#kingsley x reader

[saphirered]

It is incredibly late (or early?) Where i live so excuse me if this is rambely.

I got an idea for a Lucien/Mollymauk/Kingsley request. And im Hoping once i have it out in the open I'll be able to sleep.

Basically Lucien and the reader were partners when his soul was scattered the same happened to the reader. They both woke up being buried with no recollection of who they were. Once they meet each other in the Mighty Nein they start getting closer a relationship forms they both feel a sort of pull towards one another. When Molly dies the reader doesn't and Lucien remembers the reader but they don't remember him but they feel the same sort of pull they felt for Mollymauk. Once Lucien is actually dead the reader dies of Wounds sustained but again wake up in a grave with no recollection. They meet Kingsley and again there is this sort of pull.

(basically to really quickly explain my idea, the reader's soul got shattered as did Luciens but their souls are forever linked they are meant to be with each other which is why through every revival they feel a pull towards each other)

Again i am so so sorry if this is weird but it's late and i felt the need to get this out and you were the first person i thought of because I've been reading your Mollymauk oneshots for the past few hours.

Good Morning, good day, good night! I love this concept and hope I did it justice and lived up to expectation. Enjoy 😘

He remembers it well. Your first meeting. Or supposed first meeting. Specifically it was your first meeting in this life. He remembers your whispers to the goblin and the ragged wizard when the fated group later becoming known as the Mighty Nein would first meet too. He was his charming self with his angel at his side ready to pull more patrons to the carnival. The carnival had been his home ever since he first looked up at the sky and saw the stars and moons. The moment he set foot in that tavern, something felt so eerily similar to that emptiness. That something was you. He should have run, Molly should have run while he still had the chance but he couldn’t, or wouldn’t. He’s a stubborn one after all and not even his own instincts could tell him what to do. Sure, who knows? You might be dangerous but you’re not dangerous to him. You’re just… lovely. He’d never even said a word to you. How about he changed that? 

“And you? We’d be honoured to have your esteemed presence, my dear. The cards say I should show you your fate, are you willing to see it?” Despite his typical grin and charm you didn’t fall for his ways so quickly. You simply huddle within yourself crossing your arms and making yourself small to take off attention. You’re so used to moving through the shadows you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live in the light. 

“I’m not that big a believer in fate I’m afraid, but thank you.” That voice sent shivers up his spine. Like a beautiful song that could bring him to tears. Something within himself, he doesn’t know why but it speaks to relief and comfort. 

“You should, you should, you should. Look at the reading I got!” The blue tiefling Jester bounces up and down and you curve a smile. Hesitation. He can work with that. 

“For you, love, I’ll even do it for free. Whether you believe or not, I think you can appreciate the irony in holding your fate in your own hand by card, no?” He winks. You cover a snort. 

“Fine. I’ll draw a card.” You hold up your hands in surrender and cringe when Jester squeals interposing between the two of you excitedly. He could kiss that tiefling for unknowingly being his wingwoman in that very moment. Molly fans out his cards holding them in one hand and with a dramatic bow offers them to you face down letting you pick on. Your fingers brush over the surface until you settle on one and pull it from the deck. He rises fully and equally dramatic. You roll your eyes but fight a smile turning the card towards him. 

“The Moon and the Mirror! The first card that ever called to me. One could say our fates are intertwined.” He winks and that smile breaks through when you shake your head in disbelief. 

“I think you say that to everyone.” You retort. You’re unsure whether you mean it or not. Something from the moment the literal and figurative peacock set foot in this tavern there has been something that just changed. Something fell in place. If the world was wrong before, it was right now. It doesn’t make any sense and yet it does but you can’t explain it. It just is. Part of you is frightened. Another part, so deeply rooted wants to indulge. It’s as if this tiefling has the answers to the questions you didn’t even know you had. 

“Only to beautiful stories.”

“Beautiful stories?”

“That’s what the Moon means. The moon represents beautiful stories. Even when the clouds cover, the moon’s still there. Whether people see it or not, that’s a different thing. Your story is yours, even if you hide it, wrap it in layers and disguise, doesn’t mean it’s not there.” You take in a noticeable breath. That’s what he was looking out for. He’s spot on. You’re carrying a glamour of your own to cover this past of yours and that’s okay. He’s not telling everyone his life story. Okay maybe he is but none of them are true. Even if it were, nobody would be able to tell the difference. 

“And the Mirror then?” You raise an eyebrow attempting to deflect. He’ll play along. 

“So you are interested in your fate after all.” 

“Well you do make it sound so alluring.” You lean onto your elbows. Oh he likes you. Molly is done for. He likes you a lot. He could get used to your company. 

“You are far too kind. The Mirror faces us with the truth, as bitter as it may be sometimes. Even the shadows reflect in the mirror. A reveal awaits on your horizon. It’s up to you if you’re ready to face it.” You take in his words. Something has changed. You just don’t know what or why but this tiefling may just have something to do with it. Is this fate after all? No. Just life, or so you tell yourself. 

————

You loved him. He was torn away from you far too soon. You loved him and when he left, with him he took your heart. Your world is bleaker without him. When you visit the places of your memories together, they replay in your head. When you’re in your room and the door opens, you wait for that lavender tiefling to walk in boasting about his latest sham or in various stages of undress, showering you in affection until you tell him you’ll vomit from his ridiculousness. Even the times you were at odds. You’d give the world for just another day with him. Molly died. You’d held his body as he grew cold. You stared into those ruby eyes but nevermore saw the life in them. You closed them and so your world dulled and never fully recovered. They say it gets easier with time and it does. Life moves on and it’s easier to go along with the motions as time passes but there’s not a day you don’t miss him. Not a day goes by where you don’t think of him. Sometimes at night when you wake you look at the sky, look at the moon and talk to him. He might not be there but you like to pretend he’s watching sometimes. 

It turned out you both had similar stories. You’d never even gotten the chance to fully tell him yours. The two of you had lived focussing on the lives you had now as opposed the earth you crawled out of and that haunted loneliness you awoke with. You can’t help but wonder that feeling, that emptiness is as close a feeling you got these days. You continued with the Nein while he lay buried. Or used to. Molly died but someone else returned in his stead; the one who ended up in the grave he crawled out of in the first place. Molly is dead and now with that face walks a man who can never be him. You’ve seen him-Lucien in flashes of visions before, faded memories that make you frightened of the past you never lived. It’s not your past after all. Someone else lived it in the body you now call yours. The person before is dead and gone. Same as Lucien should have been. It frightens you because what little you know, you know not what your predecessor was to Lucien, or who they were in general. What if he wants that version back? What if that version comes back? What if you cease to exist and this other person takes over? 

But then you met the devil himself. Lucien, what a curse to know him. He shares the same face as your Mollymauk but he is not the same. They share some traits, some little habits you recognise. Each and every one is a dagger to your heart. You think he noticed too. He called you by that name, the one that was never yours. It must have just slipped because the horror in your eyes had given you away. He quickly corrected himself. He didn’t call you by that name again but you swore you could hear it like a whisper upon the cold breeze of Eiselcross sometimes. Like molly Lucien is charming but everything about him is with a darker undertone. When he is charming it feels like a predator coaxing a prey right between their teeth. When he smiles it’s belittling or a calm before the storm, something laced in a fury you cannot begin to comprehend. Despite all of this, that same pull remains. That same pull that brought you to Molly, it calls you to Lucien. You don’t want to get close. Fire burns after all and you have a feeling Lucien is an inferno in disguise. 

