pinpricks of sorrow puncturing his insides and into his scarred heart. Your face flashes in front of him, and the voice inside him asks, 'will it be bad if you follow?'

“Brown?” A familiar voice calls behind him, Hobie whirls around, grief evident on his face, Miguel already knows what happend. He shakes his bloody head profusely, “where's— where is she?”

Hobie doesn't answer, he turns back towards the sea. Agony filling his very being as he stares below.

“No!” Miguel follows Hobie's eyes. And then he screams for you. He searches for you under the waves.

Hobie lays his head on the wall of the bell tower. A minute, it's been a minute since you fell, yet no sign of a body has floated up. The sky is still calm, the sun still shines, yet, you don't resurface.

He blinks away when he sees fingers reaching amongst the waves. “Did you see that?” Praying, praying to any deity out there that is listening to him, he prays that his mind isn't playing a cruel joke on him.

“What?”

Hobie stands up, taking Miguel's face to turn it towards the waters. Something moves under the seafoam, someone moves under the seafoam.

His heart picks up speed, and he rushes down the stairs. Miguel follows close by, their feet thudding loudly on the stairs. They ignore the various pains in their body, what matters is you, and they intend to get to your side as quickly as possible.

They go through the broken door that Miguel kicked, and they run over a puddle of blood without a body. Sprinting outside, the sea breeze greets them. They don't stop for anyone or anything, even though the palace burns to the ground behind them, even though the heat from the melting golden gates sears their backs. They continue downward towards the path to the beach.

Hobie trips on a rock, Miguel helps him up swiftly.

From the tides, you rise once more.

Heaving from the swim, drenched and sore. You grin at the two men rushing towards you. Like the waves lapping at your feet, relief washes over them.

You raise your arms in time just before Hobie crashes his body to yours. His face finds safety in the crook of your neck. Arms holding you tight and comfortable, he breaths you in, taking a deep shuddering breath. You smell like the sea. He can't believe you're alive, can't believe that you're back in his arms.

“I lost the dagger,” you say against his cheek as you press cold kisses on his skin.

“I'll get you a new one.” Tears flow out of his eyes, he feels like he's dreaming, he feels like fate has finally granted him reprieve. “I’ll get you a hundred more, fuck that, a thousand more if you asked.”

“I just want one.” You chuckle.

“I'll get you one then.” Hobie peels himself off you, fingers roaming your face, the heel of his hand is placed atop your pulse, making sure he didn't fall off the tower himself. “You're alive.” He says breathlessly, “you fuckin' swam!”

“I had a good teacher.” You say as you hold him tenderly. “He's dead, it's over, Hobie.” Salty tears in your lashes, he pulls you in for another hug. Eyes closed, you savour the calmness with the sound of the rushing sea behind you, knowing that Mathias lays beneath its waves with your dagger embedded in his eye. “It's over, and I'm alright.”

Holding your hand towards Miguel who sits on his knees on the sand, eyes glowing with consolation. You flex your hand towards him so he could hold your hand. He stands up, taking it willingly, squeezing once like how he held your parents’ hands once upon a time.

Miguel nods proudly at you, gently pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, he gives you and Hobie space. You mouth a thank you towards the man.

—

“Shit!” James exclaims, jumping up and down on the docks. “Look at her! She's magnificent!”

“Spell ‘magnificent’, James.” Yuri taunts.

“Don't ruin this for me!” He turns towards you, grinning from ear to ear like a child in a sugar shop. “You're actually giving us this ship?”

“Mm-hmm—” before you could finish nodding, James sprints off towards the fine ship. Yuri winks at you before she follows behind James.

The sun slowly sets, bathing the waters in pink and orange light. James isn't wrong, the ship is magnificent. It's bigger than the black hellion, much bigger. Two crow's nests sit at the highest point of the masts. The body is well maintained, oak still shining in the late afternoon sun. Silver violets and hazelnuts decorate the sides, a reminder of what could've been.

Looking at your new home, you shift your gaze to Hobie, knowing wherever he is, as long as you're with him, you're home.

Your tired eyes flick over the figurehead of an osprey with its wings outstretched around the head of the ship. Hobie taps your head with his own gently.

“It needs some work done.”

You chuckle as you fix your hold on him. Still in your wedding gown, skin still smelling like the sea, you move impossibly closer to him. You're both winded, but Hobie has sustained more injuries than you and needed more help in standing up straight. “Do you think we should change the name?”

“Love,” he turns his head towards you, his smile almost makes you kiss him right there and then. “I think I've got a few ideas, for now let's get the fuck out of here.”

“Alright— wait, where's Gwen?”

“Here, worry much, landlubber?” She asks on her stretcher. Miles, Pavitr and an unknown blond man carry her.

“Well you were shot, Gwendy, I think I have every right to be worried.”

“I'm fine now, can't even feel a thing!” She smiles and you recognize her state.

“I think that's the medication talking.” You eye the stranger, “and who might you be?”

“Oi,” Hobie points at the man. “You better not cause any trouble Stacy.”

You lightly gasp, finally noticing the resemblance.

“Not planning on causing any, captain.” Gwen's father smiles and gives you a curt nod.

“Can we hurry the chit chat?” Miles groans.

“You telling me I'm too heavy, Morales?” Gwen teases but the fatigue must've taken a toll on Miles as he takes it seriously.

“W-what? Of course not!”

“You calling my daughter heavy?” Her father jokes back. They're father and daughter alright.

“No! Let's just get on the ship.” Miles pouts, you send him a smile, wordlessly giving him your thanks. He shakes his head, hiding his grin in reply.

“Pav!” You call after Pavitr, “tea later?”

