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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 months

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Not That Kind of Guy

Part Four: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, panty kink, sex daydreams [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is doing his very best, he just loves you and wants you to be comfy around him. Just let him worm his way into your heart babe [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. I’m illiterate so apologies in advance MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

Mr. Nelson’s funeral was today, it really was a beautiful ceremony as I look back on it. Even more so when my inner self smears the background enough to bring you to the front of the mental image.

You’d spoken to the man a handful of times, but I didn’t expect you to come. When I saw you accept the invite to the event on Facebook I thought surely it was a mistake. That was until you messaged Luke and asked him to accompany you, funerals make you nervous, but feeling obligated to do something and avoiding it makes you more nervous.

So your moral support was happy to attend and fight off dear old Alan’s corpse should he rise from the casket and set his sights on you.

And I though I had irrational fears, geez babydoll, how old were you when you watched Night of The Living Dead for the first time? If I had to guess it was too young. It’s alright though I get it, you know what movie traumatized me? The Mummy. Heebied my fucking Jeebies so bad I avoided the beach on family vacations.

You’re telling me there’s not a sarcophagus under all that sand? There’s at least one under there and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Solid ground for me only, please and thank you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I had a thought that I initially considered to be a sweet reminder of my dear friend Alan. His obituary was in the newspaper and I happened to swipe one from the guest book table at the viewing as well. Have you ever scrapbooked before? I bet you’ve at least tried it.

Well I thought it would be nice to make him a page in my journal. A little celebration of life for the man who gave me an opportunity to grow and nurture my love for you.

Then I realized mid-glue stick on the newspaper clipping that the idea was something that a clinically insane person would do.

I’m not that guy. That guy’s not me.

But the glue was already on there and it felt wrong to toss Alan’s wrinkly old face into the trash so I pasted him into my journal anyway.

Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. I’m well aware that little idea was less than tasteful, just felt like I should mention that.

Date:

July 28th

Anakin Skywalker hadn’t been this happy since… ever. The previous record being his discovery of you, was now toppled into second place and overshadowed by ‘Move In Day’.

He could hardly contain himself. It was a dopamine high that he would ride out until he’d drained every last drop.

The movers lugged in box after box, furniture and books, until finally they dropped off the last load and thanked Anakin for the business. He eagerly shook their hand and shoved them out. He had preparations to make.

He set up his Tv, screen mirroring the live feed of the apartment building entrance to the big screen so that he could easily keep an eye out for you while he unpacked his kitchen.

He’d planned your ‘meet-cute’ meticulously, looking to your bookshelf and streaming services to gather intel on your ideal scenario. You were an odd bird, but he liked that about you. It’s part of your charm, it’s part of the challenge. You’re not as predictable in your tastes and interests as others can be.

Anakin formulated the interaction step by step, frame by frame in the storyboard of his imagination until he had the perfect scene. His box office hit that he’d replay over and over again until the next time he stood face to face with you.

It took quite some time and a load of practice. Discarded dialogue, awkward movements that made him feel stiff and less than human when he practiced them in the mirror. Endless options of clothes, shoes, and hair.

Should he get a new piercing? He wanted to. So he did, he knew you’d like it.

It’d match the one he already had on the opposite nostril. It made him feel more complete to add something so permanent to his body, he wished he could do something similar with you. He wanted you to be permanent, so maybe it’s his subconscious’s way of telling him that this was going in the right direction.

He was on the right path. His journey of life alone was coming to a close and a new trail would reveal itself. No more rocky, unsteady tread. No more sharp turns and blind spots, no more impossible inclines.

Scraped knees and bloodied hands would be distant memories. Maybe even distant enough that he could toss them into The Pit.

He would have no need for anger or sorrow anymore.

How could he feel anything but the warm embrace of love as he strolled down the flowered path ahead with you?

Who knew that you could position one box in 83 different ways and hate every single one of them? Anakin was so thankful there weren’t any actual surveillance cameras in the apartment building. It’d be really difficult to explain why he was in the hallway for an hour with his hands on his hips, scooting a box of books a centimeter or two at a time. Turning it sideways and then making sure the book on top was perfectly positioned and would effectively fall to the ground to catch your attention.

He checked his watch nonstop, stared at his Tv screen, willing you to just hurry the fuck up before he vomited from anxiety. He’d waited months for this. If he fucked it up now he’d… well he’d probably keel over on the spot.

Which would promptly traumatize you and not even his ghost would be able to peacefully haunt you. It’s hard to peacefully haunt someone if they watched you die, or at least Anakin assumed it would be difficult. He wasn’t willing to test that theory though.

So, he puffed up his chest and walked back into his apartment and rehearsed the upcoming conversation a few more times. He needed, desperately needed to ensure his facial expressions conveyed what he wanted.

Soft, trustworthy, dependable, safe, caring.

He practiced softening his eyes, knowing sometimes he stared alittle too hard. He worked on his facial fidget; chewing on the inside of his cheek was a quick tell of his nervousness. He didn’t want to be perceived as nervous, he wanted to be confident and sure of himself so that you would be confident in your soon to blossom affection for him.

His eyebrows, that’s a hard one, but he’d meticulously watched bar goers trying to flirt. The successful ones he learned, sometimes use their eyebrows in place of questions or words. A difficult concept, but one he studied until he mastered it.

Now, the other facial expressions and mannerisms… he gathered that information from your watch lists on your streaming services. For the visible examples at least, but your books were just as helpful in describing how he should approach you, speak to you, and simply exist near you.

He hadn’t realized these things were this important until now. Standing and posture was surprisingly very, very important to women. As well as hand movements and subtle glances and minuscule changes of expression.

You were worth the time and effort it took to learn all of it. He’d read and research and practice until he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror any longer. He was determined to make sure you were happy with the results.

He was startled by a loud ping, someone had entered to building and holy shit it was you.

Anakin shook out his hands frantically, remembering the breathing techniques he’d learned as a child, he grounded himself quickly.

It’s okay.

‘She’s gonna love you. She’ll warm up to you quickly, you know everything you need to know about her to make her comfortable and loved.’

‘There’s no way she won’t fall head over heels.’

He smoothed out his band-tee and ran his hands through his hair quickly and headed to his door that was propped open slightly. A few boxes sat in the hall, including the most important one, the one instrumental to his plan.

The apartment hallway was ridiculously tiny, which worked in his favor in this situation.

He heard you come up the stairs, counted your steps until he knew you were almost at the door, 17 and a half steps. Then he swung open the door and bent down to grab one of the boxes.

As expected, he startled you and you dropped your keys. You always wore your backpack on one shoulder, one strap. So when you quickly went to scoop up your keys, your bag swung out of place and toppled a few books from one of the boxes.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Anakin could gloat to himself about his magnificent setup later, right now he needed to woo you with his sweet words.

“Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry.” He said softly, coming over to offer you a hand up.

“It’s okay, my bad.” You laughed, taking his hand.

He managed to keep calm and collected despite his insides boiling him alive at the willing skin contact.

“No, not at all. It’s my fault for startling you like that.” He chuckled, squeezing your upper arm and using his hand already in yours to give you a small handshake. Smooth.

“I’m Anakin.” He said with a bashful smile, dropping your hand and reveling in the lingering warmth your palm left on his.

You introduced yourself in return, gesturing to his apartment door.

“So I take it that you’re my new neighbor huh?” You said, making small talk as you crouched down to pick up the books you’d knocked over.

“No I’m just a one man moving crew.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” You laughed, standing up as you looked through the titles. “Hmm, you’ve got good taste.”

“You think so?” He asked, remembering to make his eyebrows swoop up toward the middle of his forehead to give a quizzical look.

“Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” You said, showing him the cover of The Silmarillion by Tolkien.

“Not many people actually read that one, I’m impressed.” He smiled.

“Impressed? Yeah well I’m jealous.” You laughed.

“What?” He chuckled, holding his hands out to take the other books from you.

“This is a really nice edition, it’s similar to mine. I recently lost it.” You sighed. “I think I must’ve left it the park or maybe it fell out of my bag or something.”

“Ah, that sucks… well, I mean I’ve read that one a few times now. It’s been well loved.” He said tipping the books in his arms toward the one you were holding. “Why don’t you keep it?”

He shrugged, acting nonchalant as though this didn’t mean the entire world to him and if you said no he’d sob about it later.

“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise, he was offering you a 50$ special edition book and you’d barely known him for a minute.

“Yeah, ‘course sweetheart.” He said with a cute, crooked smile. “Think of it as a… reverse house warming gift.” He chuckled.

“Thank you, I- this means a lot to me.” You said, grinning widely. “That’s real sweet of you Anakin. I owe you one.”

“No worries.” He chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it even sweetheart.” His gaze flickered quickly from your eyes to your lips, and he turned to go back into his apartment after giving you an almost-missed wink.

You stepped inside your home, and went straight to the bookshelf to put your new-to-you book where it belonged. After the fact you stood there and buffered, just staring at it.

‘There’s no way, this guy has to be too good to be true.’

But he seemed… so genuine. He didn’t ogle you, he didn’t make you feel weird or like he just felt obligated to speak to you.

He seemed to actually, really be a good guy.

Rare. Few and far of those exist in this day and age. It’s uncommon to meet someone who would do something, even as simple as giving you a used book, without expecting anything in return.

But he didn’t seem to expect anything. He didn’t seem to even expect a thank you, it was like he’d already decided he would give it to you before he even offered.

What are the odds that a hot, tattooed and pierced man moves in next door and gifts you an expensive book that just so happens to be an even better replacement for the one that you just lost? That couldn’t happen twice even if you tried to make it happen again.

What kind of second dimension did you step into? The land of dreamy men?

Diary Entry: July 28th

It’s late. But I have to write to you, it can’t wait til tomorrow.

Everything went more perfectly than I could’ve imagined. Thank you so much for being you sweet girl. It made my job of curating the scenery so much easier, you clumsy little thing. I am sorry for having to spook you though, but it worked didn’t it?

Research pays off. Always.

And of course there’s the issue of your book, I hated to see your frustration and your mad scowl when you realized it was missing from your backpack. I really did.

But I’d do it every goddamn day if I knew I’d get the same reaction out of you from giving you that new copy.

Oh god you’re… you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You look angelic when you sleep but you look like competition for Aphrodite when you smile at me.

You smiled, grinned. You smiled all the way up to the corners of your bright and beautiful eyes. For me.

You even laughed for me.

It was so sweet I could taste it. The honey of your voice, I could fucking bathe in it. Just the sound of you speaking, knowing you were speaking to me. Really speaking to me.

In the flesh.

It’s intoxicating. It’s emboldening, it’s dangerous. I’ve never been more worked up in my life. I’m torn all to pieces from at two minute and 6 second conversation.

I think I’ll have to fucking recover from this like a damn hangover.

But what has me so drunk you might ask? Was it your laugh at my stupid jokes? Was it your perfect smile, your radiant glow, your soulful eyes? The softness of your skin or you willingness to let me touch you?

No baby. It’s how you said my name.

I wish I could’ve stayed longer, I wish I could’ve spoken to you more. But it’s so hard to concentrate when my dick is leaking precum down my leg at a rate that should probably be concerning.

The minute you closed that door I shoved those boxes into my apartment and locked the door. Took my elated ass straight to the couch and watched you in your living room, admiring your gift from me while I fucked my fist with a pair of your dirty panties in my mouth.

I couldn’t have your honeyed lips soothing my angry red cock just yet, but I sure as hell could imagine licking your gorgeous little cunt while I tasted you.

I tugged my balls and pumped my cock for over half an hour until I was a fucking mess for you in my new living room’s floor. The cool hardwood letting the heat from my flushed skin seep away from me as I came back down to earth.

I made myself dizzy. Didn’t give myself a break, didn’t slow down, just stroked my cock like the desperate little manwhore that I am for you. The only thing missing was you being there to watch me fall apart.

I think you’d like that wouldn’t you? Watching a man like me get on his knees and beg for you?

Diary Entry: July 29th

I’ve replayed that moment in my head for hours on end. The beginning always stays the same, but the ending… that’s been subject to many changes. It started off simple, we’d chat alittle longer, I’d ask you how your day was; you’d tell me it was ‘fine, thank you’.

Or you’d ask me why I decided to move in, why I chose this side of town, this side of town, this apartment building, across from you. That one always ended questionably and I’d rather not explore that one on paper.

My favorites however were the ones where you’d laugh at a stupid pick-up line and somehow we’d end up in your bed. The bed I’ve sat and watched you sleep in. Those were the best additions.

Now, I’ve been fortunate enough that you’ve been loyal, faithful and devoted to only me since the very beginning. So I don’t really have a clue what you’d actually be like in bed.

But god it’s so fun to imagine it.

You’ve got such pretty, soft skin. You let me mar it up with my teeth and soothe it with my tongue. You let me grip the pillowy flesh of your thighs to spread you open for me. You let me pinch and roll and pull your nipples until they were raw and begging for a break. You let me caress the sensitive slick covered folds between those beautiful pussy lips, plunge my fingers in as far as they’d go.

I took you from behind, watching your perky little ass bounce off my cock while I plowed into you. Your face smushed against the couch cushions and your body folded over the arm rest for me to fuck you like the good little girl that you are.

Against the wall with your arms around my neck while I’ve got my hands holding you spread open and in place by the crook of your knees. You promised you stay real still so that I could drill up into you like you deserved.

God damn. Do you know how good you look like that? Back arched against the wall, tits jiggling in my face with every thrust. Your legs pushed up and back to the sides of your torso, to pin you in place?

It was like a pretty pink flower had bloomed and spread its buttery smooth petals just for me.

Don’t even get me started on how good you suck cock. Have you ever been told you could be mistaken for a warm, wet Hoover? No? Didn’t think so cause that would be rude as hell, but I bet someone’s thought it before.

(Me. It’s me, I thought that.)

Fuck those soft lips. Fuck that smooth snake of a tongue. Fuck that tight, hot throat that just loves to take a beating from my dick.

Can’t wait to prove my imagination right.

Speaking of, my dick has been beat. Like actually. If one didn’t know any better they’d assume it’s on life support, but I’m a freak of nature. Cumming upwards of 16 times in the span of 40ish hours would probably put a weaker man in a hospital bed. Or maybe a psych ward.

But I am not a weak man even if my dick feels raw. I’d still fuck you if you asked.

I’d be curious to know if I’d be able to stave off cumming longer from all the abuse or if I’d be so fucking sensitive that I wouldn’t make it in half an inch.

Probably the latter.

Diary Entry: August 2nd

Being so close to you is killing me. Truly it is.

You’ve sunken your claws so deeply into my very soul and you don’t even realize it. It’s torture. To you, I’m just the new guy, nice dude who gave you a book. But to me? You’re my entire world.

I’ve been told I have the personality of a guard dog. Soft and squishy on the inside, dangerous and fierce on the outside. Which I suppose could be true, but really I think it’s for a different reason. For a human, a dog is one small but very impactful blip in your life. But for the dog? You are it’s life.

Am I comparing myself to a dog right now? Yes I am.

I’ll beg for you to throw me the scraps of your affections until you finally toss me a bone.

Bark.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I’ve been trying my best to give you space. To plan accordingly and in advance. I have our next two interactions simmering on the back burner.

I know that if I go too hard, too fast, you’ll be overwhelmed. That’s the last thing I want. I never want to be the thing that causes you stress, I want to siphon it from you. So, in one week I will set out to help you with a few of your errands and plant a few seeds.