Lucien can’t help himself though. You once meant the world to him. Well not you-you of course. The version of you he lost in his own demise. When he drew his first breath yet again, and you weren’t there. He’d have pulled you from the soil himself, dragged you right out of hell. You weren’t there. Someone else had taken your place. Someone new. A new you. The similarities are uncanny. The way you talk and move, it’s like a warped mirror and every time he gets a spark of hope that you might still be in there, he’s proven wrong. You’re not the person he knew. You’ll just have to be another means to an end at best. Another nuisance at worst. That doesn’t make it any easier. He’s not felt alive in his time beyond the veil but now you’re here so close yet so far away, he feels alive like never before, not since he got separated from you. You’re a candle and he’s the moth. He refuses to get burned. 

Then it comes down to it. A fight. He gave you a chance. You picked your side. You joined the Mighty Nein and abandoned him. You made your choice. He’ll deal with the ashes. He takes no pleasure in ending you but no matter what version; you’re a stubborn one and incredibly loyal. You had no loyalties to him, not anymore. Why should he hang onto his loyalties to a ghost? He let it all go even though that sounds easier than it was. It burned him to hurt you. With each injury he inflicted, he felt every single strain, each scream and cry of pain shattered his very soul into fragments. It’s alright or so he kept telling himself. He’d bring you back once this is over; the real you, the true you and the one he held so dearly. He’ll have you back. Not this fragment. 

Something within him shattered when he delivered that killing blow. You fell to your knees. You looked at him and he just saw sadness. You looked at your friends but he couldn’t care less about them. He took a good few hits in his distraction as that damned fragment you had grown attached to gained a little more control than he allowed. He watched the light drain from your eyes, your friends tried to rush towards you as you fell to your knees. You couldn’t breathe anymore. Lucien could feel something crack when you hit the ground and remained unmoving. He tried to move on and deal with your companions. In the end it would mean his own demise. They were too late to get you. When he fell, he met your eyes; never shut. Lucien would be dead. 

————

The Mighty Nein tried to resurrect you. It didn’t work. Not twice would they be so lucky. They took your body, had a funeral in true Mighty Nein fashion, and laid you at rest in the Blooming Grove to be watched over by Caduceus. They grieved you but their lives continued. Kingsley didn’t understand who you were. They tried to explain, explain who you were to Mollymauk. He got it. For some bloody reason he completely understood. When he first saw you you were dead and something within him felt missing, despite being surrounded by love in his resurrection, a piece of a puzzle he could not comprehend never truly fit together. When he saw you, he knew the missing piece had to do with you but the dead don’t just rise and the ritual had failed. You were truly gone. No one saw but for some reason tears did fall when the firbolg performed the burial rites. He didn’t even know you so why was he crying over you like he lost someone so near and dear to his heart? Like he lost a piece of himself. 

One night on the ship far off on the ocean with his captain and trickster partner in crime; the life he’d grown quite used to, something changed. Something in the very air he breathes. The world got a push in the right direction. He didn’t know why or how but somehow it made sense. Some tether pulled him back to that graveyard, told him to go there. Not long after, Jester was freaking out and the wizard was summoned; they had to get back to the mainland fast. They had to get to the Blooming Grove. No one had told him and despite this being the perfect opportunity to commandeer the ship he had longed to captain for himself, he couldn’t just let them go without him. He had to come along. He did. 

From the moment Kingsley stepped into that forest temple, where he saw a shellshocked individual seated on a stool staring into the abyss covered in dirt and a blanket, whatever piece of him he missed from the moment of his resurrection, returned and fell into place. That void within suddenly wasn’t so empty anymore. You hadn’t been responsive until his entrance, or so Clay had told them all. Kingsley approached you. You stared at him with such wonder and a recognition he must have held too in his first moments of life. You felt it too. Everything just made sense. You reached for him, just a finger, trembling and hesitant. The pad of that finger pressed against his cheek. There wasn’t much force behind it but were he standing instead of on his knees already, he might have fallen then and there. 

“M-Mo… Moon… Moon.” It took you some time to get the word out. 

“Moon?” Kingsley asked you though he did not expect a response. It took him while too to truly get to his senses and given the hour and your current state, you must have freshly crawled out of your grave. He feels sorry for you. 

“Moon.” You affirm and place your palm flat over his heart. You tap it. “Moon.” He looked towards the Mighty Nein for some explanation. The one he got, that might as well have broken his heart a little. And should you return to your senses, whoever you might be, he’ll be happy to hold it over your heart your first word implied you found him beautiful. 

This might just be the beginning of something beautiful. One thing is for sure. This’ll be a fresh start. You get to decide who you want to be. Like him you’ll be loved no matter what. He’ll make sure of it.

[a-menagerie]

A Small Gift for Kingsley

this has been a wip for too long and i finally missed my MN folks enough to finish this up - its short and sweet but i want more Kingsley content

“Just- it’s not a fancy gift or anything! So, don’t freak out on me.” You rush to say, shoving the gift wrapped box at him. Kingsley raises a brow at your rambling, looking at the gift in his hands. 

“Riiiiight.” He shook the box and frowned when no sound emerged. He peeled off the wrapping paper and stared down at the plain, wooden box in his hands. 

“Don’t um - just, put it on the ground.” You tell him then lean over and whisper the command word in his ear. Kingsley gives you an unimpressed look but sighs theatrically, uttering the command word at the box. It springs open, unfolding itself in a small 4-man boat. Kingsley looks between it and you in surprise

“Tadaaaa!” You say, a cheesy grin on your face as you gesture towards the boat. “Your very own boat!” 

“A boat…in a box?” Kingsley walks closer, nudging the boat with the tip of his boot.

“There’s another command word, to make it turn into a ship.” You explain. At the word ‘ship’, Kingsley’s eyes dart up to your face, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“My very own ship, huh? I almost thought my first ship would be…well, I certainly didn’t think it’d come to me in a box.” He laughs. 

“Well, I thought this could tide you over until we find you a true ship to captain.” You bumped your shoulder into his, grinning.

“Until we find me a ship?” Kingsley asks.

“You think I won’t help you get a ship, Captain?” You tease, stepping away and giving him a playful half-bow. He arches an eyebrow at you, reaching out and tugging you closer by your waist.

“I think I could get used to hearing you call me that. Has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?” Kingsley grins and cocks his head to the side. 

“Captain Kingsley Tealeaf, sailor extraordinaire.” You loop your arms around his neck. He leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. 

“As long as you’re my First Mate.” He says. 

“I suppose I can agree to that.”

[railroad-migraine]

Day 23. Under the oak tree 🎃

-> Kingsley Tealeaf x GN!Reader

Sometimes it's better off not knowing

~ Poet

Your mouth is filled with macaroons and sugared fruit, your hair lightly tousled by the late afternoon breeze that still whisks through the leaves overhead when Kingsley lowers his cup of summer wine and looks at you.

"Is this what friends do?"

The silence that answers him is almost deafening. Best friends, he wants you to say, perhaps even lovers. He would be happy with either, and he resists leaning forward to brush away the crumbs at the corner of your mouth when you dare meet his gaze.