He beams at you, happiness almost blinding you. “Hell yeah!” Jaunting happily, he practically skips off, to Gwen's protest, who still lays on the gurney, shakes from his little dance.

Miguel taps your shoulder, Hobie lets you go so you could hug the man.

“Room for one more?” He asks while patting your back.

Leaning away, your eyes widen, smile widening. “What!”

“I meant for Lyla, kid.” Miguel laughs, smile lines appearing.

“Oh, you're not coming with us?” Disappointment is evident in your voice.

“No, sorry. Maybe one day. I've got unfinished business” He holds your shoulders, “you better take care or I'll chase you again.”

“Oh god, don't say that!” You giggle whilst he mirrors your smile. “If you're not coming, then you can have this back.” Taking off the locket, you place it in his rough palms. “A reminder of them,” you close his fingers around the gold. “Besides, I already have his gun. You deserve something of theirs too.”

The sun shines in his eyes. “This was Gabriella’s, she gifted it to your mother when she got sick. It's a family heirloom.”

“She was Gabriella's godmother, wasn't she?”

“Yes, and your father was her godfather.”

You tap his hand. “It's back in the right hands then.”

“Thank you,” Miguel sniffs, neck craning towards Hobie who sits on a crate. “And you,” Hobie dramatically points at himself. “Take care of my goddaughter, or I'll come after you again.”

Hobie, smirks, “aye, aye, admiral.” He mocks a salute.

Miguel shoots you a look, “you sure about that one?”

You gaze at Hobie, your Hobie. “I'm sure.” He winks at you and you wink back.

“God, I gotta let you go before I get sick.” You chortle as Miguel hugs you one last time. Pressing a kiss on the crown of your head, he nods once, staring at your face, seeing his friends’ faces in yours, saying goodbye to the three of you. “Be good, I'll see you in the sea.”

“Looking forward to it, uncle. Don't get caught by the coppers.” He lets you go with a laugh, unhitching his horse and then getting on, he rides off.

Lyla suddenly appears from the dust with a big grin on her face, she carries suitcases upon suitcases in her arms. “Where to, captain?” She asks you.

“Not the captain, he is.” You gesture towards Hobie who doesn't even correct Lyla. He just waves at her with a small shrug.

“I thought whoever owned the boat was the captain, anyway! Off to adventure!” She cackles into the sunset, feet thudding loudly as she hurls all her luggage on the ship. You vaguely hear someone yell ‘who the fuck are you?!’

You ignore it for now, how could you not when Hobie stares at you so sweetly that you prefer this than chocolate?

“She's not wrong y’know.” He says whilst you saunter towards him. Stretching his legs, he gives you space to stand in between them.

“Are you planning on giving me your title, captain?” You tease, sliding your hands up and down his arms. His own is wrapped around your middle, staring up at you with endearment.

“You're already a captain,” you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head. He sighs, so full of love for the woman in his arms. “of my heart—”

“I knew you would say that!” You laugh, feeling like the weight off your shoulders has finally turned into dust. And he feels like the fish bone stuck in his throat is finally gone.

Hobie smiles softly at you, heart shaped grey eyes full of life. “Are you sure about this? Stayin’ I mean.”

You squeeze the back of his neck, already missing how his hair would tickle your palms. But you love him even with his scruffy head. He looks handsome with or without it, you'll never tell him or his ego would implode. At least now you get the pleasure of seeing it grow, you can't help but press a sickeningly sweet kiss atop his head.

The sound of the anchors getting lifted up fills your ears so you lean closer for him to hear your words better.

“I'll stay as long as you want me too.”

“Forever then?”

“Forever.” You kiss the tip of his nose. “Until I'm cold, you can't escape me.”

Hobie has a lopsided smile on his lips, grey eyes aglow with affection. “You're still in your white dress,” you raise an eyebrow. “Y’know what that means—” Lifting you up like a bride, he carries you towards the ship as you yelp and giggle in his arms. “Off to our honeymoon then!”

As the sun sets, you set off to new beginnings. You've found where you belong, you've finally found home.

A/N: And it's done!! Thank you all so much for reading, interacting and genuinely showing your support whether it's by making fanart or sending your thoughts, I'm forever grateful for all of them!! Love you ❤️

Already missing the crew? They'll be back for Between the Devil and the Sea Book 2!! You can check out my ☕ page for a lil sneak peek!

[luvlyycy]

sanji groans as he lays in the bed of a inn, a yawn escaping from his lips. his birthday was fun but overewhelming. not to say he didn't enjoy it.. it was just.. he didn't see you all day..

a frown deepens on his lips as he remembers that he saw you yesterday, but not today. he begins to remove his suit jacket, unbuttoning his dress shirt as he hears his door open— he knows that nami stole the spare key, so he assumed it was her.

"nami-san?" he calls towards the door, only to hear your voice call back, "hiii, sanji..".

if he were a dog his tail would be wagging. "mon ami !" he stands up excitedly, only for you to gently push him back down.

"sorry i wasn't here baby, i was doing something for you." he can tell by the tone of your voice it was something good— something delicious.

your hands entangled in his blonde locks, the moon shining in from the window, his smile widening— "what is it?—"

"i know it's not the best but.." your hand pulls on the silk ribbon around your waist, your robe slipping off your body to reveal the lacey light blue lingerie you had bought.

sanji leans his head back for a moment, placing one hand over his nose before he looks back at you— his other hand curling around your waist to pull you closer, voice muffled, "god, you're so beautifully wrapped. almost like the perfect meal..—" his hand slides between your legs, tickling your clit— "but this.. is what i'll be eating tonight, cherie..—"