But until then, we have late night snacks and couch chats with Boogie.

I’ve also been doing- you guessed it- more research to do with helpful vitamins and medicines. You’ve responded so well to your SleepyTime tea and since I’ve started making sure your birth control packet is plainly visible in the countertop basket directly beneath that cabinet, you’ve been taking it so well.

I’m so proud of you sweetheart, that’s my girl, look at you taking care of yourself. You’ve done so well in fact, that it’s in my personal opinion that you have earned a very special reward.

Anakin sat on his couch, the live feed of your living room screen mirrored to his Tv. He was watching you cook dinner, he knew you’d be making a stir fry. He’d seen it in your planner, so he’d taken the liberty of ordering himself the same, it’d be here any minute. As would your good friend Sam.

Anakin had originally burned red hot with jealousy at the thought of you inviting a man over to your apartment, that he hadn’t vetted via social media and a quick drop-in. But he was relieved to discover that Sam was just a girl from your book club.

This wasn’t one of his well thought out plans, this was decided upon this morning after you’d returned from book club. So, he was anxious to see if his hunches served him well. Sam seemed like a punctual gal, at least from what he’d seen on social media and the text messages between the two of you from weeks/months before.

Anakin had the wonderful idea to log into your cell service providers website to pull your deleted messages from their data bank. You really should have better passwords.

The thing he was most worried about was his door dasher arriving on time. It was rare that one was too far off on arrival time, but it would be his shit luck and lack of planning that could ruin this little glimpse of you.

The minutes ticked by and he was alerted to the new motion sensors he’d placed near the LED pathway lights on the paved entrance to the apartment building. He quickly switched over to the hallway feed at the front door, seeing that it was his door dasher.

Damn you Trevor. How dare you get there before Sam.

Not to worry, he’d call for the door code and Anakin wouldn’t answer the first time. It wasn’t much but it would buy him a few seconds.

Though it seemed to be that luck was on his side as it often was when it came to you. Sam was so kind, kind enough to let the delivery guy into the building. Which is technically a security concern but Trevor didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be able to remember a 6 digit door code.

He was too busy staring at your friends ass to pay attention to the numbers she entered anyway.

The footsteps approached your door and his, Anakin waited until he heard Sam knock on your door before he opened his. Trevor stood patiently as Anakin slowly counted out his tip in cash and thankfully you were quick to let your friend inside. After the exchange was complete Anakin gave you a smile and wave.

He could’ve had a heart attack at the response you gave him.

A flirty little finger waggle and smile.

He had to remind himself to breathe and keep his expression a happy-neutral. He’d hate for you to see his blushing cheeks this early on.

“Have a good night girls.” He said as he closed his door and to his surprise you actually answered.

“You too!”

If he weren’t confident that you were a sweet and loving soul, he’d think you were trying to kill him with the siren song of your voice.

Stir fry had never tasted so fucking good.

Diary Entry: July 8th

Grocery day baby, here I come.

I love that you’re so predictable. I love that you’re so fucking cute and always try to strong arm your groceries in one trip. I love that it takes at least two good whacks to the trunk of your shitty old Nissan to properly close it.

It’s cute to watch you struggle with it, the annoyed huffs and angry scowl.

I thought you’d combust on the spot once when your paper grocery bag of flour and sugar ripped open and sent a plume of flour up on your black jeans. The parking lot was very empty and I was very glad because I’d hate for someone to have seen the cursing contest you had with yourself as you picked up your spilled items. Very unladylike you know. But it’s you so I don’t mind, I just like to hear you talk.

It’s almost time. I’ve been sitting in my car for about 10 minutes. Gotta account for the traffic on highway 76. Do you really have to shop all the way out there just because of the Whole Foods? C’mon baby they have the same shit at Kroger.

I’ve been watching your little blue dot on my phone and you’re rounding the corner so I’ll write you later doll.

I love you.

You pulled into the parking lot and sat in your car for a moment. Giving yourself the much need quiet to decompress from your work day and the grocery trip. After you’d checked your messages and scrolled for a moment you decided it was time to head inside before your frozen foods got… not so frozen.

You popped the trunk and fumbled with the faulty latch, your fingers feeling blindly under the metal lip until it finally detached and you were able to open the trunk.

You took a deep breath and scolded yourself for buying the extra few things that could’ve waited till next time. Second trips are for wimps and you weren’t one. So you loaded up your left arm bag by bag until you heard a humored puff of air and the beep of a car locking behind you.

“Need a hand sweetheart?” Anakin grinned, shoving his keys into his front pocket.

He waltzed over and took a few bags off your hands without waiting for a response. It took you aback, not because he hadn’t waited for permission, but because of the way he exuded an odd charm that made you falter.

“Anakin, really it’s alright I can get it.” You said, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion by his kind gesture.

“Mmm no, this seems like a two man mission sweet girl.” He smiled, gathering up a few the last few bags from the trunk and shutting it with one solid push.

“You really don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to.” He said tilting his head toward the apartment building to encourage you to walk with him. “I want to.”

“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” You smiled, a light blush creeping across your cheeks.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, tapping in the door code and holding it open for you despite holding many more bags than you.

Something about the low tone of voice or maybe just the way he looked at you with his icey blue eyes… just sent a chill down your spine. A quick one that was gone in an instant, replaced by a warm glow in the center of your chest.

“Guess chivalry’s not dead.” You joked.

“I’m no knight.” He laughed, “but you’re sure as hell a princess.”

‘Oh that was smooth.’ You thought, trying to ignore the heat at the bottom of your stomach.

What is happening? How on earth can one man be so… everything? Kind, caring, chivalrous and gorgeous to boot.

You felt a wave of embarrassment at the squeaky giggle you let out. He had you tore up from one little comment.

True to the gentleman he seemed to be, he chose not to push it and tease you about your beet red cheeks. He just waited patiently for you as you unlocked your door.

“Do you want me to bring these in for you?” He asked, watching your movements closely.

“Oh that would be great.” You said in relief, leading him into your kitchen.

“Cute little place.” He said, looking around the kitchenette and over to the living room.

He sat down your bags on the counter and started unloading them neatly into rows.

“Oh, you-“

“Mmm mmm.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Just let me help, it’s no big deal.”

You let out a puff of air in an amused sort of amazement and pulled out your little step stool to open up the cabinets. Anakin snickered from behind you as you stepped up and started putting things away.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder and almost said something snarky until you realized he was folding your paper grocery bags in the same way that you always do.

“Huh.” You laughed. “I thought I was the only one who did that.”

“Did what?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.

“Fold the bags.” You said, turning back around to continue placing your things where they belonged.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I dunno it’s just a habit I guess. Fits better in that stupid slot on the recycling bin this way.”

“Yeah I never really understood why they made them that way? I guess so people don’t just shove other trash in there.” You mused.

“Mmhm probably.” He agreed, stacking them neatly and gathering it in his hands. “Do you want me to take these out back for you?”

“I can do-“ You stopped yourself when Anakin raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with a crooked smirk.

You sighed and gave him a downturned smile. “Yes, I would love for you to take them out back for me.”

“Good girl.” He nodded, clicking his tongue and heading for the door. “See ya princess.”

After he shut the door you let yourself breathe alittle easier, blowing out the air in a short puff through your nose. Maybe even letting a little smile cross your lips before you finished up your task.

You’d be thinking about that low rumble of his voice later. Good girl? Shit.

PART FIVE

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 5 months

Text

ONE YEAR LATER

tangerine x fem!reader

word count. 912

synopsis. one year ago today, you and tangerine celebrated the birth of your daughter, mandarin - mandy for short. this special day also marks the anniversary of when you unintentionally saved his life - calling him home from his mission in tokyo.

warnings. fluff fluff fluff. all the fluff !!

note. posting this as a little gift for my 1 year writing anniversary💌 I don’t usually like or read baby/ pregnancy fics, so I have no idea why I wrote this😭 wanted it to be fluffy so everyone can enjoy xo

For you, today was a celebration of life - a day of reflecting on your greatest loves. Not only does today mark your daughter's very first birthday, but it's also the day when you unintentionally saved Tangerine's life.

Way back when, Tangerine was apprehensive about leaving your heavily pregnant self while he was away on a mission - all on your own without any help or care. At the time, your due date was a mere couple weeks away, so you reassured him constantly, saying that she wouldn't be out for a little while - and how you have friends and family who can step in if need be. Besides, back then, you were looking forward to having the bed to yourself, getting to sleep through those very few hours you got a night without your husband's snoring disrupting you.

When you rang him up last year in the middle of the night -for you- you were crying and rambling about the pain of contractions, beckoning him back home to you and the baby. He never once questioned a thing, diverting the taxi driver to the airport instead of the train station.

He would never admit it, but he felt completely useless, only being able to encourage and help over a measly phone call, listening to you cry and wail without being able to touch or hold you. He stayed on the phone with you until he boarded the plane, praising you and telling you how he'll be with you in no time.

That's why today was so important to you - to you both. It's the day your love returned home in one piece while simultaneously being blessed with another slightly cuter and smaller love.

As first-time parents, Mandy's birthday was a big deal - though she wouldn't remember it, you would. It's the kind of day you both want to remember: everything down to the second - every spilt drink, every smile, every word, just every little thing about the day.

Tangerine was out fetching some last-minute things for the party while you stayed back with your daughter, your little girl resting on your hip as you finished setting the table. It wasn't a big celebration with lots of people you feel obligated to invite, just a small, casual event with those you're closest with: Lemon on Tan's side and a few relatives on yours.

"Oh, I know," you sweetly coo, entertaining Mandy when she blabbers - diverting her fidgeting fingers away from the hem of your top. "He's taking forever, hm? I only asked him to get candles."

You look down at your sweet little girl, her toothy grin mirroring your wide one. It was times like this when she looked like the spitting image of her father - light eyes lit up warm, all doe-like, gazing at you with a smile.

You make a playful gasp at Mandy when you hear the keys jingle in the front door, shaking her excitedly and rushing to meet Tan in the foyer.

He walks in, a smile quickly spreading when he lands on you both - Mandy hooked on your hip, her grin just as bright as yours.

"There's my girls," he says warmly, briefly kissing you on the cheek, then his daughter on hers. "Sorry, traffic was utter shit," he whispers to you, lingering a kiss on your lips.

He walks past you both, nodding for you to follow along, leading you to the kitchen island. He places a shopping bag on the counter and begins to rummage through it, searching for what seems to be surprises from the shop.

"Alright, alright. I know you said just cake candles, but," Tan proposes, drawing out the 'but' with a sly smile. "I couldn't not get something for the birthday girl," focusing his attention on Mandy, who is making grabby hands at him. "Here you go, poppet."

Tangerine picks up a bouquet of baby pink flowers from the bag and pulls out a singular peony, handing it to his daughter. His eyes soften as he looks over Mandy, watching how she displays her signature toothy smile, clearly pleased with her gift - even though it had absolutely no use to a one-year-old. The thought is what counts - it does to you anyway.

"Don't think I forgot about you," he softly smiles, his moustache twitching upwards. He hands you the original bouquet and an envelope. "I wrote it in the car. All I had was an Ikea pencil," he chuckles, suddenly bashful.

Your smile widens, nose scrunching, and eyes creasing - clearly appreciative of the sweet sentiment. Exchanging Mandy for the gifts, you open the card and read through his note, watching how he slipped through the kitchen doors, seemingly embarrassed.

"I know you do," you warmly call out to him from the other room, gesturing to his worded thanks for his appreciation towards you. "I appreciate you too, you know," your words quieten as you trail after him into the living room - getting closer to them. You plop onto the sofa beside him, sitting snuggly at his side with Mandy atop his lap. You slip your hand into his larger one, resting your head on his shoulder. "Like a whole lot."

And as you wait for your very few guests to arrive, you take the time to remember this moment - to enjoy it. You and your little family huddled on the couch, celebrating the day that reunited you all.

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x you #tangerine fluff #tangerine fic #soft tangerine #bullet train tangerine

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rizzrack · 1 year

Text

He gradually worked his way through the stockroom, performing an audit of the inventory counts. The numbers were always right, but the merchant had little else to do in the meantime. Thankfully it won't be the case for long. The keen had just received news from a colleague at the estate that the ordered prints were being delivered. He was looking forward to finally beginning work on this new project. He had to wonder however how his associate Milgram was doing. It had been over twenty-four hours since he set out to complete some research of his. The merchant wasn't too worried however. Knowing that the customer was on his way with the prints assured him that he could expect to see Milgram very shortly.

Even sooner than he expected. A dingling bell hanging in the doorway notified the merchant of the presence of two more diminuitive folk. Through the entrance stepped a stout keen, and behind him followed Rizzrack. Although at first hesitant to enter, he quickly began to look all about the room.

While the stand could catch Rizzrack's attention, the inside of the shop absolutely captivated him. The air was perfumed with the sweet smell of grease and lubricant,a telling sign that they did more than just sell parts. However that alone wasn't what struck him. Like most things the ceiling was high enough for the average person, but unlike everything else Rizzrack was so used to seeing, the chairs, shelves, tables, almost everything was made for keenfolk in mind, everything but the service desk; that seemed to be more in favor of the average height profile of the population in Weeping Rose.

Rizzrack knew he had never been in this place before, but he couldn't ignore the gripping sensation of familiarity as he took in his surroundings...

The way the stools had seats that he didn't have to hop up into.

The way the tables didn't go above his chin or required his elbows to be above his shoulders.

The way most everything was within his natural reach.

He was too lost in his own world to notice the merchant come over to greet them.

"Milgram. Welcome back! How went your research in the field?"

"As ordinary as it could be. Aside from this one variable;" He takes a step aside to gesture to the smallkeen right behind. "I happened across someone looking for you!"

"Friend of the warden, we meet again!"

Rizzrack snapped out of it at the mention of 'warden'. He quickly recognized the merchant as the keen he was looking for. While he was glad to have finally found him, his mood was instantly sullied by being reminded of Silencer, influencing the way he reciprocates the greeting.

"Surprised, eh? I wouldn't be. I should have expected him to trick me! Just when ya think you can depend on someone, they lead you on and waste your time."

While both the keen were taken aback by his sudden venting, they had no trouble with keeping tact. "I see. Well, I take it you're in need of dependable people. You know, I know dependable people."

"We're the dependable people." Milgram specified.

"Sometimes the only ones you can depend on is your kin."

'That's a lie.' Rizzrack wanted to say. He knew very well you can't depend on kin either, because sometimes kin get other plans and think it's a great idea to abandon you like trash. But these guys wouldn't be kin by familial obligation. No, it'd be through the shared experience of the struggle for progress that bonds them. It almost felt like some vague lesson he learned before.

Not wanting to lose control of the interaction, the merchant continued. "Despite how long we've known each other, I believe I haven't properly introduced myself yet. I'm Zimbard."

"Zimbard. Well, Zimbard. I'm Rizzrack, and I'm sure you already know why I"m here now."

Zimbard smiled and nodded along patiently as Rizzrack explained his situation. Although he was reluctant to get into reasons and motives, the merchant seemed satisfied enough just knowing the important details.

"Well, retrieving your suit shouldn't be a problem to accomplish, and while we can get right on it, we only need your help to keep an eye on things here while Milgram and I are gone."

"And of course one other important thing."