"I don't know," you manage, sounding short of breath. And it's true, you don't - he isn't as playfully coy as Molly, nor as ruthless as Lucien. You're both still new to each other, sitting on a blanket together at the base of a tree older than you can guess.

After a moment, you reach out and hold a tiny pastry to his lips. A peace offering of some sort.

His hand curls around your wrist and he kisses your fingertips instead.

[demigoddessqueens]

Couple of requests

Fjord x Reader headcannons and then any head cannons for a Reader x Fjord x Jester x Kingsley polycule

One sea-fairing polycule coming up!

Being with Fjord….

He’s getting used to being open and genuinely loving with you.

The personal changes he’s gone under to achieve his own happiness, from Ukatoa to the Wild Mother, you’ve been by his side

Always feeling “different” or left out, Fjord comes to love you for being patient and gentle with him.

with Jester & Kingsley….

You and Jester just clicked naturally, and Fjord appreciates you two caring for him.

Kingsley is the fun in life who also helps you three make the most of it all, and knows about second chances which is Fjord trusts him too.

If it’s a bit of some TLC time, Fjord constantly melts or shivers at your touches.

Jester is the one you go to for the optimism in life. Fjord is the pillar of strength you all look to. Kingsley is the one who helps keep away the doubts you never realized

[size-politics]

https://kathleen-853.tengp.icu/vo/K3bpR84

https://kathleen-853.tengp.icu/vo/K3bpR84

[svnnywrites]

why is no one writing fics about him???

[saphirered]

Hello :), id love to request a kingsley x reader where theyre a member of his new pirate crew perhaps first mate after he steals that ship from fjord at the end of campain 2

Sorry for the wait on this one! Too many ideas to approach this request turned into procrastination but I finished it! It's pining, it's sweet and fluffy. Hope you like how it turned out! And right in time for the Mighty Nein reunited! 😘

He still doesn’t quite know how this happened or when and don’t get him started on the why’s because every time he tries listing them, he can’t put actual words to it; you’re just everything perfect. When did he turn into some fictional cliché? His fellow chaos maker tiefling would use this to fuel her next novel to be sure. Captain falls in love with his first mate. A match made in hell. Perfect. Just perfect. Kingsley’s tried to play it cool but during mealtimes he finds himself sit next to you, relishing in even just smalltalk. When you have a shift together he’ll be paying more attention to you than to what he’s supposed to be on watch for. When another totally unavoidable skirmish arises, he worries for your safety and always makes sure he’s within some kind of reachable range because he feels safer when you’re near. He trusts few people, and you are no exception. You’re all pirates after all. But unlike anyone else, he actually wants to trust you. He wants to be able to count on you, as you can count on him. Were he ever to tell you this, you’d laugh in his face of course. The last deckhand that did, you literally laughed in the poor man’s face. He’d rather not be verbally torn apart and take that wound to his heart. 

You look over the waves, your post at the helm is one you take seriously. You always have. You’re the goddamn first mate of this ship. You do your best to ignore the staring of your captain who is rather disinterested in the suggestions of the bosun, and favours simply nodding or humming along, when he looks past. He’s focussed on you. You feel heat rise to your cheeks but luckily the appearance of such could be brushed off as the harsh wind cutting at your face. Those ruby eyes, you cannot set out of your mind. Are you not doing your job correctly? Are your capabilities being brought in question? Is there doubt in your loyalty to this ship, to this crew? Did you do something wrong? Are you no longer worthy of this position? All these questions are easier to ask, to consider than to admit to the truth you’re denying; that’s the stare of admiration. There’s a tap on your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin. It’s just the helmsman ready to relieve you. 

You retreat into your own mind, build a shield to keep your thoughts from going rampant as you make your way down the steps onto the main deck. It’s probably a good thing you have got your sea legs because a particular wave has some catch themselves just in time. Kingsley, who you missed was midway towards you, lunges and barely manages to catch himself on the railing of the stairs. You didn’t even realise he had moved, but now he stands in your path. Quickly you respond out of reflex, catch his other arm, and help him back to stable feet. Everything around feels numb but the moment you touch him, feel his hand wrap around your lower arm, as you balance him, your cold skin burns and find yourself short of breath, eyes wide. 

“Looks like I can count on my first mate to save me collecting my teeth from the deck.” Kingsley appears as short of breath as you. The moment you’re sure he’s stable again, you pull your arm from his grasp and step around him without another word, making for the stairs down below deck. The tiefling watches you go, and you move so fast, or perhaps his mind has slowed that much. He can’t say anything else, do anything else. You’re gone and he won’t follow. 

So ends another day. And he’ll spend the next night staring at the ceiling of his cabin, unable to take his mind off you; the electricity that ran through his veins when you caught him, and the numbness when you let go. It may sound cliche but when he stood so near to you, when you held onto him, he felt as if he had never seen the world in colour, had never used his senses to their full extend, suddenly everything made sense yet nothing at all did but he couldn’t care less, and when you rushed away, you took that feeling with you and he felt lost again. He’ll day dream about that feeling because he could not find sleep until the early hours of morning. He’s completely and utterly in love with his first mate. No way around it anymore. 

————

Kingsley dodges a punch as someone tosses a chair at another drunkard. The tavern took a turn for the better when an incredibly dull night turned into a bar fight, and a glorious one at that. He’s pretty sure he’ll be covered in bruises, the bloodstains he’ll never get out of his shirt, his knuckles are busted, and his nose just might be broken, still he is filled with cheer and adrenaline. The next punch to the gut sparks it only further as he counters by grabbing the arm, getting close and delivering a punch straight to the face of his opponent. Knocked out cold. Next. He’s distracted when he sees a familiar flash resembling your shape, legs wrapped around someone’s shoulders as they desperately try to throw you off, but you hold on tight, even when your back hits that thankfully sturdy table. This time you let go and deliver a perfect kick to the throat and get back up to tackle the next one coming at you. Then for just a brief second things go dark as pain erupts through his head. He recovers, looking for the source to see the blurred form of some kind of brute. Did he just get punched in the face? His ears are ringing. Just barely does he manage to deflect the brunt of the next hit. 

You let out a battle cry as you kick low, high and strike. You’ll have to admit that when this fight started you were exhausted and didn’t feel like getting into the fray. You don’t exactly know why it started but your captain seemed to be one half of it and then it became crew against crew, and the rest of the bar got pulled in. Your exhaustion faded quickly when some poor sod made the wrong call and made you spill your drink. Screw exhaustion. That’s what you told yourself because in reality, you felt your blood boil when Kingsley took a foul hit. You’ve been on a good track record for the past few minutes. Sustained some damages yourself, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You’ll probably be sore in the morning and have some bruises to show for the eventful evening but such is your life. Everyone needs a good bar fight every once in a while. Every once in a while you’d check up on your captain, search for him in the room. When you have the opportunity to do next, you see him cornered, disoriented and opposing a man twice his size. He takes another hit and is thrown against the table, it shattering beneath the impact of his weight. 