----

Not long after, the two keen were on their way, completely trusting Rizzrack to be alone at the shop.

He could really feel them depending on him.

It was...

p r e s s u r e.

But he was fine! He was in his element. If someone walked in looking for something, he could find it! He could even sell it! He's sold things before. Like wood. He's sold woodsohowcouldhemessupsellingparts?

Rizzrack did his best to sit still and relax at the service desk. While there were better places to sit, he felt inclined to sit where he thought he should on duty. Besides, the little service bell he found himself tapping with his finger proved to be a helpful little distraction.

In truth there was no reason to stress over selling parts. He wasn't there to sell parts. In fact he's only there to wait for someone to delivery some drawings. Take them, make sure the paper is signed. Easy. Can't mess that up. Unlike meeting up with people. Apparently that can be messed up. Stupid Nortrom. Well guess what Mr. Warden? I've got everything handled myself. I never NEEDED your help, and when the sawsuit is finally back in business I'll-

Ding-ding-ingling...

Rizzrack looked to the bell. No, that wasn't him absent-mindedly tapping it. Realizing the sound came from the door he walked through, he looked up instead to see if it was the customer that Zimbard was expect-

Rizzrack gasps and quickly ducks down, hiding behind the desk.

It's Nortrom. What is HE doing here!? Did he forget about today? Who cares!? Going away you stupid man I'm not READY to see you yet!

@nortromthesilencer

#sorry I just went and made it a new starter or something lol

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pixeldistractions · 2 years

Photo

— flashback, Spring 2087. Selena’s good friend, Andre, has some ideas about her relationship with Luis. And he has a confession, too, which isn’t received as well as he hoped.

***

After the ceremony, graduates and their families mingled in the gallery and cafeteria of the Casbah Arts Center, featuring a spread of light appetizers and desserts. The bar, however, was not free.

"Hold up, her drink is on me," Andre said to the bartender, sliding onto the stool next to Selena.

"Thanks," she said. "But I only ordered a water."

Andre laughed. "I'll have to owe you one then."

"Sure. And hey, congrats to your brother, too. What an exciting time for him. He's going up north for college. That's very daring for a desert boy!"

"I don't think he's realized yet how cold the winters get there," Andre said.

"So where’s Luis?"

Selena shrugged. Luis had been kind of a bummer on her big night. Once upon a time, this was supposed to be his graduation night, too.

"Don't worry about him," she said. "He’s just not in a super great mood. You know he bombed his exams a few semesters ago. But his internship is going well, his boss likes him and plans to keep him on, so he barely cares about his grades anymore. Just enough to finish."

Andre knew pretty much everything about Selena's relationship with Luis. They had lots of time to talk in between their classes, while Luis stacked extra credits because he was so far behind. Andre knew about her wanting six kids, a big bustling family like her beloved grandmother, and Luis wanted “negative two” (if that were ever possible) because his parents had only ever failed him and then they died. Luis hated everything about the idea of raising children—the obligation, the noise, the expense, the babyproofing, the mess.

Selena told Andre these things in confidence, when she was lonely, when Luis spent the year busting his butt to make up his failed semester and nearly failed all over again. She expected to be lonely for another whole year while Luis finished up his courses on top of a full-time job.

"I'm sticking around after graduation," she said. "Maybe we can hang out some time."

"Actually, I wish. But I’m transferring after this semester."

One friend gone. Maybe Selena would be even lonelier than she thought.

"Oh? That’s too bad," she said. "But, I mean, I suppose you wouldn't be going unless you had a good reason."

"Potomac Medical College seems like a better fit," he said. "And it’s cheaper. And my sister just had a baby, so I though I could help her out a little out there."

"You’re so sweet, Andre. It’ll be nice for her to have some family out there. I miss my family all the time. Family is so important."

"I couldn't agree more. I read that bit about your holiday dinners in the program notes. I see that for you. You'll have it some day."

“You really think?”

Not with Luis, maybe, Andre thought. Only going by what Selena told him. He barely knew Luis personally. But he knew Selena, and Selena deserved to be happy and have everything she ever dreamed of. He wouldn't say most of that out loud. But on what might be the last night he ever saw her, only one thing came to mind to say. "Selena, I’m in love with you."

"Oh," she said. Selena froze, her eyes went wide, but not with surprise. No, this was not a surprise. That he had a crush on her was clear as day. It was just that she didn't actually expect him to say out loud. She'd been trying to deny it. His friendship had been so pleasant this past year. She didn't want things to become awkward. Maybe that was selfish of her.

Everything Selena told Andre was out of friendship and fondness, not love. Or, not the same kind of love he felt, she expected. Her feelings for Andre were best kept tidy and discreet. Sure, he was very handsome, and kind, and probably shared a similar outlook on life and values. But no. Selena didn't want to know. Because she loved Luis and Luis loved her back and surely love conquered all, even the most fundamental life differences.

"Oh, Andre. Why?"

Andre was such a kind soul, he would only ever assume someone would take those words with only graciousness. Maybe in another life or time, Selena might have felt gracious for them.

"I’m sorry," Andre tried to say. "I just thought..."

Before Andre could finish that thought, Luis had returned.

“Hey, babe, don’t fill up on chips. I’m taking you out for a steak dinner to celebrate.”

"Steak sounds good," Selena said.

It was what it was. And maybe it wasn't a complete loss. She didn't think Luis was opposed to marriage itself. Maybe not all of her dreams were lost. Luis was her first love, only love, and four years was a lot to think about. Maybe they could make it work. Maybe he might change his mind as they grew older? She wasn't ready to contemplate the alternative.

As she and Luis left, Selena tried to offer her friend one last sympathetic glance. He couldn't bear to turn his head. She understood.

— from “graduation 2087″

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #old stories coming back around again #selena #luis #andre

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parkpavilion · 10 months

Text

Scriptor Honoratus Senex

How many writers, living or dead, have had an active, acclaimed publishing career that extends for almost seven decades? The number might be as low as one, but fortunately that one is still with us, still writing and still publishing. John McPhee is the cream of the crop where literary non-fiction is concerned, having won almost every award possible for his work, including the Pulitzer Prize. He’s also been a mentor to multiple generations of younger writers who themselves have become award-winners, thanks to his life-long connection to Princeton University.

His most recent book, Tabula Rasa, is his 32nd (discounting many other recompilations of his work), and it chronicles many (though hopefully not all) of his writing projects that did not turn into finished, full-length products. As soon as I heard about its imminent release, I knew it would be the subject of intense discussion between me and another major McPhee fan, writer and friend of Madison Books Matthew Fleagle. Our conversation about the book (as much of it as I thought blog readers would tolerate, anyway) is below.

--James

—————————————————

James: The more love you feel, the greater the risk of heartbreak. Which is why I was both eager and hesitant to read Tabula Rasa. Maybe you felt the same way? Our love for John McPhee is well documented and well earned–the man has won the Pulitzer Prize, published more than thirty books, and written millions of words, not one of which was placed on paper without the utmost care. But the man is 92, and understandably isn’t undertaking projects as grand or ambitious as he once did. Still, when I read that in his new work he “looks back at his career from the vantage point of his desk drawer, reflecting wryly upon projects he once planned to do but never got around to,” I worried (heck, I assumed) that this would be a binful of substandard pencil shavings. Keeping the old man busy and helping him clear some long-accumulated clutter is the least we can do after all he’s given us, right? Those were my thoughts after obliging another of our mutual nonagenarian faves, John Barth, with a read of his most recent collection. Rueful reminiscence and mild disappointment was not what I got from Tabula Rasa, though. McPhee hasn’t played all his cards yet, and has some tricks remaining.

Matt: I was certainly eager. If I had thought to be worried going in, I'd have dropped that anxiety pretty toot sweet. As always, McPhee roped me in right away. I happen to be working my way through a box of old letters from the previous two generations of my dad’s family to determine what should be done with them (the letters) and so McPhee’s mechanism of the “letter in response to a daughter" as an opening to this journey through his file cabinet of writing project ideas– “Dear Jenny: I didn’t go there with Tim and Wendy. We drove from France straight to northern Portugal . . .” –quite grabbed my attention. Once lasso’d, I was fully wrangled by the third piece’s conceit of the unfinishable project as a means of extending an old man’s life. As you know, that’s the sort of thing I stew on while doing dishes, weeding or performing really any activity that requires me to respire but not necessarily think much about what I’m doing. So I was immediately engrossed.

I kept being startled at first by the brevity of these works. This book seems a little like a printed blog. The pieces are about that long and like good blog posts, they just get you fully interested and then they end, leaving you wishing for more, or in my case propelling me on to the next one. McPhee binging. Most of them end abruptly but they end elegantly, often with a zinger quote. But there is clearly much more in most of these pieces that could be researched and presented, so it's easy to see why McPhee had been holding onto them. I say most, not all, but we'll get to that. How about you? Did you find these stories satisfying though they were such short outings?

James: Very. That’s the most invigorating aspect of this book–even in the twilight of his career, there’s novelty. He made his bones with a kind of writing that’s been described (in a phrase I love and have quoted before) as “requiring a certain readerly patience.” Meticulous descriptions of people and place, methodical accumulation of information, powerful conclusions built with time and pages . . . in McPhee’s house there are many mansions, and you don’t hurry through them. But in Tabula Rasa he’s quicker, lighter, and snappier. The entries here aren’t truncated versions of his older essays, they have a form of their own, and he’s as dextrous with it as he has been in his more expansive books.

With that dexterity, we get the unexpected zingers you mentioned. Who knew McPhee could throw off punchlines like Henny Youngman? The bit about environmental activist Edward Abbey is the best example, I think. What a putdown. I guess Abbey gets credit for the remark, but McPhee knows exactly how to structure the anecdote for full effect. I hadn’t thought about Abbey for years, but it made me want to read more about him. Sounds like you felt the same way about most of the subjects, but you mentioned some exceptions?

Matt: I did, but I only meant that I suspect some of these stories were never intended to be longer. McPhee introduces or extraduces a lot of these pieces with notes about having intended to do a full treatment of the subject and why he never did (profiles of Meredith Willson or of his mother, Mary, for instance, or explorations of Bing cherries or river deltas), but others are little anecdotes standing on their own feet, proffered without a word about any erstwhile plans for them. “Outcroppings of Washington Road'' is one such; it’s just a little story about a number of different things, and the piece can be said to be loosely wrapped around McPhee’s magnum opus, Annals of the Former World, which is a project he most definitely did get around to. “Outcroppings'' is in my view the perfect little McPhegian outing–it's like a canoe trip among tall reeds; there's a beginning, a sudden 90-degree turn, an apparent dead end and restart that makes you wonder where the old man is going, then an unexpected twist, and a final rejoining of the main stream as the ideas come braiding together at the end. McPhee's mastery of structure and timing, as you say, is never more evident than in these snack-sized pieces.

And I don't mind at all the professor just remembering out loud. To pursue the metaphor, I can imagine sitting in a slowly drifting canoe with the author’s voice behind me (he would be the aft paddle, naturally) occasionally breaking a mosquito’d stillness with one of these little stories, each a delightful non sequitur from the one before.

James: The image of this author as an excursion guide is perfect, first because he’s spent so much time being in and writing about America’s still-wild lands, and second because his work always gives the impression that you’re accompanying him on a journey. He’s a wise cicerone of the great outdoors who shares knowledge as well as the experience of obtaining it.

Hmm, the praise is getting a little treacly. Is there some reservation you want to express, lest we sound too sycophantic?

Matt: McPhee can occasionally pitch low and inside. I haven’t yet fully forgiven him for expecting me to agree that no one knows or cares who Wilford Brimley is while simultaneously tossing off references to people I’d never heard of, undermining his own point that you shouldn’t make references in your work to people or things your readers have never heard of. That was a different book, but “points of reference” can still be an issue for me. I spent the whole of this book’s “Time-Out on the Floor” chapter waiting for him to explain to me what time-out on the floor meant, which he never did. I got an idea by the end, but let’s just say readers who follow college athletics or were reared or schooled in the East will have a slight advantage when sports is the topic or when Princeton names are dropping. A significant number of these pieces revolve around athletes, professors, administrators and other figures from McPhee's long career as an educator and even longer life as a sports fan. Still, McPhee usually makes quick work of getting the reader up to speed, and I found myself invested in every story even when I felt some initial disorientation.

I'd like to mention some highlights that I particularly enjoyed but I'm hogging the page and we may be running out of room, so you first. Besides the Edward Abbey coup you mentioned, what were some of your favorite moments?

James: You’ve cited one already. As a Northwesterner, I felt a swell of pride when I ran across “Bourbon and Bing Cherries.” Plenty of good stuff in there about McPhee’s edible and potable interests, but the fact that the most popular cherry cultivar in America was named after the Chinese foreman of an experimental orchard in Oregon, and was so labeled in the 1870s, just as America was gearing up for the racist Chinese Exclusion Act, is the most compelling part. Reminds me of how Seattle’s white founders were able to stretch their imaginations far enough to respect and name their city after an indigenous leader. I was also fond of the productively rambling longer pieces, including “Sloop to Gibraltar” with its portrait of the ancient merchant mariner Captain Washburn, and “The Dutch Ship Tyger,” which links a 17th-century trading vessel, future senator and former basketball player Bill Bradley, and the start of McPhee’s career with The New Yorker. But enough of that; hit me with your highlights.

Matt: So many, but off the top of the old bean:

"December 19, 1943” –It's difficult to say anything about this piece that isn’t a spoiler, except that McPhee doesn’t take this story in the direction that he could have taken it and might even have been expected to take it, but takes it somewhere else, which is why he’s John McPhee and the rest of us are not.

“Ray Brock” –This is one of those delightful little bundles of facts that make you think you know something, but McPhee never explicitly makes the call. This story is about both Ray Brock and Ernest Hemingway, but when it’s about which is the question and he doesn’t directly answer it, only gives us a fact that pushes us toward a certain conclusion.

"Joseph Henry House" –This is a great collection of little scenes set in the eponymous house, just the thing I like. Within a few sentences McPhee moves from architectural history to an intimate little memory and then to the large and sweeping thought of Princeton being visited and honored by colleges hundreds and hundreds of years older than itself. In this piece and several others, McPhee doesn’t seem to be trying to keep the ideas linked and tightly controlled; they seem to be like spirals, like flowers opening or like fireworks exploding.

"Walking the Province Line" –Out of nowhere, this! It’s a longer piece, and next to these little tarns it feels like one of McPhee’s oceans. One wonders as one is reading it why it’s in this book of unborn pieces, because it feels dense and researched. I was all over maps following this one, the way I follow Robert MacFarlane when he goes a-walkin’.

I'd say the same about "La Torre Pendente," which feels a little more like a “normal” McPhee piece. Of course it’s much shorter, but the treatment seems to be a longer look. More research was done, most of it long ago. The details all seem to be there. This one, like so many in Tabula Rasa, makes me imagine McPhee as a Texan defending the Alamo, opening up one musty manila folder after another, loading everything into the chamber each time, all the gunpowder, all the details, whether it is much or little, and pulling the trigger. For an old McPhee fan, there are very few misfires here.

James: A martial metaphor fitting for a writer who has long pursued his craft with military discipline, here commanding squads and platoons instead of his usual brigades and divisions. Although that sounds darker than I intended. Reading this collection is fun, as if McPhee is letting us play with a nice set of vintage toy soldiers.