The groan on his breath is cut short as air escapes his lungs and he’s coughing. He barely has time to recover or get up when he’s grabbed by the front of his shirt, the movement registering a second or two later than it should. The brute in front of him has no intentions of letting him go it seems. Squinting he’s pretty sure this is the first mate of the captain he went fist to cuffs with in the first place. Maybe this wasn’t one of his better ideas. Does he have any regrets? No. That captain is short a couple of teeth. Serves ‘em right. Though, given his place now, he might be short a couple of teeth. The punch is incoming and while he does his best to deflect, there isn’t much he can do to turn this into a favourable position for him, so he prepares for the impact best he can though he doubts he’ll be awake to make any counter move. Then, it rains something, shatters. Glass. Glass shatters above him. His opponent goes dazed and the hold weakens. Next a fist swings to bring home the attack and the brute hits the floor with a heavy thud. He’s grabbed by the front of his shirt again and when he thinks the next blow is coming, he just focusses in on your face. With force you get him to his feet, never letting go of the red stained linen as you pull him along, dancing around other fighting patrons until the cool night’s air hits him. He hears shouts behind, but you run, and thus force him along until the sounds muffle and he walks the plank onto the ship. 

Out of breath you set the tiefling on one of the crates on deck as you bend over, take a deep breath and straighten again. Kingsley watches as you run a hand through your hair, and wipe some remnants of blood from your cheek. Your gaze turns to him, analytical. You check him for injury, step close, hold his chin, move his face, touch some scrapes to which he hisses in discomfort, then look him straight on. You hold his nose between both your index fingers and give him a serious look. He can feel the crunch back in his skull as you reset it. He tastes metal on his tongue. Blood. You press a scrap of cloth to his nose and when his response is too slow for your liking, grab his hand and make it take over the position you held it in. 

“You good?” You ask. You sound mostly neutral, as if you would have after any fight he’s gotten into. There’s a hint of exhilaration. Good to know you had your fun too. What strikes him though is the concern that’s hidden beneath. You’re actually concerned for his wellbeing? 

“Yeah.” He groans leaning back only for you to interfere. Right. He’s sitting on a crate. “Saved me yet again. What would I do without you?” 

“You’ve got brain damage. And you’re drunk.” You roll your eyes.

“I’d hate to tell you, but I’m perfectly sober. The brain damage? Now that, I won’t make any statements on.” Ever the witty remarks you snort and cross your arms. 

“Oh really? Captain Kingsley, started a bar fight perfectly sober? What would the people say?” You retort. Maybe it’s the buzz of what little alcohol you did manage to consume, or the adrenaline beginning to wear off but it’s so easy again. You don’t feel like you’re running away from a truth right now. This moment, is just so easy. 

“There’s the sass I love.” He grins. He’s missed this. The times where you’re so easy going. You’ve been avoiding him, you’ve been distant and he’s missed this nature of yours, the one you reserve only for public settings and anything not to do with your person. And yet you close up again after that comment. Your shoulders move in and you rub your arm, only to be reminded of the forming bruises when you find your skin tender. 

“Do I want to know why this fight even started?” You try to change the subject, ignore the comment, pretend it was never said. Love. Love. Love. The word echoes through your mind. Kingsley sighs deeply and the usual attitude dissipates for a slightly more serious one.

“I don’t think you’ll like the answer.” His eyes cast downward. At first you’re brushing it off like a child being caught doing something they shouldn’t but then you see it for what it really is; avoidance. Like you’re avoiding certain things. Your heart clenches. You bite your tongue. No more running. May this tail-end of an adrenaline rush give you the courage to see this through. 

“Humour me.” He looks up and you see his eyes. Gone is the playfulness he usually displays, or the self-confidence and pride. The fuel of an epic bar fight is not enough to linger. 

“A captain from another ship had some choice of words about someone I happen to care about.” Kingsley admits. “I asked the captain if he’d like to take back his words. He did not.” 

“So you punched him in the face?” He drops the rag from his nose, the bleeding stopped and wipes away the remaining blood best he can before he simply shrugs. It’s not like he’s going to deny it and he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. 

“They were some very offensive words. I take it to heart when my first mate is brought into question.” You thought you could brush over the implication it might have been you, not wanting to get any false hope but this blatant confirmation, that’s it. A small smile creeps onto your features and a warm and fuzzy feeling spreads through out. 

“So what you’re saying is, you knocked out another captain because they insulted me, spiked the ire of their crew until a tavern brawl erupted in which you took a further beating to the point I had to save your ass before their first mate could return the favour?” You step closer and closer until you’re right in front of him. Kingsley looks up at you nodding along and getting smugger with the second. That pride returns. 

“When you say it like that-“ You press your lips to his, your hands falling to his cheeks when he responds to your affections gleefully. Without breaking the kiss he scoots over on the crate and makes space for you. You sit next to him, thigh pressed against his, as you feel a warm palm against your cheek, and the other brushes along your arm, onto your shoulder until it settles on the small of your back and pulls you closer. 

Many things run through his head and most thoughts come as fast as they go because he has no room for anyone but you in his mind. At surface it’s easy. The taste of your lips; remnants of the ale mixed with some metallic taste of blood either yours, or his or both. Then when he feels daring enough to brush his tongue against you and you respond favourably he continues. He feels your arms move from his cheeks where they cupped his face curve around until you wrap your arms around his neck and allow yourself to move closer against him. He runs his fingers along your cheek, into your hair where they tangle, the other pressing against the small of your back, brushing along in gentle circles. Secondly words finally appear in his head, cohesive strings of thought; why did he wait so bloody long? This now, this moment is a blessing but if this is how you feel, and might have felt ever since you retreated from him, he should have done this earlier, should have confronted you earlier and cleared up that misunderstanding. 

Thirdly, Kingsley wants this moment to last forever. He’d fight an entire armada on his own if it meant you would grace him a kiss, even just a single one. But you do pull apart. Forehead against his, eyes still closed, he takes in the proximity to you. previously when you had a moment of physical closeness, you’d bolt the first chance you got. He hopes you won’t. He hopes you’ll stay. But he still makes it clear; if you think this a mistake, something you regret now, you can. He would never hold something like that against you. Sure it would hurt his feelings, but such is the way of life. It’s not just his word that matters here. If you are not one-hundred percent behind this, then it simply should not happen. He wants to be sure you don’t feel there’s no way back, that you feel trapped or like you have to but then he feels your lips peck his once final time before you pull back, unwrap your arms from him as he lets go of you. What he does not expect is for you to grab onto one of his hands, and pick the rag with the other, only to press it to his nose again.

“Your nose bleeding again.” You try to hide your gentle laughs as he just shakes his head in amusement causing you to reach out quickly and hold his head still. Kingsley responds but you can’t make out the words so when you raise an eyebrow he pulls the rag away once more, holding you at the wrist ever so gently. 

“Injury. Forever to ruin the moment. At least I have a good healer.” 

“I’m a pirate. Not a healer.” You deadpan. “If you’d like me to go fetch the healer I’m sure he’s deep in his cups but should be perfectly-“ Kingsley grabs your hand when you poke at one of the forming bruises. 

“Oh, you think you’re funny now, aren’t you? Don’t backtalk to your captain.” You wipe away some more blood, and prevent any further response. 

“My dear captain seems to be incapacitated.” You hum. He pulls away the rag again. This time the bleeding seems to stop and you feel safe to put it down.

“Well then, first mate. I’m pretty sure that puts you in charge. What are your orders?” You grin and tap your chin. 