We’ve pretty well established how rewarding Tabula Rasa is for his established fans (McPhegians, you called us earlier, which I much prefer to an appellation I’ve seen elsewhere, McPhinos), but as a bookseller, I have to consider how it comes across to someone for whom it really is a blank slate. I’m confident that utter neophytes (McPhledglings?) will be entranced by it. Each bite-sized chapter is tremendously satisfying, yet even devouring them all at once leaves one hungry for dessert. I’m not sure how he pulls off this rock-skipping magic, making weighty substance move with light and airy charm, but it must have something to do with the way time has distilled his vast experience into a potent, efficient brevity. A good lesson for us–as enjoyable as this conversation is, we should probably suspend it to give people a chance to read Tabula Rasa instead of our yammering.

Matt: Yup. It’s all in his wrist.

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readyforthegarden · 2 years

Note

“If I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop” with Sam, please??

OH BESTIE YES this is the cutesy fluff I love for!!

Sam pic courtesy of @joshysgf

The early evening air had a slight chill to it and you cursed under your breath, regretting forgetting a jacket as you sat on the edge of the dock. You and your friends had been on a week long trip to their cabin on a lake, and for three days, your friends kept pushing you and Sam together. Making the two of you be partners for beer pong games, making the ice runs into town together, one attempt at locking you two in a closet under the guise of not being able to find a dustpan.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Sam…it was quite the opposite, really. You were head over heels for the guy, but you’d never admit that to him. He toed the line between cute and sweet and egotistical and snarky perfectly, and you were never sure what side your feelings for him would land on. To be on the safe side, you kept your feelings to yourself, so as not to be the butt of any jokes in the family.

As you stared out onto the shimmering water, you felt a slight weight on your shoulders. When you looked up, you saw the object of your thoughts smiling down at you, placing his yellow jacket around your shoulders.

“I saw you when I was going to the kitchen to grab a drink.” he explained, helping you get your arms in the sleeves. “Thought you might be cold. The temperature dropped like crazy.”

“Thank you, Sam.” you smiled up at him and he nodded, then moved to sit down next to you. His long limbs were just long enough that the tips of his big toes skimmed the top of the water and he kicked them back and forth gently. “I just needed some quiet time.”

“Yeah, they’re getting wild in there.” Sam nodded. “Have you noticed they’ve been pairing us up this whole time?” a blush crept across your face.

“Yeah, they’re not very good at not being obvious.” you agreed. Sam laughed.

“I heard Jake say something about playing spin the bottle later.”

“Oh god.” you laughed now too, trying to ignore the flutter of your heart when he shook his long hair from his face as he laughed. “Don’t you think you’re a little out numbered? Four guys to two girls…and some of y’all are family.” Sam grimaced now, and you giggled.

“Yeah, it’s not his brightest idea.” Sam glanced over to you. “Besides, if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop. Might get embarrassing.” you froze, staring at his face and his lips tugged into a half smile, looking at your stunned face.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked, blinking. Sam looked back out on the water.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while, I think you might feel the same way.” he shrugged. “If I got the opportunity, I’d kiss you all the time. Whenever you wanted.”

“What if I wanted you to right now?” you asked quietly. Sam licked his lips as he turned to face you. He leaned in towards you, his eyes glancing from yours to your lips.

“I’d happily oblige.”

“Sam?” Both of your voices were low and slightly husky, your heart thundering in your chest.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.” Without another moments hesitation, Sam pressed his lips to yours, plush, soft and warm. His hand came up to cup your face, bringing you impossibly close as your hand moved to his thigh, gently squeezing it affectionately.

“YES!!” you and Sam broke apart to see Josh Jake, Danny and your best friend jumping up and down in the window of the cabin, both of the seemingly forgetting the window was wide open, and you could hear their shouts. Once they realized the two of you were looking at them, they froze, then immediately pretended that they weren’t looking. You and Sam laughed softly and when you turned back to face him, he captured your lips again.

“Yeah, just like I thought.” he whispered between pecks. “I won’t ever be able to stop kissing you.”

#writing prompt blurb #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiskza #sam gvf #sam kiszka fluff #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fluff #gvf fic

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

Birthday girl

I can't believe I did that, but here we are. This fits the "Multiple partners/gangbang" square from the Summer Bingo. With our favorite boys; Mike, Rafael, Sonny & Mike.

Words count: 3,9k

Warnings: Gangbang, p in v, creampie, spanking (slightly)

Sorry if there's any typos...

@thatesqcrush

You had a lot of hopes for your 30th birthday. Not just for the celebration itself but also in general. You thought that by now, you would be in a serious relationship, maybe with a kid or two, or at least planning on having one. You had many things you wanted to do before you were 30, but now that you think about it, you didn’t do much of those things. You’re actually far from it.

It just hurts to see people around you having their life together. Your best friend is married to a lovely man, she has a two year old boy and is pregnant with a second and she owns her business. Your sister - older than you - is traveling all around the world with her husband and their dog. And everytime you meet with your mother, it’s like she has to put pressure where it hurts. Every single time.

The only thing you can’t complain about is your job, and the people you work with. Being a detective at SVU is hard, it’s challenging, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. And you have the most amazing squad with you. Also, the most handsome men you ever met. Seriously. Mike, Sonny, Rafael, Nick. How could you not like your job when you see those faces 24/7?

You had expectations for your celebration party. You invited the squad to a beach house that you rented. They became your family, they are the ones you want to celebrate with. But little by little, it was falling apart. First, Amanda had to cancel since her sister is in town, and everyone knows Kim is a handful. Then, it was Liv turn. The day before, Noah got sick, so she decided to stay at home with him. That’s fair, Noah’s health first. And last but not least, your best friend and her husband canceled too. “No one to take care of the kid,” apparently. Is that what it is to have kids? Not having fun anymore? Cause if that’s it, maybe you don’t want one.

So, in the end, it’s just you and the boys. Not that you mind that thought at all.

You left early in the morning with Sonny. He offered to help you prepare the house, and go grocery shopping. “How’s the birthday girl?” he asked, gently as always.

“Kinda upset that everyone canceled. But I won’t let this ruin my day!”

“You’ll have fun anyway. We planned a few things with the guys,” he teased.

You spent the entire day annoying Sonny so he would talk. But he didn’t say a damn thing. Whatever they have prepared, you have no clue. It does stress you out a little but one thing is sure; you can trust them with your life.

Everything was ready when Mike, Nick and Rafael arrived. When Sonny opened the door to them, their arms were full. You saw booze, food, and gifts. Way too many gifts for one person. “What the hell is all of that?” you exclaimed when they dropped everything on the floor, in the living area.

“Everything we need to celebrate your 30th birthday. You will remember this weekend,” Mike said with a huge grin on his face. He walked up to you and hugged you softly. “Happy birthday Y/N,” he kissed your forehead.

Nick and Rafael did the same as Mike. Then, they quickly put their stuff in the bedrooms, before joining you and Sonny on the terrace, facing the ocean. The weather wasn’t the best, but you couldn’t care less.

“One rule for this weekend; not shop talk,” Nick warned and everyone agreed with it.

The evening started pretty smoothly. You were having drinks, eating the apéritif you and Sonny prepared earlier and chatting about nothing and everything. At some point, Rafael came back with a bottle of champagne and poured everyone a glass. “To our amazing Y/N,” he said, holding his glass in the air. “You probably have no idea what you mean to all of us and that’s actually what makes you even more lovable. We care about you more than you know. Happy birthday, querida,” he smiled and toast with you.

You looked at Rafael with puppy eyes. He and the three others know you’re not used to being praised like this, even though you deserve any less.

“This is nice! Mike, your turn,”

The sergeant obliged. He stood up and cleared his throat, “Everyone knows that me joining SVU was my dad’s idea, but honestly, I can’t thank him enough for making me. Cause now you’re in my life and girl, you won’t get rid of me. I can’t imagine my life without you, Y/N,” he paused, “and without those idiots either, but that’s not their birthdays,”

“You said it anyway,” Nick teased Mike.

“Shut up, Nick! Let him finish,” you elbowed Nick.

“Well, I was done actually. Happy birthday, honey,” he bent over to kiss your cheek and then toasted with you.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him. “Nick, now you can talk,” you were excited about this. The past weeks before your birthday hadn’t been easy, you overthink a lot about your life. You actually cried yourself to sleep the night before, but none of them know. Their words make you feel much better. You’re lucky to have them.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said before standing up, “We didn’t start on the right foot, you and me, probably because you never chewed your words with me and I hated it. But you were right on most of the things you ever told me. You’re - without a shadow of a doubt - the best friend I ever had. I can’t wait for us to fight like cats and dogs at the nursery home. Feliz cumpleaños, cariño,” he smiled at you and extended his glass so you could toast together, “Also, you’re hot as hell,”

It was an understatement to be honest, but Nick added this comment because he saw the tears forming in your eyes and he refused to see you cry on your birthday, because of something he said. Fortunately, it worked and you laughed instead of crying. “He’s right,” Rafael added with a wink. Of course, none of them missed how your cheeks turned bright red, even if you tried to play it cool.

“I guess it’s my turn now,” Sonny spoke and stood up. But he stayed silent for a moment, “What they said,” he simply said before sitting again.

Mike, Nick and Rafael immediately started to playfully boo him, “You suck man!” Nick exclaimed.

“You usually can’t shut up and now, that’s all you have to say?” Rafael teased him.

“Y/N should have the right to punish you,” Mike added.

“Oh yes, please! Can I punish you?” you eagerly asked.

“Oh honey,” Rafael grabbed your attention, “you don’t ask someone if you can punish them. You just do it,”

“I know, Rafi. But he’s a good catholic boy, remember? We can’t have him running out of the house, praying for our souls,”

“Y/N. You know Sonny is worse then all of us reunited,” Rafael said this so casually, he didn’t realize how it sounded.

“Dominick Carisi, you’re such a liar!” Mike shouted, “you told me you and Raf didn’t hook up!”

“Yeah well, about that? I lied,”

Sonny and Rafael exchanged sweet looks, while you were silently drinking your glass of champagne.. “Are you two dating or something?” Nick asked.

Rafael was about to say something, but Mike stood up in one quick motion and shouted even louder, “Oh my god!” The four of you looked at him, “I think what you should be asking, Nick, is if the three of them are a thing!”

One thing you hate about Mike is how he can read you like an open book. It was hard to hide from him, the night you had with Sonny and Rafael a few months ago. Now, there was no point to lie.

“I can’t believe you three hook up and didn’t say a damn thing,” Nick said.

“To be honest, I’m more offended about not being invited,” Mike added.

That’s how the night took a very different turn.

*****

“I think all the attention should be on the birthday girl,” Rafael said as he was unbuttoning his shirt. You and Sonny were kissing on one side of the couch while Mike and Nick were making out on the other side.

“Raf is right. To be fair, we have an entire weekend in this house,” Mike added.

In a matter of seconds, you were standing in the middle of the master bedroom, with the four men around you. “Mike and Nick need to know the safe word.” Rafael commented, and Sonny took his tongue out of your month to let you speak.

“Armadillo,” you said.

You can’t even begin to describe how you feel about all of this. Those four men just for you? All of their attention on you? That thought only could make cum on the spot. You had to remember the ground rules you had with Sonny and Rafael a few months ago, and the first one is not to overthink. You all know you can trust one another. You’re more safe with those four guys than with one single random guy.

Once the safe word was known to everyone, Sonny remained kissing you. You immediately granted access to his tongue, it was sloppy but passionate. Meanwhile, you felt a pair of hands taking off your top and another one taking care of your pants. “Matching underwear,” Mike commented, as he was the one staring, “You hoped for this, didn’t you?” You smiled against Sonny. You didn’t hope for a gangbang, but yes, you did hope to get lucky. But this was better than anything you hoped for.

“Of course, she did,” you heard Nick’s voice coming from behind you. He gently unhook your bra, freeing your tits and he didn’t waste a second before playing with them. Your nipples were already hard, craving for attention. “She knew she could have any of us,”

“Oh Nick, that’s worse than that. She knew she could have the four of us,” Rafael added, as one of his hands slided in your panties, feeling how hot and wet you were. “Guys, she is dripping,” he let the others know, and he gently started to tease your clit with his thumb.

As Sonny kept kissing you, Nick kept playing with your tits, and Rafael kept teasing your drenched entrance, Mike got undressed. You saw him from the corner of your eyes, and your attention quickly fell on his rock hard erection. He smiled when he noticed where you were looking and started to stroke himself. You locked eyes with him while tentatively trying to touch one of the guy's cock. Your hand landed on Sonny’s crotch and he groaned at the sensation, even through the fabric of his jeans. But Rafael used his free hand to grab your wrist. “Such a needy cock slut,” he said, right next to your ear.

“Maybe Sonny should replace his tongue with his cock,” Nick offered and he felt you nodding. So Sonny stopped kissing you, he briefly took a look at your swollen lips, and your naked body being taken care of by Rafael and Nick.

“Well, Mike, get closer,” Sonny said as he undressed himself, “She loves having two cocks in her mouth. Am I right, Y/N?”

Everything that was happening was too much, you struggled to find your words, so you nodded. But it wasn’t enough for them. “You want to hear you say it,” Mike said after he finally got closer to you.

“I--I want your cocks--” you moaned as Rafael finally entered your core with one finger, “in my month,” you moaned even more when Nick pinched both of your nipples, just enough to make it hurt, “All of them,” you finally added.

To make sure Rafael and Nick could still work on your body, Mike and Sonny stood up on the edge of the bed. Your face was right at their crotch. You took one cock in each hand, gently stroking them, “I think Mike should be first. I already know how your mouth feels,” you agreed and focused on Mike’s cock, but with your other hand still stroking Sonny’s. You softly licked the head, tasting the precum coming out, before taking him in your mouth. Mike let out a huge groan at the feeling, “Man, when was the last time you had a blowjob?” Nick joked.

“Way too long,” he managed to say.

You have to admit, it’s hard to give a good blowjob to a man, while two others are worshipping your body. But Rafael decided to withdraw his hand from your panties and quickly after, you felt a cold breeze as Nick’s hands and body drift away from you. “Don’t forget about Sonny, babygirl,” you heard from the other side of the room.

Your jaw is going to be sore as fuck in the morning as you opened your mouth as much as you could, to take both Sonny’s and Mike’s cocks in. Obviously, they can’t both fit in but it is mostly about playing with the heads and your tongue.

You jolted when you felt a very warm body against your back. You recognized Rafael’s smell. He was fully naked. He held your hips strongly, sliding his hard cock in your panties and stroking it against your ass. You felt his hot breath in your neck before he planted a few wet kisses there.

Your face was a mess. It was a mix of saliva and precum from both men. Your pussy was a mess too. You were so wet, you could feel it on your thighs. You kept sucking Sonny and Mike for a short moment before they made you stop. Mike got down from the bed and kissed you deeply, enjoying the mixture that was there.

Someone finally took your panties off, you don’t know who and you couldn’t care less. You were desperate to be fucked.

*****

The first to get inside you was Nick. You were lying on the bed, a complete mess already, and Nick got on top of you. He gently kissed you, teased your entrance for a short moment before sinking inside your pussy in a slow motion. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned as he bottomed out. He started to thrust you, slow and deep at first.

The sounds you were making were such a turn on to the four men. As Nick was fucking you good, you had no idea where Mike, Sonny and Rafael were, until you felt someone climbing on the bed. When you opened your eyes, you saw Rafael’s face above you and his cock was a few inches from your mouth. “Open that pretty mouth for me,” he said and you obliged. As Nick was fucking your pussy, Rafael was facefucking you. And this was a lot to handle. It didn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm coming up. Your cries were muffled by Rafael’s thick cock as you came, and it brought him an overwhelming sensation that made him groan hard. “Such a good girl, creaming my cock like this,” Nick said. He wasn’t far from coming either. He buried his face in your neck, and he felt your nails crashing on his skull. It took a few more thrusts before he loaded his hot cum inside you, crying out your name.

He stayed on top of you for a moment before pulling out, at the same time Rafael stopped facefucking you and you cried at the emptiness.

“Someone doesn’t like to feel empty?” It was Sonny who talked. He was sitting next to you and he pushed two fingers inside your pussy, taking Nick’s cum back where it belonged. Your body arched at the feeling and you moaned deeply. “So worked up already. But we’re not done with you,”

“You better not,” you laughed.

“Oh, she’s teasing!” Mike exclaimed. “Babygirl, when we're done with you, you won’t be able to sit for weeks. Everyone at the precinct will wonder what happened during the weekend,” he kissed you while Sonny added a third finger inside your core. You felt a second orgams building inside your belly.

“You better not come on Sonny’s fingers,” Rafael warned you, “You’re only allowed to come on our cocks,” you found him in the room and locked eyes with him.

You knew from his expression what he was waiting for, “Yes, sir,” you agreed.

“That’s our good girl,”

Then it was Sonny’s. The man has a soft spot for a good doggy style, so he ordered you to get on all fours and you obeyed. He stroked his cock between your ass cheeks for a moment before sliding inside you so easily. “God, you take us so well, baby,” he said as he started to thrust. He was faster than Nick, and you know from experience that Sonny has incredible stamina. He can rock inside you hard and fast for a long moment.

“You feel so good inside me,” you moaned, “Fuck, Sonny! Yes!”

“That’s right, take that cock, doll,” he said, slamming harder.

As you grabbed the sheets into your fists, you felt someone crawling under you. It was Nick. He laid down and brought your mouth to his in an eager kiss. Sonny kept fucking you, his hands were strongly holding your hips, so you understood it was someone else that spank you. Mike or Rafael, you didn’t know - although, you had an idea; Rafael does love to spank you - and you cried inside Nick’s mouth. Then you felt someone grabbing your arms to lock them in your back. Nick held you close against him, stroking your hair as your second orgasm hit you hard.

Feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, and hearing you cursing non sense, sent Sonny over the edge. He almost collapsed on you as he came deep inside you.

You felt the emptiness when Sonny took his cock out of you but it was quickly filled by someone’s fingers. You were just a pile of lambs on Nick, but you jolted when one of them curled two fingers inside your pussy. “You love that, don’t you? Nick’s and Sonny’s cum mixing inside you,” You don’t know if that’s Rafael that is fingering you but he’s the one talking. You were still catching your breath when the fingers were replaced by a cock teasing your entrance.

“Do you want to keep going, babygirl? We can st--”

“I didn’t say the word, did I, Mike?” you shot.

“Right. Then it’s my turn to fill that pussy,” he didn’t give you the time to answer, he shoved his cock inside your cunt.

“Oh fuck! Mike, yes!”” you cried.

Nick stayed under you as Mike fucked you hard. Mike’s short nails scratched your back as he went in and out of you. He withdrew completely before sinking back and bottoming down. He did that a few times, enjoying your noises every time he hit your sweet spot. “Damn, that pussy is so perfect,” he growled.

“It was made for us,” Sonny said.

On your left, you saw Rafael standing there, stroking his cock as he watched Mike fucking you. You extended your hand to replace his and he let you. “You can’t get enough,” he teased you.

“Never,” you grinned.

Mike grabbed your hair in his fist, bringing your back to his chest. That new angle almost sent you over the edge again. “Holy shit, this feels amazing,” you breathed out. You didn’t notice the look Rafael and Sonny exchanged. You sloppily kept stroking Rafael, while Sonny’s hand found its way to your clit. Mike had to hold you close to him as a third orgasm arrived.

Nick was still laying on the bed, an arm under his head. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s like my very own porn movie,”

“Get ready to take a new part in it,” Sonny winked at him.

“Working on it,” he said, stroking his semi hard cock.

Sonny chuckled before burying his face in your chest. He sucked on your nipples, and kept playing with your clit. “Jesus, fuck! I--I’m--coming,” you managed to say as your third orgasm hit. You held onto Sonny’s shoulder for dear life, Mike was slamming so hard and fast inside you, chasing his own orgasm. He bit your shoulder as he emptied himself deep inside you, adding his semence to Sonny’s and Nick’s.

You collapsed in Sonny’s arms and he gently laid you on the bed, next to Nick. Mike was catching his breath on the edge of the bed. “Water,” you managed to say.

Not that it mattered, but Nick seems to be the best for the aftercare. He gently stroked your hair, and planted sweet kisses all over your face. Sonny came back with water for everyone. All of this is more than amazing, this can’t be compared to anything you ever experienced before but you gladly enjoyed the water break.

As you were sitting on the bed, Rafael grabbed your face to kiss you. It was soft, almost loving. Your hands traveled his hairy chest as you granted access to his tongue. You fell on your back, taking him with you. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Never better. Fuck me, Raf,”

On the other side of the bed, Nick chuckled. “Three cocks, three orgasms and she is still asking for it. You’re such a pretty slut, Y/N, aren't you?”

“I’m your slut. To the four of you,” you smiled at him.

Rafael teased your entrance with his cock as he was kissing and nipping your neck. Your pussy was a wet and sticky mess. The other men fucked you open, Rafael slided inside you so easily. To be honest, he wasn’t far from coming already after everything he witnessed and you wrapped him so perfectly, it was overwhelming.

You moaned loudly in his ear, your nails digging in his skull. As he thrusted into you, he couldn’t help but to slap your thigh, since he can’t reach your ass for a proper spank. But you could reach his, so you returned the favor. It took him by surprise, so did the growl he let out. “Someone likes to be spank,” Sonny commented, before duplicating your action on Rafael’s ass.

Another spank, but this time from Mike. And one from Nick. You loved having all the attention from the guys, but you have to admit that this brings something else to you. Hopefully this will be repeated before you go back to New York, but this time, this will be an orgy, instead of a gangbang.

You bit Rafael’s bottom lip, as he thrusted fast and hard inside you. “Give it to me, Raf. I need you to cum inside me, just like them,” he crashed his lips on yours, as a hand traveled between the two of you to play with your clit. You were oversensitive, and exhausted, you weren’t sure you could have a fourth orgasm before it hit you. You wrapped your arms around Rafael’s neck, “That’s right, babygirl, let it go. Cum on my cock,” he said in your ear, huskily.

That was exactly what you needed to cum one more time. Rafael’s thrusts became sloppy as he chased his relief. Finally, he added his liquid to the mixture and collapsed on you.

*****

“I have to admit, I’m so glad everyone else canceled,” you confessed, laying like a sea star on the bed. Obviously, the four men agreed with you.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” they all said at the same time.

Best fucking birthday ever.

#thatesqcrushsummerbingo #rafael barba x reader #sonny carisi x reader #nick amaro x reader #mike dodds x reader

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char-lotta · 3 years

Text

Never alone

Pairing: Jake x MC

Words: 4,1 k

Summary: Someone couldn’t handle herself while texting Jake and there is no turning back.

Warnings: If sex scenes aren’t your thing, this fic isn’t for you. 🔥

My native language isn't english, so forgive me the possible grammar errors.

Never alone

Jake: Can you focus on what we are doing, please?

You read the message and something large clogged your throat. Is it possible that he knew what you were doing?

MC: I am focused. I just got distracted for a second, sorry about that.

Jake: Good. So, are you on board for this? It isn’t too hard task for you?

Oh yes, it is, and you know it. How can I possible focus on anything while discussing with you? It was so strange feeling, since you had never seen his face, but you imagined him as tall, with dark hair and well-built. You had dreamt about him for weeks now, even while you were awake. It has almost become an obsession to you, and you checked your phone probably a hundred times a day, just to see those sweet three words… Jake is online.

MC: So, what is exactly you want me to do?

You saw the pencil mark as a sign that he was writing and apparently deleting the written message few times. There was this tingling feeling in your toes and you felt slightly nauseous. You were longing for a message, where he would tell you to take off your shirt and give you a new instruction. You knew that he could told you to do anything, and you would oblige easily without a doubt. Your nipples went hard even for that thought and you had this longing sensation, like an ache, between your legs, demanding and pulsating. The top you were wearing was a long gone and you laid on your back on the sofa and the only light in the room was the light coming from your phone. Your hands wandered through your body with light brushes, occasionally rubbing your breasts, and you closed your eyes. You imaged that those hands weren’t yours, but Jake’s. You drew circles with your fingers at the surface of your skin, ending up on the waist band of your panties. Slowly, you touched yourself in a trembling hand, and small moan escaped through your lips, waking you up from this daydream and the imaginary picture of Jake in your mind vanished. Frustrated, you took your hand away and put the shirt back on. But he would never do that, and you just knew it. You had confessed that you liked him, and he said that he liked you too. The warming feel with those words was overwhelming and you had returned them many times, just to remind yourself that he had feelings for you too. But I like you too, is such a vague impression after all and could be just a compliment too. How could this ever work since you didn’t even know where he was?

Jake: I don’t want you to do anything what compromises your safety. You know that, right?

Jake: So, forget all your plans going there loudly with cavalry. Since all you have, is me, and I hardly am “the cavalry”.

But you are all I need and all I want, you wanted to respond. But something held you back, and you were afraid that Jake would go offline. You tucked a lost strand of hair back to behind your ear and sighted. Why, why on earth this was so fucking hard. And for god’s sake, you two were just texting and you couldn’t contain yourself. You imagined meeting Jake in person, but how embarrassed you would feel, since you could not even say those things via text, how could you ever say them aloud?

MC: I do know that. I will be discreet, no one will see me.

Jake: Be careful. We will talk again after your mission.

You had feeling that your discussion was coming to an end and the tears started blurring your sight. You just wanted to be close to him, even though it was in opposite ends of two screens between you two. You had been in this situation many times before, and each time it felt harder. It was so utterly crushing to lose contact now and you typed so quickly that you didn’t have time to even think about what you should say to him. Knowing that you were alone the next few weeks.

MC: Don’t go. Just don’t leave me now. I miss you so much. I love you. Don’t go.

When you saw your own words flashing through the screen and realized that you had lost your self-discipline, those tears that you had tried to not let loose, came like spring water, draining your cheeks. You didn’t want to look what Jake replied (or did he even reply?) and you felt so powerless and weak, and those feelings had been inside you for a very long time suppressed. You threw your phone back at the sofa and paced around your living room, cursing under your breath. You fucking idiot, why would you say that? He doesn’t love you back, you stupid girl. If he would, he would have come and get you already.

You heard that you got messages, multiple messages, but you didn’t want to see them. Jake was probably telling her now that they two together were too dangerous and he was wanted by the government… But you didn’t care. If he just would have asked, you would give up your life as you know it without a hesitation. You could move and go no-contact with your friends and family, you would give up your job, that you loved. Because you loved him more.

You loved him.

And this was the thought last on your mind when you cried yourself to sleep.

****

You had no idea what time it was, but it was night since it was so dark that you couldn’t see anything. The silence was overwhelming and pressuring, and you laid without moving on your bed covers, and suddenly you just knew, that you were not alone. The only noise in you could hear was your own breathing and you stopped it for a second; but you couldn’t hear anything. You opened your eyes carefully and looked your apartment. Since you lived in a studio, you could see the whole room from your bed. Your heart was pounding so loud and fast that you were afraid it would escape through your ribcage any second now.

You looked thoroughly the room and you couldn’t see anyone or anything moving. Slowly you pulled out from your bed and turned the light on. There was no one in the room. You searched your apartment cautiously, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. Just when you were going back to bed, you noticed that the window in the separate kitchen was open. Had you forgot to close it? You looked from your window to the yard, but there was nothing. You shut the window second time that night and stared at the darkness, but still, there was nothing to be seen. Remembering last nights text messages made you frown, but you would deal it in the morning. You yawned and turned around.

Just when you thought you couldn’t handle your heart anymore, it stopped and felt ice-cold. There was this dark figure in the corner, just a few footsteps from you. You saw the dark figure was a man with a hood and it was covering his face, so you couldn’t see who he was. But you didn’t need the to see anything more, because you knew who was standing in your home instantly. It just wasn’t possible...

“Jake?” you whispered in utter disbelief. This must be a dream. You pinched yourself from your thigh so forcefully, that it hurt like a hell.

The hooded figure seemed to be alarmed and hesitant, but he didn’t move or say anything.

“Jake? Is it really you?” you asked softly, and the man slowly nodded. The movement of his head was so small, that you weren’t sure if you were seeing correctly. You had no idea what to say anymore, this situation had surprised you fully. You had had these dreams, but now when he was really here, you were so lost on what to do.

“Has something happened?” you asked, voice trembling. Your knees felt that they were going to betray you any moment now. Suddenly the man made a noise, and it took a while when you understood, that he was actually laughing. The laugh didn’t sound joyful, it was more a bitter tone.

“Apparently I have gone mad”, he said in a raspy voice. “I swore that I would protect you and here I am, putting you a more danger that you ever have been.”

You shifted the weight of you to another foot, trying to understand what Jake had just said.

“What do you mean by that? How am I in danger?”

“What else this could be? I am wanted by all kind of people and none of them are on the good side” Jake spat angrily, and you felt his eyes piercing you, even though you couldn’t see his eyes. You suddenly came very, very aware that you didn’t have any trousers on, just the panties. Your hands moved to cover yourself but at the same time, you had dreaded this moment since you ever had chatted with him in the first place. But why was he so angry?

“Could I see your face?” you asked, and you didn’t recognize your voice anymore. Since when you had sounded like that? Maybe your wildest dreams were happening, and you couldn’t believe it.

“No.” His voice was harsh and cold. You felt instant disappointment roaming thorough your body, crushing your hopes.

“But why? You can see mine.”

“Let’s not make this any more complicated than it is”, he frowned and took a step back, adding more shadows in his figure.

“Why are you here then?” The now unrecognizable voice was mad. You felt anger rising somewhere inside of you, making room for itself pushing all the hopeful thoughts aside. “Why the fuck are you in my home in the middle of the night if I can’t even see you?”

Overwhelmed, you turned around and felt so frustrated. Jake was in your home; you finally had met him, and he forbid you to even look at him. This was nothing like you had imagined, there was nothing romantic in this situation.

“I needed to see you”, you heard him answer and waited more. His voice was not so harsh anymore, but maybe… desperate? You peeked him with corner of your eye. He hadn’t move from his spot.

“Why would you say those things? Why didn’t you answer my messages anymore?” he asked and now he’s voice was definitely trembling. You thought that he was longing something and didn’t know if you could give it to him. You turned back to him and took a step closer to him. You slowly reached your hand towards him, but he didn’t budge. For a second you remembered your semi-nakedness but who the fuck cares. This was more important than a missing pair of jeans.