“I’m sure I can think of something.” You purse your lips every so lightly and Kingsley takes the opportunity to peck them in jest. He’ll have some ideas. Some inspiration for you. The ice has broken and with it all previous tensions. The morning can only tell how things will be when you’re both down from your adrenaline highs and when the world has returned to normal, or as normal as can be on this ship, given that Kingsley did just spark a conflict between his crew and another but he couldn’t care less. He lives in the moment and this is a good one. You’re living in the moment too. You can talk later about how much your lives have been one romantic cliche for the past few weeks. 

[a-menagerie]

Authors note: this is some very self-indulgent rambling about reader with Molly & Kingsley. It may not make much sense but I hope at lease some of you enjoy it. Inspired in part by @railroad-migraine ‘s Molly fic “It’s Time You Come Home”.

You had been mourning Mollymauk for longer than you’d gotten to love him.

The thought hit you out of nowhere, your glass slipping from your hand. You waved away the concerned glances, apologizing to Caduceus for making a mess. As you cleaned, you worked to keep the tears at bay.

Days like this, you wished you’d stayed behind with the carnival, convincing Molly to do the same. Still, you knew that would never have happened. Molly was a force to be reckoned with and you would’ve followed him anywhere.

Now, you had all followed Molly, no, Lucien from the grave and across Eiselcross. Any hope you had of Molly still being in there was dashed almost immediately. Lucien was cold and all sharp edges, nothing seemed to remain of your lover.

Fighting the creature that had been Mollymauk was almost a relief. All your pent up anger and sorrow powered you through the fight and as their body collapsed to the ground, you found yourself suddenly empty and dropped to your knees.

You’d never thought you’d get Molly back. When the resurrection failed, you’d already accepted it. But when vines and flowers encompass the body, red eyes open with a strangled breath, you feel your heart start to pound. He glances around, slowly recognizing those around him before his eyes finally land on you.

“Home.”

You have your arms around him before you can think, cradling him to yourself as you cry. Slowly, his hands raise to hold you, leaning more heavily into your hold.

-

Kingsley is not Mollymauk. He doesn’t remember much: a woman in a red coat, some vague sense of familiarity of Yasha, and…you. Not all of you, not all of what you meant to Mollymauk. But you were warm, familiar, and even if he couldn’t remember you, Kingsley could see how easy it would be to love you.

It was…strange. Kingsley was adamant to figure out who he wanted to be, free from the shackles of Lucien and Molly. So, he ran from you. Not literally, of course, but he found himself avoiding your company. It was hard to be with you, knowing that you loved who he used to be.

And yet, he kept finding himself seeking you out. He’d return from the sea with Fjord and Jester and immediately return to your side, presenting you with trinkets and prizes he’d collected along his way. After seizing his own ship, Kingsley offered you a place beside him at the helm.

You join him. Maybe you feel like you owe something to him, to look after him in a way you ultimately weren’t able to do for Molly. Maybe it’s a selfish thing, to keep him in your life. But maybe…you come to simply enjoy Kingsley’s company.

-

“Why are you here?” Kingsley asked one day, when he’s at the helm of his ship and you’re leaning over the railing nearby. You glance to him in surprise.

“Like…on this ship?” He nods. “You asked me to come along.”

“I know that.” There’s a long pause, long enough that you go back to staring out over the sea. When Kingsley speaks again, you can barely hear him. “Why come with me?”

You mull over your words as you walk to him, humming in thought.

“Because I wanted to help you and I care for you a lot.” You see Kingsley clench his jaw.

“You care for Mollymauk. I’m not him.” He keeps his eyes on the sea, refusing to look at you.

“I know. I loved Molly. But I like you too, Kingsley. I don’t want you to be Molly, I want you to be you. And I want to be here to see you.”

After a pause, you ask, “Why did you ask me to come along?”

He doesn’t answer.

Kingsley wants to know what it’d be like to be truly loved by you.

-

Years pass and once Kingsley feels comfortable enough, he reads through Beau’s journals to learn more about Mollymauk. And in the process, you. He’s witnessed your love firsthand but still, the journals surprise him. Kingsley tells you straight that Molly didn’t deserve your love. You laugh and assure him that it’s you that didn’t deserve Molly.

He’s not really sure he agrees with that.

-

You have been loving Kingsley longer than you knew Molly.

The thought doesn’t sting as much as you expected, though there’s still a dull ache. You feel certain that Molly wouldn’t be upset with you for moving on - in fact, he’d probably encourage it. He’d hate it if he were the reason you weren’t happy.

So you lean into the feelings, no longer holding back the love you feel for Kingsley. You can’t tell if he notices (oh, he does). You blindside him with a kiss to the cheek and he’s left off-kilter for the rest of the day. It becomes a bit of a slow dance between the two of you, feeling out how the two of you may fit together.

-

Kingsley’s not a fan of the tattoos littering his body. He had no choice in them and grew to resent them. But there were gaps where red eyes had once been, a gap on the back of his hand, and Kingsley knew exactly what he wanted to fill that space with.

He presents you his hand one day, when the ship is docked off a small isle and it’s just the two of you sitting on the deck, legs dangling off the side. You cradle Kingsley’s hand in your own and examine the new tattoo. Twin flames circling each other in the very center, one flame dark red and the other a light blue. And surrounding the flames was a pair of hands. Your hands, of course, etched onto his skin.

Kingsley explains it to you, though he’s almost a little embarrassed. The flames, he thinks, are obvious: they represent Mollymauk and himself. And how could it be anyone’s hands but yours? You, who loved Molly so fiercely. You, who have cared for Kingsley so vehemently.

You bring his hand to rest over your heart and assure him that you love him too. You’ve loved him for so long, but you didn’t want to put that pressure onto him, not when he was discovering himself and finishing his place in the world. Kingsley just stared at you in wonder.

“Can I kiss you?” He blurts out, his other hand rising to cup your cheek. You laugh lightly and lean into his hand.

“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

-

“I was jealous of a dead man.” Kingsley says out into the dark do the captain’s quarters. You were both lying in bed, in a delightful almost-asleep haze. You raise your head from his chest to look at him with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean?” He’s laying with one arm underneath his head but he raises his other hand to card through your hair.

“I was jealous of Mollymauk.” Kingsley admits. “He had this huge family that loved him, who went to the ends of the world for him. And he had you.”

He laughs a bit at himself. You press a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“That’s why I invited you on the ship. I was too selfish to go without you. I wanted you to myself.” He’s flushed a bit, though his gaze on you is unwavering. This time you give him a real kiss before you settle back down against his chest.

“Well, you have me.”

[whchenlvr]

Hii, could I request Jake, Dean, Eunchan, Grape and Kingsley and Wolf with a s/o who LOVES to dance in the rain? S/o loves getting soaked and it feels so nice when they dance.

Sorry if I asked for too much chars, but like- Anyway! Idk what dances tho. Maybe Ballet?