“Jake”, you said lightly and even saying his name aloud gave you a light blush. Get yourself together, you command yourself. “Are you that daft?” you burst, and this was clearly not the answer Jake had expected since you heard offended huff from the darkness.

“I was so embarrassed with my own words, who betrayed me coming out like that, because I had agreed with myself that I would not vocalize my feelings towards you. But I do love you which is absolutely crazy and how on earth I could love something I haven’t never seen or heard before? That would freak out anyone, let alone you, who is forced to work with me to find his sister” you ranted, now looking on anything else except him.

“I don’t expect you to love me back, and I am so sorry for distracting our search towards Hannah. I won’t do it again, I promise. We can never talk about this incident again.” You feel those stupid tears again and flickered your eyes. Oh no, don’t cry NOW!

Everyone who has ever heard silence, know how disturbing it can be. The silence what landed between you and Jake was so thick and full of fear and anxiousness and you waited -, no, - you feared his response. It felt like a small eternity when he finally responded.

“MC…” he said, and that was all he said. Nothing else. You waited but there was nothing more. Feeling so defeated and humiliated, you just wanted to get away from him and started walking out of the kitchen.

But he finally grabbed your hand and pulled you in to the shadows with him. Your confused brain could only register his musky smell and his other hand on your lower back when he pulled you closer. His lips carefully brushed yours and your head felt like exploding. Adrenaline flushed through your veins so fast that it made you feel dizzy, and you grasped his hoodie to stay balanced. You leaned towards him and felt his breath on your face, and you opened your lips, welcoming his.

You had never been kissed like that and it had never felt so good. His lips were demanding, and his grip tightened on your hand; your hands were in his hair, trying to get him closer. You both gasped air between the kisses and his hand moved from your back to your bottom, and you tangled your leg behind his. He let go of your hand and lifted you to his lap and turned you two around landing you on the counter top and you could hear cutlery dropping on the floor. Your brains screamed with joy and happiness, wishing this moment could continue forever. There was only you and Jake in this world, and nothing couldn’t stop you two, you wouldn’t care if the Man Without a Face would have entered the room.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your neck and every kiss he made, left you with a burning sensation and you could not do anything else than moan. You could feel his lips changing from gently kisses to more intense and rougher around your neck and he nibbled behind your earlobe quite forcefully.

“Jake…” you moaned again with pleasure and sent your hands exploring his body, you just wanted to have all of him.

“This is incredibly stupid” you heard him say somewhere lower and you can’t help but giggle a bit. “Why does it feel so good then?” you asked, and he answered by cupping your breast and squeezing it gently and sucked your earlobe at the same time. You could see that the darkness had lifted since moon was shining from the window, lighting the room. He had a dark hair, as you had imagined, and it seemed that other of your predictions had done well too. Jake let go of your ear and looked at you and you could see his blue eyes were full of lust and something else… He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you pulled him closer between your legs with your feet.

“You are so fucking beautiful, MC”, he said in a raspy voice, still looking at you. “But I did actually know that already. I just needed to see you with my own eyes”. I presumed that he meant that he had seen my social media profiles, and probably something else, that I wasn’t aware of, since he was a hacker.

“I presume that I am not alone with my feelings?” you asked and did not know, what made you so courageous. You two looked each other and time had stopped. Still caressing your cheek, Jake sighed.

“I am not good with expressing emotions. And still, this is incredibly stupid.”

Now was your turn feel offended. How could this burning feeling inside of you be stupid? And why couldn’t he just admit that they were more than pen pals from mystery series of Duskwood? Maybe he didn’t care you as much as you liked to think.

“Yeah, maybe you are right”, you said in a hurt tone and lowered your gaze. “If I am the only one here with feelings, this is going to be a torture for me if we continue.” You let your hands rest on your lap.

“Who’s the daft now?” Jake asked amused and lifted up your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t come all the way here to tell you I didn’t love you.”

“What are you telling me then?” You didn’t dare to hope for any answer. Jake kissed you again, but you broke the kiss soon (even though it was incredibly hard) and looked him desperate.

“Jake… Please”, you whispered.

He looked you and looked defeated.

“If I say it, there’s no turning back. I feel like I’m trapping you with me, and trust me, it isn’t comfortable place to be in life at this moment.”

“I want to be trapped with you with every cell of my body” you assured him quickly. And you meant every word you said, because this, right here, was where you wanted to be. With Jake.

“I…” he started, and you stopped breathing. You had longed for this moment ages and could not believe that this was happening. Your whole body waited for he to continue his sentence.

“I never want to be separated from you” he whispered. “You are amazing and beautiful, and still so frustrating and stubborn. I came here to tell you that we are better off just friends for both of our protection, but now I am with you and you are just… you! You just look at me and I forget everything I was supposed to say and all I want to do is pull you closer and never let go.”

You exhaled and noticed that he was shaking, and you were surprised to see that you were too. “Well then don’t let go”, you whispered back.

He grabbed your waist and shift you closer to him and kissed you passionately, your tongue met his. He nibbled your lower lip, and his hands were wandering again through your body. You wanted to be touched everywhere by him and leaned little bit back so there was room for his hands. He took eagerly your given chance and moved his hands under your shirt. You felt dizzy again and didn’t even notice that you were moaning again when his lips found a way to your cleavage. He looked up as a gesture making sure that this was okay to you.

“Don't you dare to stop”, you gasped.

He didn’t need more confirmation and pulled your shirt up, revealing your upper body. He took a moment to look at you properly and you felt something getting harder inside of his trousers. Your thoughts moved to the forward where he would finally enter you and the pulsating, aching feeling was back. Jake took your nipple between his lips and sucked it gently and for a moment you were so sure, that you would pass out for the pleasure. He caressed you with his hands and mouth, moving the hands slowly to the waistband of your panties. You tried to take of his shirt, but he gently pushed your hands off back to the counter top as he focused on you; you had no choice than enjoy the ride.

His fingers felt warm when he finally touched you under the panties. You knew that you were soaking wet, but when he started rubbing your clit, you could see the star constellations. Your moans weren’t subtle anymore, and with each noise you made, he seemed to get more fuel on his actions. Jake pulled your panties off easily, revealing you completely. He took he’s moment again to admire you and before you knew, he was continuing rubbing your clit with his thumb and the other hands fingers were inside you, fastening the pace with every moan you let slip. You could feel his tongue on your nipple again and you grabbed his hair. All you felt was pleasure, you had never felt so good in your life; all your emotions from last month while texting Jake and developing one-sided feelings towards him came to final conclusion – you weren’t alone in this after all, and this made you so utterly happy. Your vision started to blur, and you lost your sense of everything else except the overwhelming feeling of relieve when you orgasmed. When you finally came back to your senses, you felt Jake gently lightening his pressure on you and you breathed heavily, trying to get some air. Your smile was contagious, and Jake grinned while watching you.

“What?”

“Like I said”, he murmured, “you are amazing.”

You pulled him for a kiss which deepened shortly. At the same time, your hands found his belt and you started undressing him with his help. When you got rid of his shirt, you saw scars on his torso, and you looked them in confusion.

“Another time, okay?” Jake asked and you nodded and same time you felt butterflies in the bottom of your stomach. Another time…

He opened his belt and lowered his trousers revealing black underwear with a promising bulge in the groin, and you could not wait to get rid of these barriers anymore, Jake was laughing for your enthusiasm and this time, the laugh sounded like it should be; light, happy and a bit teasing.

“I cannot wait you to be inside of me” you confessed, and he did as you told. You could feel him in your entrance, dipping in just the tip. Your whole body was ready, and your mind was yelling you all kind of naughty words and Jake looked you just like he could hear them. He kissed you playfully and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jake”, you moaned, “you are driving me crazy.”

“Now you know how I feel”, he said and took a good grip from your hair, pulling your head back and forced his lips on yours. You felt him entering inside of you and you moaned so hard, that it was a more of a shout than a moan. The thrusts went harder as he listened you carefully first, and all you could do was to say “yes”.

The sex wasn’t like you had imagined, but it was better. It wasn’t gentle and loving, it was rough and needy, and you felt both of you were pouring out all of those long-suppressed feelings and dreams of you two, the desperation with the dangers and the times you two tried to forget each other’s as it was just mad to fell in love with stranger. But here you two were, having sex in your kitchen, against all the odds.

You grabbed the cupboards above you trying to hold your position as Jake pounded in you and you kept drifting in the back of the counter top. Jake suddenly pulled you down from the surface, turned and bent you over, and entered you again, going in deeper with every thrust. You could hear his breathing tightening up and getting faster, as well yours. He grabbed your hair again, which you didn’t know that you liked before, but oh boy, how it made things better. You felt the orgasm coming again and you couldn’t help but scream and arch your back with incoming wave of pleasure. You didn’t hear yourself, but you were screaming Jake’s name, and that was the final straw for him, as he came inside of you.

****

You sat on Jake's lap and laid your head to his chest, as your fingers draw circles on his chest. He kissed you on your forehead and played with your hair.

“Jake?” you asked. “What happens now?”

He looked you in deep with his thoughts and you were wondering, would you even want to hear answer to your question.

“Well. This definitely complicates things”, he said finally.

“You can’t go offline now”, you teased him, trying to lighten the mood. “Can we solve this together?”

“So, we’re together now?” he asked with one of his eyebrows up and you bump your fist in his chest lightly. “That is not how to respond to a lady who has just had sex with you”.

“That is correct”, he frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you have any objections at the topic of us being together?” you asked, and he could hear the worry in your voice.

“Well, I said it before. There’s no turning back now”, Jake gazed you intensely, caressing your cheekbones, “You’re stuck with me now.”

Knowing how hard it was to him say these things aloud, you took this as a victory and snuggled to get better position on his lap. He did love you as much you love him, and both of you know that.

“Just where I want to be. With you. No matter what.”

#duskwood #everbyte studios #duskwood jake #jake x mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood smut #duskwood jake x player #jake x player

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encanto17 · 2 years

Text

Some Headcanons/Fanfic Inspos About Julieta & Agustín's Relationship ;)

Ok so I'm hoping this sounds good cuz I've never written anything like this, and feel free to do with them what you want. If you write a full-length fic you can (don't have to) tag me, but I would love to see it XD I might write a few "real" fics later on here and/or when I get an AO3 account, but until then, enjoy these! Also, I'm really sorry if there's a lot here. I got excited to write this XD I guess you can consider this just a fanfic plot without dialogue and things XD

These aren't really based off of the movie so don't come at me, this is just for fun and to write some ideas down. There might be some Encanto spoilers too!!!

Before:

Agustín was born in Bogotá to Spaniard parents, and he had three older sisters

His family was upper-class

While he had heard stories of the "Encanto", no one really believed them because they were viewed as local legends

He was always a bit clumsy and sometimes a little stupid, but he was very kind and friendly to everyone

He never really had a love interest while growing up, but he did love nature (except bees. He was allergic to bees.)

Being fully honest, he struggled to get along with his family

He ended up studying to become a biologist, and he was traveling throughout South America for his studies

How They Met:

He got a little lost once when he was around 20, and he ended up in a small, isolated town

While in town, he was attacked by bees... so that didn't go so well

A group of young children of the village started yelling for "Julieta" because she could take care of him

When Agustín saw her, he instantly fell in love

She handed him a buñuelo and he was shocked that his bee stings felt better

Julieta refused to tell him of her powers knowing that he was an "outsider" and was afraid that news of the town would get out

That didn't matter because the kids told him all that was up

He honestly didn't care about the magic or powers, he just loved Julieta with all his heart

He stayed in town until night fell, and because he was a little lost, a local family let him stay for the night

He used this as an opportunity to win over Julieta by staying in town for a few days to research a "special flower"- there was no special flower, he just wanted to stay there

On the third day of his visit, he saw her and her sister, Pepa, in town and so he took the opportunity to make his mark

Julieta thought he was sweet but not much else

Dating:

Pepa jokingly convinced her sister to go on a date with him, so she obliged

While Agustín was very excited, Julieta was doing it mostly for the laughs

They had a romantic dinner that night, and afterwards, Julieta realized that she might like him back

They spent the next two days hanging out, with Julieta still playing hard to get, but she introduced him to her family

The family mostly liked him, though Julieta's brother, Bruno, was a little worried he just wanted her healing food

Finally, he decided it was time to go home, so Julieta confessed her love for him, and made him promise to return to the Encanto

For the next year, they communicated with love letters

On the one year anniversary of their first letter, Agustín surprised Julieta with his first visit

While there, he learns that Pepa has a boyfriend herself, from the town

Her boyfriend is a bit of a romantic, and Agustín becomes worried that Julieta would look for someone more like him, and so he gets very clingy and gives her a lot of gifts

After a week-long trip, he returns to Bogotá for three months, still communicating with letters, before he moves to a town near the Encanto to be near Julieta but not *too near*

Now that he can see her two or three times a week, he bonds with her family and friends, epescially Félix, Pepa's boyfriend

He kind of struggled to bond with Bruno, however, even though Bruno had warmed up to him

Their personalities were so different that they just kinda were awkward and had clumsy conversations

After two years of living near Julieta, he receives Alma's permission to marry

Engagement & Wedding:

He surprises Julieta in a romantic little spot near his village and she, of course, says yes

They spend the first three months of their engagement as they had the past two years, as they work out the details of their wedding

For the next three months, Agustín stayed in Bogotá packing up his things

Towards the end of that time, Julieta visits him for a week

This is the first time that she meets his family, and while they get along, the family would prefer that they didn't get married

With this in mind, they agree to not share the news about her magical gift

Then, for the next six months, Agustín returns to his village near hers

Pepa takes this time to work on adding some new space to Casita

Bruno tried to communicate with his brother-in-law more, and they figured out how to be friends, even though Agustín didn't necessarily understand him

Finally, they get married at the local church, and Agustín's family decides not to come because this village was "too low-class"

Of course, Pepa is Julieta's maid of honor

In keeping with tradition, Agustín asks Bruno to be the best man, but he denies due to nerves, so Félix ends up taking that position

The flower girl and ring bearer are from the group of kids that saw Agustín with the bees

While the ceremony is calm and traditional, the reception is full-on chaos and fun

During the reception at Casita, Bruno goes up and hides in his room because it was too noisy, but Félix goes and gets him

Later on in the night/early morning, after many have gone home, Félix ends up proposing to Pepa (and of course she says yes, too!)

They end up skipping the honeymoon but choose to explore the village more

The Early Years of Marriage:

The first four years of marriage were fairly calm

Two years into it, Félix and Pepa get married

Agustín and Félix became absolute best friends, bringing chaos into every situation

As time goes on, Agustín warms up to Bruno's "quirks", somewhat because Félix insisted that he was included in every adventure

Agustín and Julieta went on a lot of romantic double dates with Félix and Pepa

Three years after the wedding, Agustín takes Julieta to Bogotá for a week to see his family and meet his newest nieces and nephews

It turns out his family still wasn't very happy with him, so after three days, they went to explore the city, keeping Julieta and her family and village a secret

A few months after that, Julieta finds out that she is pregnant, and Agustín cannot wait to be a papá

He was very nervous, and was constantly taking care of his wife and baby

He always hoped for a daughter

When baby Isabela was born, he was so excited to have a little girl

He was very protective of his baby, and carried her everywhere

His theory is that, the reason why she has flowers as her gift, is because of the lie he told Julieta so that he could stay in the village

After her Gift Ceremony, Agustín admitted to his family that that was a lie

Ok so I hope that was good!!! I know that was choppy and things but hopefully that can give you some ideas, and maybe give me some ideas too XD If you want any expansions on any of this, or ideas for future hcs, let me know! Thank you for reading!!! :D

#encanto #encanto disney #disney encanto #encanto julieta #encanto agustín #encanto pepa #encanto felix #encanto alma #encanto bruno #encanto hcs #encanto headcanons #encanto fanfics #encanto fanfic #encanto fanfic ideas #the madrigals #casita madrigal #encanto movie #encanto pelicula

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viking-raider · 3 years

Text

Hoist the Colours - Part I

Summary: Your father is given a governorship of a Caribbean island and you accompany him on the voyage, a new start, for the both of you. But, it doesn’t go as either of you planned, or well.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 8,841

Warning: Pirate!Henry, Fluff, Angst, Mention of death, Violence, Language, Kidnapping, Ransom

Inspiration: It’s Henry and Pirates! I got the idea after watching Pirates of the Caribbean one day!

Author’s Note: I wanted to post something new to treat the fandom. As always, thank you to the lovely @wondersofdreaming for helping me along with my stories.

The room creaked and groaned, swaying back and forth at a quick and nauseating pace, the booms and cracks coming from outside the door were muffled by the thick wood. He pushed you into the corner, panting, sweating and bleeding heavily.

“Henry.” You whimpered, trembling with fright and adrenaline.

“Sshh, it's all right.” He wheezed, breathing labored and sat down on the bed that was in the corner. “Here, look at me, my love.” He said, forcing a smile as he cupped your cheek in his shaking hand, leaving a bloody print with it. “We'll be all right, my sweet. The men are strong and capable, they'll rid the ship of these mongrels.”

“It doesn't seem like it.” You fretted, biting your lip and glancing at the barred door as something very heavy struck it.

Henry chuckled and kissed the corner of your mouth, you could taste the blood from the split on his bottom lip. “We've encountered worse on these seas, I assure you.” He groaned softly. “But, I must tell you, of all the treasures and gold I have plundered in my lifetime as a Pirate, you are the greatest of them all.”

3rd August 1686

It was a sunny morning in London, the sea air sweeping over the city, keeping it cool as Londoners and it's other residents went about their daily business. You stood on the balcony of your parents' home, taking deep breaths of the sea air and could hear your maid bustling about your room, packing your things for the voyage you and your father would be taking the next day. Your father, Thomas, had been appointed Governor of the newly colonized Lockemirth Island in the Caribbean, and you were to accompany him, with no other prospects for staying in London, and after the death of your mother the year before, he felt the both of you needed a fresh start in the world, and the governorship was that opportunity.

“Miss?” Your maid called, appearing in the balcony doorway.

You turned towards her, lifting a brow. “Yes, Jane?”

“Everything you've asked me to pack has been so.” She informed you, bundling the sides of her skirts and bowing softly to you.

“Thank you, Jane.” You smiled softly at her, saddened that you would be leaving the place that had been home all your life, away from your friends and all the seasonal events that kept London busy.

You doubted there would be such high society events like London's, on a teeny island in the Caribbean, expecting and loathing the boredom and loneliness that would no doubt fill your days there. Sighing and softly closing your eyes for a moment, you stepped back into the house as sweaty movers appeared in your room to collect the crates of the things you would be taking with you on the voyage, and taking them downstairs to the foyer, to later be moved to the storage haul of the HMS Kilmartin.

“Ma'am.” One of the movers tipped the brim of his sweat stained and worn flat hat, as he and the other mover muscled the heavy wooden crate out the double doors of your room.

“Sir.” You nodded your head politely to him, then they were gone, grunting and groaning down the spiral staircase. “I shall miss this place, Jane.” You sighed, sitting down on the edge of your bed and stared out the window. “I heard the island region is prone to hurricanes, that kick up tremendous winds and rain, capable of flattening everything in its wake.”

“Gracious.” Jane gasped, sweeping the dry packing straw that had fallen to the floor, while things were being packed into the crates. “Sounds frightening.”

“It does.” You agreed with her, a knot of fear in your stomach at the thought of being caught in such a storm.

What would you and your father do, if such a storm hit the island whilst you were there? Even worse, what if one happened, while you were still sailing to the island? It would undoubtedly cause the ship to sink, taking you, your father and everyone aboard down with it!

“And the pirates, Miss.” Jane added, after a moment of silence.

“No pirate is stupid enough to attack a ship of His Royal Highness, King James II.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at her. “It would be a grave mistake on their part, the King doesn't suffer pirates, nor does my father for that matter. It's part of the reason he was appointed Governor of the island, to prevent pirates from getting their greedy and filthy hands on it.”

“Like they did with Nassau.”

“Of course.” Jane nodded, shyly.

You sighed again, but deep down you were concerned about the pirates, your father had mentioned only the night before that one of the royal ships had been attacked and boarded by pirates on their way to Port Royal. They had taken most of the cargo and killed several of the crew members, before finally returning to their own ship and vanishing on the horizon. You tried to soothe your own fears by repeating the same you told Jane inside your mind, that no pirate would attack a royal ship. But, it barely eased that fear and anxiety.

If anything, it made it worse.

The next day, Jane woke you earlier than usual and helped you dress, before you went downstairs for one more breakfast in the house. Your father was already sitting at the table, a steaming cup in front of him and the daily newspaper in his hand. He set it down as you entered the room, standing to greet you with a smile and gently kiss your cheek, before you took your seat at the table and Jane laid out your breakfast before you.

“Thank you.” You smiled at her, picking up a fork.

“Are you ready for our voyage, my dear?” Your father asked, sipping his tea and regarding you over its rim.

“As I can be, father.” You replied, picking up your own cup of tea. “How long will it take?”

“With good weather and wind, hopefully no longer than seven weeks.” He informed you, setting his cup down on its little saucer. “With terrible weather, it could be as long as three months.”

“Let's hope it is the former, instead of the latter, then, shall we?” You smiled over at him, nervously.

“Don't worry about the journey, my sweet petal.” He said, smiling at you in a way parents did, when they were trying to be reassuring, while also hiding their own fears and worry.

“All will be well.”

You didn't argue with him.

Besides, your father had far more sailing experience than you did. He had once been a member of His Royal Majesty's, King Charles I's Royal Navy, reaching the rank of Captain, before meeting your mother, retiring and trying his hand in politics, quite successfully, at that. You on the other hand, had never been on a boat, unless you counted the little rowboat James Turner took you in to cross a small river to a picnic spot he had set up for you, during last year's social season, with Jane as chaperon. You had wondered then, as he half struggled to row the vessel, why you were doing so, when there was a small, and perfectly useful, foot bridge not ten meters away from the small dock he had pushed off from.

But, just like now, you didn't argue or question it, he wanted to be romantic, and your father was trying to be protective and reassuring.

Your father took his pocket watch out, the highly polished gold cover popping open, its soft ticks reached you as he frowned down at it, then snapped it shut again and tucked it back into his pocket. Heaving a sigh, he downed the rest of his cooled tea, neatly folded his half read newspaper and rested back against his chair, quietly regarding you across the table, while you finished your breakfast.

“Edward, have the carriage readied, we must leave in no more than twenty minutes.” He called out to his servant, before rising to his feet.

He bowed politely to you and left the room, you knew where he was going, to your mother's rooms. Your father had shut up her rooms the day of her funeral, not wanting a single item inside to be disturbed out of the places she had put them in. She had been sick for some time, but in the last month of her life, she had gotten far worse. Your father employed every respectable doctor London had, even the physician the King himself used. But, all of them had a different diagnosis and treatment for what supposedly ailed her, and none of them worked, most of them only made her worse. So, she wasted away until there was nothing left of her, but skin and bones, and she passed away. Your father was understandably distraught and brokenhearted by her death, only mechanically doing his obligations, always standing, motionless, in her dark and tomb-like rooms, as if he stood there long enough, time would rewind and bring her back to him.

There was no doubt in your mind, that's where he was going, to say one last good-bye to her, before you both set sail for Lockemirth, for what would likely be several years, if not forever. You had already sneaked into her room, during the night, taking a ruby necklace that she loved to wear, as a token to remember her by and to feel as if, in a way, she was accompanying you both on the journey.

“Are you ready, my dear?” His voice asked as he descended the staircase to join you in the foyer, lifting a graying brow at you.

“As I can be, Father.” You replied, stomach clenching inside your corset.

He smiled at you, fingertips gently brushing your cheek, while Edward opened the front doors. “Into a brave new world, my loving daughter.” He said, looping his arm with yours and escorted you out into the rising morning sun, the family carriage already waiting for you both, door open and horses patiently standing at attention.

Your father helped you inside the carriage, then followed after you, rapping his knuckles on the door to signal the driver to move forward. Both of you watched as the beloved house slowly disappeared from view, soon falling away to the wharves of London harbor. The sea air was even stronger on the wharves, mixed with the strong scents of seaweed, fish, the unwashed bodies of sailors long at sea and hot tar. The HMS Kilmartin was easy enough to spot on the wharves, its masts standing tall amongst the others, rocking in the gentle swell of the waves coming off the ocean, it glittered in the rays of the new day, showing off its blue, white and gold paint job, it was immaculate. It gave you a great measure of relief to see it, it seemed infinitely more steady and reliable than the other ships in the harbor.

“Shall we find out if you have sea legs like your dear father?” He teased you, as you approached the gangplank leading up onto the deck.

You tried to give him an amused smile, before following him up the swaying plank, but you weren't truly amused at the prospect of finding out if you were prone to seasickness or not. You dearly hoped you wouldn't be though, all you needed was this voyage to be even longer and more miserable then it already would be without you losing your stomach with every movement of the ship.

Stepping onto the deck, you clutched your father's arm tighter and planted your feet against the unaccustomed sway. Your father chuckled and helped you steady yourself, standing there for several long minutes to allow you to acclimate, then started forward again, slowly, baby step by baby step. A pair of doors swung open and a man appeared out of them, dressed completely in Royal Navy attire, giving away his station as the Captain of the ship.

“Sir Thomas.” The Captain smiled at your father, striding over to you both with the confidence of a man walking on land, instead of on the swaying deck of a ship. “This must be your lovely daughter.” He smiled at you next, sweeping off his hat and bowing to you.

“Indeed, sir.” Your father smiled, looking at you with all and more pride. “My dear, this is Captain Davis.”

“My lady.” Captain Davis greeted you, taking your offered hand and kissing it. “It is a pleasure to have you aboard my ship.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain Davis.” You replied, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks.

Captain Davis's smile broadened at your words, before letting your hand go and looking back to your father. “We have your cabins ready for you, sir. The things you've asked to be taken into them are already there, awaiting you both.” He explained to your father.

“So, shall I show you to your cabins?”

“Please, lead the way, Captain.” Your father nodded and gripped your hand tighter, following Davis into a dim passageway and down a small set of stairs, to the second level of the ship.

“Sir Thomas, your cabin is here.” Captain Davis said, leading the way down a narrow hallway and motioned to a door on the left. “My lady, your cabin is just through there.” He pointed to a door across from your father's. “I do hope the both of you find comfort in them. If you are in need of anything, please inform myself or my Chief Mate, Mr. Gray.” He instructed the both of you.

You and your father thanked him and entered your respective cabins. Your cabin was narrow in length and just wide enough that your fingertips, with your arms stretched out from your sides, barely touched the walls, it reminded you of your closet at home. Sighing, you approached the bed to one side, it was built into the side of the ship, for obvious reasons, with a feather mattress laid into that, and a lip, to keep the bed's occupant from being either rolled out or tossed out with the ship's movement, no matter its speed and the type of waves it was sailing through. There was a porthole across from the bed, where you could only see the side of a ship that was docked beside the Kilmartin.

At the other side of your room was a heavy and deep chest, a chest full of your things, clothing to change into, toiletries and some other home comforts to keep you company, like a book or two. Sighing, you sat down on the bed and stared out the porthole, to what teeny strip of blue and cloudy sky you could see at the top of it.

“I already miss home.” You frowned, chewing on your lip.

It was three weeks into the voyage to Lockemirth Island from London, and you had, more or less, gotten your sea legs; as your father put it. You had only spent the first day and a half hanging over the railing of the main deck, spilling any substance you put in your body, that wasn't already there to start with. All things considered though, you found yourself rather enjoying the life on board the ship, watching the crew go about their duties, pulling and tying ropes as thick as your arms, climbing the rigging like monkeys in trees; you marveled at their ease of doing it without falling or getting tangled up. You would join your father every evening or morning for a row around the main deck, keeping each other company and sane on the long journey.

But, on the second day of the fourth week, as you woke and dressed that morning, something felt different, off to the normal air and movement of the ship. Frowning, you made your way to the top side and heard all the noise and ruckus that was going on. You had grown used to all the noise that came with the ship, but there was more of it, frantically yelled orders and every crew member was in a manic rush to and fro, carrying this and dragging that, not even looking or uttering their usual greetings to you.

It frightened the wits out of you.

You quickly found your father in Captain Davis's quarters, both frantic as the crew, but also angry. Angry at each other, something else or both, you couldn't tell, but you knew the look of fear on your father's face, you had seen it only in times of great peril and strife.

“Papa, what's the matter?” You asked, moving forward to rest your hand on his arm, trying to give him some type of reassurance.

He started, feeling your warm touch on his arm, his billowing sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “My petal.” He gasped, blinking as if it was the first time he had ever set eyes on you. “You should go back down to your cabin, Petal. It's not quite safe for you, just now.”

You frowned at him, increasingly concerned. “Why?” You asked, blinking at him and glancing down at the map on the Captain's vast desk.

“My--” He paused and let out a harsh breath through his nose, a clear sign he's annoyed and at a stalemate for what to do and say. “It's nothing to be concerned with, my Petal. The dear Captain believes he saw an...unfriendly...ship on the horizon this morning.”

“Is it a pirate ship?” You let out in a rush, eyes wide with alarm.

“Of course not, Petal.” Your father chuckled, shaking his head at you. “It was flying the colors of a French flag.”

“It's easy enough for a pirate to fly a false flag in place of their own, until they get close enough to fly it, and at that point, it would be too late for us to escape their guns or their attempt to board us.” A man standing on the other side of the desk said, pessimistically.

“Mr. Gray!” Your father roared, slamming his fist down on the desk and causing several small, lead figurines to jump and fall over. “I would request you holding your tongue with such talk in front of my daughter.” He growled, dangerously.

“Bad luck to have a woman aboard, as is.” Mr. Gray continued, ignoring your father and glaring at you with unmasked distaste.

“It seems the only bad luck on this ship, Mr. Gray,” You hissed back, jaw stiff. “is your attitude.”

Your father repressed a snort of proud laughter into his fist, covering it up with a clearing of his throat. “Be it as it may, Mr. Gray. My daughter is on this ship, and if there were anything of luck to be had, it would be with her.” He told the First Mate, but smiled adoringly at you. “You have nothing to fret over, my Petal. All will be well. That French ship was most likely just sailing back to her home port with merchant goods.”

He took your hand from his forearm and escorted you to the open door of the Captain's quarters. “Didn't you start that lovely needle point work, just yesterday?” He inquired, stepping out of the quarters with you and closing the door behind him. “I simply can not wait for you to finish and show it to me, my dearest.” He told you, sounding most interested and desperate to see the finished product.