I LOVE YOUR WORK BTW❤️✨❤‍🔥

THANK YOU SO MUCH i hope you enjoy!! 💓💓

dancing in the rain with him ;

weak hero union x gn!reader

jake ji

➤ jake would race you to the biggest puddle you can find

➤ he would grab you and lift you in the air and jokingly threaten to drop you into the puddle—fully dressed, might i add

➤ i feel like you’d ask him to dance with you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he’d be super cute about it tho and the tips of his ears may even turn pink

➤ he knows there’s no saying no to you, so he takes you by both hands and together you spin each other around and around <3

dean kwon

➤ i have the biggest unknown soft spot for dean <3

➤ he’d probably reject your offer to play in the rain at first, but once he sees you staring sadly out the window, he gives in, silently taking your hand and pulling you outside

➤ you’d be jumping in joy, spinning and laughing up at the sky as dean stand on the porch smiling at you

➤ “come dance with me!” you’d shout over the heavy downpour, and finally he’d hold out a hand to let you pull him into the rain. it takes some convincing, but you’d totally get dean to pick you up and spin you by the waist

eunchan hong

➤ a brat. an absolute total brat

➤ he’d be all “no, y/n. i’m totally not going in the rain with you!” then he would go outside to get completely soaked and run back in to give you a wet hug

➤ since you’re already wet now, you join him in the rain and instead of dancing together, i think the two of you would have a splash fight

➤ like, you’d both put those big rubber boots on and kick puddles of water at each other until your pants and completely drenched in water

grape lee

➤ on the outside, grape tries to look disgusted at the thought of dancing in the rain, but on the inside he’s already jumping in puddles outside

➤ you give his hand a gentle squeeze and promise no one will see, and that’s enough for him to hop off the couch and into a rain jacket

➤ this would totally be one of those cute “i can’t dance” moments where you have to teach grape how to have proper fun in the rain

➤ you’d take his hand in yours and position his hands where they need to be on your body, then when his face is bright red, the two of you would dance prettily in the rain <3

kingsley kwan

➤ despite his cold exterior, kingsley would absolutely melt if you ask him to dance in the rain with you

➤ at first he’d be practical and try to talk you out of it, offering inside alternatives, but you’d stand your ground. he agrees once you promise to wear a warm rain jacket

➤ only after kingsley is sure that you’re completely bundled up does he let you take his hand and pull him out into the rain

➤ he’s only uncomfortable for a moment, because when he looks over to find you smiling up into the sky, he gets all warm and fuzzy inside

➤ kingsley would be the one to offer his hand to you. he’d pull you into his chest and reach you how to waltz cause he seems like the type to just randomly know how to waltz

wolf keum

➤ you love the rain. wolf hates it

➤ it starts raining one night, and you’re so excited that you run out completely in your clothes as you jump and spin in the puddles

➤ “wolf, come dance with me!” “no.” you: :(

➤ when your begging proves itself to be useless, you practically have to drag him out of the safety of your house. your surprised he didn’t start melting

➤ still, once he’s wet, wolf finally gives in and holds your hand as you spin yourself like a ballerina

[demigoddessqueens]

WHAT IFFFF , kingsley tealeaf x pregnant reader. Just thinking about how everything would go down makes me giggle!! KIngsley: HEY VetH- Veth: You never come to me for advice oh no

😂 😆 😝 Veth is like “ok now I know things are serious”

First off, Kingsley is ecstatic to find out there’s a little one on the way.

Then the nerves set in and he starts to realize what this means and what’ll change. Life on the sea may not be the safest for a tiny one and he’s rethinking a lot of things

Every other member of The Nein is happy for you and Kingsley. Why wouldn’t they be? When you visit with Nott, she’s thrilled for you both but also senses the nerves from Kingsley.

She makes casual conversation with you both and just eases into the highs of lows of parenthood. “It’s hard at first but you get used to it, especially when you have the right one by your side.”

It’s a bit of an encouraging conversation with the goblin, the do’s and don’t’s of parenting, the antics that come along with it, the sleepless nights, etc.

You’re a bit worried but oddly enough you feel reassured by Nott’s experience, knowing that you’re not alone in this.

Unbeknownst to you, Nott gives Kingsley a reassuring hand squeeze, her own way of saying “you got this”

[railroad-migraine]

Hey Poet ♥️ I had to put my bird and companion of 12 years to sleep earlier today... I was hoping it would be okay to request Molly, Kingsley, Ashton and Caduceus comforting a Ranger SO (friend in Cad’s case) who had their beast companion pass away? I hope it’s not too grim of a prompt, thanks a lot either way! And thank you for what you do, your lovely writing brings joy to many people :)

Oh darling I'm so sorry. We also recently had a family pet put to sleep and it is very hard, but know that you provided your lil friend a wonderful life and that's something to make it easier as time passes 🩶

Comforting Ranger!GN!Reader

Ashton 💚

Is the shoulder to cry on that you've always needed. They're a strong presence, someone reliable to lean on, something physical and real to keep you grounded and help you not lose yourself in feelings.

They say they have difficulty with words, but Ashton surprises even himself with the soft tone and even softer things he offers you. Little phrases of encouragement, of how things will get better, and how you're not going to carry this alone. You have him and friends who care about you - he ignores the hot feeling in his face when your teary eyes meet his upon the confession - and pulls you into their side with a soft "I got you."

-

Caduceus 💜

Arguably the best person on the list to console you after losing someone you held dear. If it's something you'd like, he'll organise a little ceremony - allow memories of the good and fun moments shared with your companion to take centre stage. It's a happy occasion, with friends in attendance, a celebration of their life, their love, and how they made a home in your heart.

Cad takes time out of his day to sit with you, share tea and treats and the quiet tranquility of his porch, content to give you silent support but even more eager to offer counsel if that's what you seek. He understands how you're feeling, and guides you through them with careful, attentive ease.

-

Molly 💜

He knows what it's like to mourn a life, be that of a friend's or the past that he will never truly know. He makes sure that as you're processing this change in your life, that you continue to look after yourself. He ensures that you eat, even if you don't feel hungry. He washes your hair and cleans your face, helps you change into fresh clothes, coaxes you outdoors to feel warm sunlight on your skin. He wants to remind you to keep living, to enjoy it just as your pet beast did.

Life moves on. It always will. Your animal came into your life unexpectedly, just as you came into Molly's life. He's there for you, to get you through the day, the week, the month, and beyond. It happens gradually, as all wounds heal, but eventually he sees you smile at him more and he knows it hurts a little less. He smiles back, all teeth and pride for you.

-

Kingsley 💜

He's still discovering the big emotions that come with experiencing life. Grief is one of them. He fumbles in the beginning, and is scared to say anything in the fear of hurting you further, but he feels more confident after you melt into his arms and let him hold you for who knows how long. He realises later that a distraction can help further along healing.

So that's what Kingsley does. He spends more time with you, takes you sailing and has you steer the ship (with his professional supervision of course). He drags you into dances along the desk and sings you songs before bed. He holds your hand as you fall asleep, and tells you how grateful he is that you're there with him. Thanks you for giving him that - just as you have your familiar that.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: what they say instead of i love you.

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: why is everything i write for the red army?! um easy answer dont answer that I KNOW WHY i love them and i dont know the black army that well at all ok THANK YOU BYE

lancelot says “why do you care about me?” to tell you that caring for him isn’t necessary, that he doesn't need to be held, that he can bear the weight of the world. he says it to you because he doesn’t want you to get involved. if you were to be hurt, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself. he needs to be stronger, he needs to hold on, he needs to make things better for you.

jonah says “there aren’t enough strawberries on this!” because he wants you to have only the best of everything he can give. it’s a bit embarrassing to be pampered like this, and he knows you feel that way, but he can’t help himself. if you want to indulge in his favorite dish with him, it has to be perfect, just like you.

edgar says “let me hold you” because he still isn’t sure if he should. you’ve made it plenty clear that you still want to be with him, through thick and thin and anything that comes your way, but he has blood on his hands that he’ll never wash off. your acceptance, to him, is like saying “i love you too.”

zero says “please be safe” because he only ever wishes to see you smile. he knows it’s impossible to protect you from everything, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to try, from wanting to do his absolute best. he loves you so much, so very dearly, that he wants nothing but the best for you now and forever.

kyle says “take care of yourself.” he doesn’t say please because he isn’t asking, he’s demanding that you stay healthy and happy and safe, because he never wants to see you in his clinic unless it's for annual checkups. you’re the last person he wants to see suffering, the last he wants to see bleeding, the last he wants to see frowning.

[swift-writes]

Yours (Gravik X F!Reader) - NSFW!

Warnings: Smut, Bondage, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Good Boy Kink, Mummy Kink.

Not Proofread

——————————————————————

“We can’t sleep until the mole is found, Mia!” Gravik was pacing around my room in the compound in only his boxers and a tank top, it was 1:30am. “They’re really starting to get in my nerves, this plan can’t go wrong now.” He ground his teeth together in frustration, digging his nails into his palms and eventually settling in a chair, spreading his legs wide.

I was nervous, it was hard to pin the blame on someone else when I was the mole myself, I’m lucky that Gravik trusts me for now. “I’m sure it was Pagon, you saw how much he was trying to deter your plans.” I stood up, and walked towards him in the chair. I knelt down and rubbed my hands up and down his thighs, hoping to distract him from his investigation.

“It seems to easy don’t you think, the mole wouldn’t reveal themself like that infront of everyone, he was my 2nd in command and clearly wanted to embarrass me infront of everyone else.” He was clearly angry now, his Welsh accent was growing thicker and I could hear the saliva sloshing with his words.

“Well you can’t find the mole if you aren’t well rested can you?” I slid my finger up the leg of his boxers, slightly teasing the underside of his balls. He grunted and weakly thrusted his hips.

“What’re you doing Mia?” He was staring directly into my eyes, clearly trying not to show his desperation and pleasure.

“Just some stress relief, do you not like it.” I advanced further, sliding my hand until my wrist rested on his inner thigh and my fist was secured tightly round his shaft.

“I- No, it’s great.” He thrusted his hips harder this time, his length sliding through my fingers, leaving my hands rested against his crotch.

“Do you want me to keep going, I can take charge if you want.” I smirked, not just because my plan was working but because I was finally doing what I wanted to with Gravik.

“Yes, God please. Just make me feel like this, keep making me feel good.” I almost lost control as the pleasure dragged raspy whimpers from his throat, making my core increasingly wet.

“Get on the bed then big boy, let me help you out.” He obeyed immediately, peeling off his tank top and following with his tight boxers. He climbed onto the bed on his knees and I couldn’t resist to keep my hands off him: I slide my hands down his flexed, muscular back and squeezed his ass, almost kneading it’s softness in my hand. His whimpers were causing an eargasm I didn’t know I needed.

Once he was laid down, I reached for some rope I had nearby from one of my training sessions and commanded him to put his hands together on the bar that served as my headboard. I tied his hands to it and did the same to his legs at the bottom of the bed.

His hips were thrusting into the air, his body desperate for my touch as he squirmed against his restraints. I grasped his cock lightly in my fist, straddling his thighs to stop his hips moving. “Is this mine?” I asked, teasing him as I swiped my thumb over the tip and lightly squeezed him.

He was struggling against his binds, panting and gasping for breath. “Yes, yes. It’s yours, all yours.” His tongue slipped from his mouth, letting him pull in some needed air.

“Mmmmm, good. I like the sound of that.” I stripped my clothes and leant down, pressing my body against his legs before taking his tip into my my mouth and sucking hard, as if I was trying to milk everything from his balls.

I could tell the ropes were going to mark him, he was struggling hard, forced to submit to the pleasure he was feeling. “Ughhh.” He let out a gargled groan as I inhaled the rest of his cock until his balls rested against my chin and my nose mashed itself against his tickling happy trail. His unholy noises only served as fuel to my lustful fire and I bobbed my head, willingly choking myself on his meat as I pushed Gravik’s body to the edge.

His body was slowing its struggles but his voice was making noises I didn’t think a skrull could make. When he was audibly near his peak, I pulled off, giving one last teasing lick to his tip before letting him struggle.

“Please… please. I need to come, don’t leave me on the edge.” He arched his back and groaned, trying to rut against the air.

“You need to prove that your going to be a good boy for me, how are you going to do that?” I slightly slid up his body, grasping his cock and slapping it against my soaked folds. He whimpered and quietly mumbled an answer. “Can you repeat that baby?” I know that he’s asking me to ride his cock but I decided to string him along a bit more. “One more time baby, mummy can’t hear you.” As he began to quiver his lips in speech, I slide the rest of the way up his body, feeling his abs grind against my vagina and his pecs slap softly against my thighs. I then slid on to his face before he could finish his speech and slotted my hips against his face, letting his lips finish their movements against my own lewd ones.

“Ughhhh, I think this is definitely going to prove it. Don’t you?” I ground my hips against his face, muffling his mumbles and letting all the vibrations add to my own pleasure. His tongue was lapping at me hard, desperate to get drunk on my juices. I pulled off before he could get too much of a taste and noticed his arms desperately trying to pull free in an attempt to hold me against his face.

I chuckled, tracing my fingertip over his heaving chest and straining abs as he tried to regain his breath. I reached up with my other hand and slid my thumb between his lips, using my other fingers to the wipe the mess from around his mouth. “I think you’ve proved yourself, haven’t you?” He enthusiastically nodded, not daring to move his lips from my thumb.

I slid myself back down his body, straddling his hips and lightly stroking his erection over my slick folds. His mouth was quivering from the sensation, not struggling anymore in an attempt to appear compliant. His eyes were glossy and desperate, my slow strokes increasing his urgency to release. “Please mummy.” I chuckled, not because I’d managed to get him off my scent in his investigation, but because I had him whimpering and submissive underneath me.

The seductive noises combined with the pretty movements of his chest and tensing thighs and my urgency for him eventually grew over my need to tease him. I lined myself up above his crotch and slowly slid onto him, feeling the stretch from his girth, despite the slick that had formed in my walls. I groaned as he whimpered and leant down, pressing my face into his glistening chest, the smell of sweat and musk filling my nose.

His length pushed deeper inside me than anything I had used or people I had had before. It slid onto my sweet spot, pressing deeply before slightly passing it. I whimpered feebly, gnawing on the soft skin of his pectorals and licking the hard nipples. I weakly lifted my hips before pushing them back down, my energy already spent even though Gravik had only been inside me for 30 seconds.

I screamed suddenly when Gravik changed his skin to a skrull, expanding his cock inside me and breaking his binds before turning back to his disguise. I whimpered against his chest, my walls clamped down on his cock as he used his hands to grip my ass, thrusting up roughly. I screamed and gagged as if my throat was choking on him again. I was loud enough that multiple people in the compound must have woken up.

“GRAVIK!” I screamed, clawing at his arms and chest for stability. He swapped our positions and I was placed on my back, my legs swung over the hunk above me’s shoulders. His thrusts were fast, rough and unforgiving, making me jealous of all the skrulls that had a better chance of being with him forever. I reached up, my whole arm shaking as the bed rocked loudly against the wall, and pulled his face towards mine, his chest to my breasts.

He smirked like a lustful demon and pushed his panting tongue between my waiting lips. The kiss was harsh and unrelenting, our lips slobbering over the other person’s as his chiselled v line collided roughly with my hips. He pulled off, licking his lips deliciously before growling and pushing himself faster for the final stretch.

The bed was smashing against the wall now, chipping the wooden parts and clanging the metal parts. There were a few knocks on the door, asking if I was ok. Gravik replied for me, “JUST ONE FUCKING MINUTE.” He screamed at the door, never taking his diluted eyes of my wide ones as he pounded me deeper into the mattress. My voice box couldn’t muster a scream loud enough to vocalise my pleasure. I was forced to claw at his sculpted body or pull him further into my with my legs around his hips.

5 minutes later, my eyes were dropping as exhaustion flooded over me, my whole core overstimulated from every inch of Gravik’s cock. He, on the other hand, was livelier than ever, forcing each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Over our sexual din, I could hear murmurs outside the door, women giggling over the thought of Gravik and men reprimanding their leader. The man above me paid no attention as his hips began to stutter and his throat gargled. He pressed a kiss to my lips, not pulling off as his dick swelled inside me, pushing as deep as he could, his balls drew up against my ass and he filled my pussy with his thick, milky seed.

I whimpered as he instantly pulled out, slipped on his boxers and tugged open the door. “What!” He commanded, his Welsh accent making me twitch on the bed hysterically. The people outside stuttered as they stared at his almost-naked body, the fresh scratches all over his torso and arms, his shaking thighs, soaked beard, swollen lips and half erect cock in his boxers. The silence was deafening, no one had a word to say so he slammed the door and joined me in bed again, removing his boxers to hold me as intimately and freely as possible.

I curled up against his chest in a foetal position, purring against his body. “Your mine aren’t you baby, my little mole forever.”

I didn’t even care that he knew, I had just been ruined by him and nothing else mattered. “Yes I’m yours.”

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[sporadically-writing]

Fear of the Past

Pairing: Kingsley Tealeaf x Reader, Past!Mollymauk Tealeaf x Reader, Good Friend Caduceus Clay

Warnings: Potential spoilers for The Mighty Nein Reunited

Word Count: 1,070

“Caduceus?” you ask, interrupting the firbolg’s gardening.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Caduceus turns, taking in your nervous body language immediately. “Sure,” he says, handing you a small gardening tool, “As long as you don’t mind helping me with these vegetables.”

You take it, happy to help and have something to do with your hands besides twiddling your thumbs. “Sure!”

Caduceus quietly gardens with you for a moment, giving you the time to find the words you want to say.

“Sooooo…”

“So” he says.

“Sooo,” you begin again, “it’s been a while since we’ve all been together.” 

“Yeah,” Caduceus agrees, “It’s nice to see everybody again. Sorry I couldn’t make for the whole-”

“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him, “You and your family had a lot going on around here. Besides, something told me you wouldn't have been comfortable on a boat again. You had your fair share of that before.”

Caduceus chuckles. “Yeah. I’m sensing this isn’t what you wanted to talk about though.”

Your nervousness returns. It was one thing to battle these feelings in your head by yourself, it was a whole other thing to confide them with someone else, but here you go.

“You’re right,” you sigh, “I- I know you aren’t really the person to ask about this kind of thing but, honestly, you’re the only one I think I can really talk to about this.”

“Why’s that, if you don’t mind me asking” Caduceus says, pulling at a particularly entrenched piece of vegetation. 

“Well, Fjord and Caleb have their own romantic problems to be worried about, Jester and Veth would try to “fix it” by setting up a date, Beau would just make fun of me and I don’t think Yasha would have the sort of answers I’m looking for.”

“There’s a pretty important exclusion in that list” Caduceus notices.

“Yeah…” you respond.

“I see what’s going on now.”

“I just… I don’t know how to tell him how I feel without him worrying about Molly.”

“I see,” Caduceus says, growing a touch more serious. He sets his tools down and turns to face you fully. “I was a bit after Molly’s time, obviously, so I can’t really speak to what your experience was with him but, I can ask you this. Do you feel like your feelings for Kingsley are in any way residual from what you felt for Molly?”

“I used to think so.”

“Okay” Caduceus says, signaling for more.

“But… the more I got to know Kingsley as his own person outside of the other two, I think I feel in love all over again.”

“That’s great” Caduceus says, “Why don’t you just tell him that?”

“Caduceus.”

“What?”

“I can’t just do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I- I’m scared.”

Caduceus smiles softly at you. “I can understand that.” He reaches over and grabs one of your hands and says, “But all things considered, I don’t think you have anything to really be scared of. You took on an entire floating city, brokered peace between two opposing nations, fought a giant sea snake recently and so many other things.”

“I didn’t do any of those things alone, Caduceus.”

“No,” he agrees, “and I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be afraid. Fear touches every living thing. But I don’t think you have anything to be worried about.” Caduceus tilts his head, indicating something behind you. “Because I think he’s scared too.”

Behind you, silently watching this conversation, is Kingsley in all his pirate glory. However, the stance he holds in this particular moment is not one befitting of a swashbuckler. He is trying to seem like he is uninterested but you catch him looking over at the two of you. There’s a fidgety nature to him, like he wants to do two things at the same time.

You do not have the power to read minds, but if you did you would understand that the newest Tealeaf is at war with himself in this moment. His feet and heart long to move toward you while his brain and body refuse to move by the same type of overwhelming fear that you expressed to Caduceus. 

Caduceus leans over to whisper to you, “You’re a hero. Go save him. You can help me with the garden after.”

The joke almost excuses the shove Caduceus bestows upon you but regardless, you’re moving in Kingsley’s direction. 

As you approach Kingsley reacts immediately, acting as if he had been looking the other way and just noticed you. It was a little silly and made you feel at least a little bit better about your own fears. 

“Oh, uh, hello dear, loving weather this afternoon” Kingsley says, with a thin layer of faux nonchalance.

“Hi Kingsley,” you say, “It’s, uh, it’s really good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.”

“Listen, I've got something I want to tell you.”

“This isn’t about-”

“Please just, just wait. I’ve needed to say this for a long time and I don’t want it to get confused or misconstrued. I-” you take a breath as the tiefling in front of you falls quiet- “I love you Kingsley. And I know how that sounds. I know that a lot of the time you feel like you have this pressure on you to be like Molly and you don’t. I know you’ve read Beau’s journals, I know you know what Molly and I were. It’s taken me a while to figure this out but I didn’t want to talk to you about it until I was sure, but I love you. You as yourself, not you as an echo of Molly.”

You take a moment to breathe and gather your thoughts and continue, “You are your own brand of chaos and fit right into our weird little family and even if you don’t feel the same way, I just- I thought you should know.”

Kingsley is stunned for a moment before he takes a tentative step towards you.

“Love,” he says, the word coming out almost like a question, like he’s testing the word in his mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

And who are you to say no to The Plank King. 

A few feet away, happily working with the plants that surround his family home, Caduceus smiles, with plans to pull the both of you into yard work with him as soon as you’ve had some time to yourselves.

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