“I did.” You nodded, still uneasy about the information you received.

“Then, go back down to your cabin and work on finishing it.” He brought you to the doorway of the passage that led down to your cabins. “I'll be down shortly and we'll take our customary round about the deck. How does that sound?” He asked, grinning at you sweetly, too sweetly.

“Of course, Father.” You acquiesced with a soft sigh, you could tell he was overwhelmed with worry and frustration and didn't wish to add to it, so you conceded, bowing your head obediently to him.

“That's a dear girl.” He smiled at you, kissing your forehead, then returned to the Captain's quarters. “So, who do we think it was?” He asked, leaning against the desk and surveying the map, the knocked over figurines having been put back in their places.

“This time of the year?” Mr. Gray replied, stroking his smooth chin. “It could be anybody. Actual French, the Spanish, but more than likely, pirates.”

“Oh, come off it, Richard.” Captain Davis huffed, mopping his sweaty face with his handkerchief.

“I'm serious, Godfrey.” Gray huffed back at him, angered that his word wasn't being trusted. “It's hurricane season in the Caribbean, the Spanish and French, unless on official business wouldn't be sailing out here. We only are because we must get the new Governor and his daughter, to Lockemirth, or we too would be anchored in London Harbor. The only people crazy enough to sail in these waters are those and pirates, that know other ships will be anchored in harbors, or trying to reach harbor before a storm brews in, so they could take advantage of their desperation.”

“It was sailing clear in the other direction, Richard.” Davis answered, shaking his head at his First Mate's paranoia. “That was at first light this morning. If it was a pirate seeking advantage, we would have seen the change of course and reappear in our wake.”

“That was four hours ago.” Thomas replied, pressing his lips together. “They wouldn't have been able to stay in our wake and out of our sight for that long, in fear of losing us.” He explained, trying to be rational with the two of them.

“Sir Thomas is correct, Richard.” Davis agreed, dropping into the chair behind his desk. “They would have been re-spotted in some capacity. They have not been, so it can only be a French ship returning to her port, most likely a head of any storms that might form.” He said, pressing his fingertips to his thumping and sweaty temples. “I have Mr. Michaels on watch duty, he'll tell us if another, or the same ship, is spotted in our wake. So, until then, gentlemen, I recommend not wasting your energy and strength of fretting about it.”

Looking at each other, Sir Thomas and Mr. Gray nodded their heads at the Captain and excused themselves from his quarters, returning to their usual morning places. Your father came down to your cabin and after answering several of your worried questions, the pair of you went up onto the deck and started doing your rounds about it, the crew was in less of rush and panic, now that Mr. Gray had given them orders to ease their distress, greeting you and your father as you passed by them.

The two of you were having lunch together with Captain Davis, when Mr. Gray came barreling into the room, out of breath and only making the smallest apologies for barging in without knocking or ceremony. Captain Davis wiped his mouth and dropped his silk napkin beside his plate with a deep air of irritation, then pushed his chair back and stood.

“What is this about, Mr. Gray?” He demanded, rounding the table to stand face to face with him.

“The ship, sir.” Mr. Gray wheezed, gulping thickly and trying to regain himself. “The French ship has been spotted again, six leagues behind us, Sir.” He informed his Captain, taking a deep gulp of air into his burning lungs.

Captain Davis's head snapped over his shoulder to your father, who was instantly to his feet and going out the door with Davis and Gray. You looked out the large bay window behind the Captain's chair to the endless and sparkling track of ocean and sky, but saw nothing in it, but choppy waves. Jumping to your feet, you rushed out of the room, catching your father's coat tails as he ran up the staircase leading to the upper deck, where the helm was stationed. Captain Davis snatched a folded spy glass from the helmsman, extending it to full length and spied out over the ocean, where Gray was pointing his finger, supposedly where he had seen the ship in question, not moments before.

You watched Davis's stiff shoulders slowly melt, making your anxiety spike, knowing if there was nothing of alarm to be seen, his shoulders would have stayed stiff, but they relaxed, like he was in agreement that there was something trailing behind the ship, and it was nothing good. You looked up as your father looked back at you and saw the same language of Davis's body, in his face.

“There's still no evidence the ship is sailed by pirates.” Davis said, handing his spy glass to your father. “There could be any number of reasons for her to turn back.”

“Why are you acting as if nothing is possibly afoul?” Gray asked, his teeth gritted as he tried to hold his temper with his commanding officer.

Captain Davis did not reply, his unfocused eyes stared off in the direction of the quickly growing black spot, you could now see, on the bright horizon, chewing on his lip as he tried to come up with something to do, some action to take against not only the possibility of the ship being indeed French and either in need of their help or sought to harm them, or if it was a pirate ship sailing under a fake French flag for evil pretenses, such as boarding, plundering and scuttling them.

“Captain!” Gray roared in his face, patience lost. “Orders!”

Davis snapped out of it and his face turned into an expression of hardened steel. “Let out the sails, catch as much of the wind as we can, try to get ahead of them as much as possible, but run out the guns in case we can not!” He snapped, then pushed aside the helmsman manning the ship's wheel.

Gray rushed to the railing overlooking the main deck and shouted the orders down to the crew, who paused for a moment, looking at each other as alarm and the urgency of it set in, then started running around to fulfill the orders. You stood frozen in place, you weren't part of the crew, those orders meant nothing to you in the slightest. So, you knew not what to do with yourself, other than stand there and watch that black spot steadily take the shape of a ship, and a mighty looking ship it was, even at such a distance, you shuddered to think what it would look like even closer still.

Your father clapped shut the spyglass and turned towards you, he looked ashen as your eyes met, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped down his own anxiety and fears, getting a handle on his resolve like a hand snapping closed around something valuable. He blindly held the closed spyglass out to the helmsman, who took it, and strode over to you with deep purpose, catching your elbow in his hand and turning you down the stairs.

“Sir Thomas!” Captain Davis yelled out, catching your father's attention. “Take her into my quarters, she should be safe there!” He said and the two men nodded heads at each other and your father helped you down the stairs and into the Captain's quarters.

“Papa?” You huffed as he escorted you inside, then turned on his boot heels and started out again, without a word to you. “Father!” You snapped, annoyed with him, and truly frightened.

“My Petal, fret not! All will settle down.” He told you, stopping in the doorway. “Once we out run that ship.”

“And if we do not?” You asked, brows lifting at him.

“We will.” He replied, sounding as if he was trying to convince both of you of that fact, before going out, closing and locking the quarters behind him.

Huffing and shaking your head at the door, you paced the room, trying to calm your nerves. Your father never lied to you, so if he said the Kilmartin would outrun the ship, then that's what it would do, and when it did that, it would no longer matter if the ship had good or ill deeds as its intentions against your ship, they would be lost behind and likely give up the chase. Sighing, you sat down on a padded bench under the long window at the back of the ship, staring at the ship that grew closer still.

Within the hour, the ship was considerably closer to the Kilmartin, so close, you could see the little dots of crewmen scurrying about the rigging. It did nothing to ease your anxiety and fear, if anything it made it worse, and knew your father had to be feeling the same way. With another hour or two, the ship would no doubt be alongside yours, then the real trouble and anxiety would set in.

What would they do?

What did they want?

All questions that kept circling your mind as you watched the gap between the two ships narrow more and more as time passed.

You hadn't realized you had dozed off, lulled by the rock of the ship, until you heard a loud boom and a splash of water, making you jerk and gasp. Your eyes snapped out the window and a strong dizzy spell made the room spin a full three hundred and sixty degrees, before steadying on the sight of the ship that had been chasing the HMS Kilmartin for the last several hours, you could see the bow of the ship now, clear as day, as well as the ship's figurehead, a lion's head with a rose in its mouth.

The noise that you had heard was the ship firing one of its cannons as a warning shot, an aggressive suggestion to stop trying to run and yield to them. But, you could tell by the pull of the ship, it hadn't let up an ounce of its speed, still trying to outrun them. You watched two more sails drop into place on their masts and knew, in that instant, that the pursers hadn't been using their ship's full strength to overtake the Kilmartin, they had been toying with them, the whole time.

The ship gained considerable speed in only a few minutes, leaning slightly to the starboard as it was maneuvered to pull alongside the Kilmartin. You jumped up onto your feet and looked out the windows to the side of the ship, watching as the ship slid into place beside yours, you could see the open cannon ports and the guns in place, ready and waiting for the ship's captain to give the order to open fire.

The doors to the quarters burst open and you yelped, startled, but sighed, seeing it was just your father. He gave you a half sympathetic smile, but his expression was agitated and frantic, sweat pouring from his brow and his usually immaculate clothing disheveled. He strode over to you, pulling you bodily away from the windows, eyes darting between you and the ship outside them.

“Get away from there.” He snapped, hastily. “It isn't safe.”

“I thought we were to out run them.” You said, gripping his hands in yours.

“So, we thought we would, but it seems these people are not to be underestimated.” He replied, squeezing your trembling hands. “Stay away from the windows, and no matter what you hear and what happens, do not come out of this room, until I come for you. Do you understand me?”

“If you--”

“Do you understand!” He barked, hotly.

You drew away from him, surprised at his temper towards you. “I do.” You replied softly, brows creasing.

“Good.” He nodded, letting go of your hands and left you locked in the Captain's quarters, yet again.

It wasn't twenty minutes later another shot rang out, this time from a musket, instead of a cannon. You weren't sure what ship it had been issued from and weren't sure it even mattered, it wasn't a good sign by and by. Your heart was hammering against your corset strings, there was a battle coming, even you knew that much. You dared to peek out the window again and regretted it, as the guns from both ships opened fire. Yelping, you dropped to the floor and scurried over to the Captain's desk, taking cover underneath it.

There were reports from cannons, muskets and pistols, mixed in with shouts of orders and insults, the screams of the injured and dying, the shattering and splintering groans of wood as cannonballs ripped through both ships. It felt like forever since the battle started, soon joined with the resounding clang of metal as the men from the other ship managed to board the Kilmartin and a battle of swords broke out. This was all the worst case scenarios that your father and the Captain had been trying to avoid since first spotting of the ship that morning and all you could think of was the image of your father laying on the deck bleeding to death or already being dead.

You peeked at the door from over top the desk, not willing to come out of your hiding place, once you heard the sudden and unsettling silence that fell between the ships. Had the crew of the Kilmartin won at defending their ship, or had the other ship won? Maybe, neither ship won and they had all killed each other! What would that mean for you, being the only one still alive? You couldn't sail a ship on your own, even if you knew how to. Did that mean you would be left here to starve or feel the mercy of whatever the sea and weather threw at you. Maybe you would get lucky and another ship would pass by, investigate why two ships were motionless in the middle of the ocean and would save you. Or the ship would be pushed in the direction of some spot of civilization, saving you that way.

But, the more your mind came up with these possible scenarios and questions, the more and more outlandish and infinitely impossible they became.

Sir Thomas, your father, and Captain Davis watched as the ship not only dropped two more sails, but also lowered the French flag it had been flying since it had been spotted that morning.

“Please, not a red one.” Thomas muttered under his breath. “Please, not the red.”

“What's the matter with a red flag?” A deckhand, who had been standing behind him asked.

Thomas half turned to him, lifting a brow at him. “New to a ship, I'm supposing.”

“Aye, sir.” He nodded, looking even more nervous.

“Pirates flags are signals to those the pirates are pursuing.” Thomas replied, pushing his jaw forward. “A black pirate flag means that anyone who surrenders will be allowed to live. But, a red pirate flag means, 'no quarter given'.” He explained, but saw the naive look in the green deckhand's eyes.

“In layman's terms, no matter what, everyone on board will die, despite them surrendering peacefully or not.”

The deckhand's face drained of all color, as the true gravity of the situation struck him, before he bolted for the railing and vomited over the side. Thomas shook his head at the boy, turning back towards the gaining ship, just in time to see the pitch black flag unfurl at the top of the main mast, baring a white skull with a red rose in its mouth, letting out the teeniest amount of tension from Thomas's body. He and Davis exchanged looks with each other, the same thought going through their minds at seeing the black flag, instead of the red one.

A moment later, as the ship pulled alongside the Kilmartin, a musket shot went off, whizzing past Thomas and Davis, and struck the green deckhand between the shoulder blades, knocking him over the railing and into the ocean with a splash. Thomas looked across the small gap between the ships, his eye meeting the eye of the man standing beside its wheel, as he lowered the smoking musket from his shoulder, a smug and unapologetic expression on his face as the crew of the ship lined the railing closet to the Kilmartin, their own weapons loaded and ready for whatever was to come next.

“Surrender now!” the musket wielding man shouted across. “No harm will come to you or your crew!”

Captain Davis took a step forward, resting his hand on one of the handles of the ship's wheel, grasping it so tightly his knuckles turned bone white. “I haven't surrendered to a pirate's demand in the twenty years I've been a Captain.” He hissed, under his breath and between clenched teeth.

“I don't bloody intend to now.”

“Captain, we can not afford to fight these men.” Gray hissed back at him.

“This is His Majesty's Ship and it shall stay that way.” Davis snapped, turning his head to glare at his First Mate. “Pirates be damned!” He roared out loud, turning his venom back to the other ship.

“Fire!” He ordered aloud.

There was a momentary lull, before the firing started, blast after blast of cannon fire from blew the ships' decks and the firing of muskets on deck. Men taking cover between shots to reload their guns, then popping back up again to return fire. The splashes of missed shot and dead bodies falling into the raging sea between the ships, splinters of wood rained down on top of them as balls smashed through railings, masts and hauls. A scurry of men on the pirate ship climbed the rigging with ease, grabbing onto loose lines to swing across the no man's land between the ships and boarded the Kilmartin, pulling their swords and cutlasses, cutting down any poor fellow in their way, before they themselves could pull their metal, and swept through the deck.

The Kilmartin was soon overwhelmed after that, forcing Captain Davis to wave a white flag and surrender to the organized and clever pirates. A gangplank was laid between the bobbing ships, but no one crossed it, instead, a tall and bearded man stepped forward, his hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, he wore a dark brown jerkin over a billowing white shirt and tight leather pant; lifting a brow and tilting his head at the assembly of the remaining Kilmartin crew, before settling his piercing blue gaze on Davis.

“You are the Captain of this ship, I presume?” He asked in a deep voice.

“I am.” Davis replied, not hiding his disgust with the man, whose clothing was stained and spotted with the blood of his men. “Who might you be, then?”

“I'm the Captain of the Crimson Jersey.” He replied, jerking his head towards the other ship.

A low murmur went through the Kilmartin men, their fright became even more profound hearing the name of the ship that had attacked them, side eyeing each other and their captures. The Crimson Jersey was one of the most feared Pirate Ships on the high seas, there was only one other ship feared more than the Crimson Jersey and that was Black Beard's Queen Anne's Revenge, and even Black Beard had a measure of respect for the Captain of the Crimson Jersey. While the Captain of the Crimson Jersey, Henry the Red, rarely left people alive from his attacks on their ships, he was well known for attacking well off ships and taking either people or materials as captives, until a set ransom was met, if the ransom wasn't met, then he would kill the captive or keep the materials to sell to the highest bidder at one of the Pirate Ports.

“We have nothing of value on the ship.” Captain Davis said, narrowing his eyes at the other Captain.

“Then, what is the HMS Kilmartin doing out so far from her beloved port?” Henry the Red asked, lifting a suspicious brow at Davis.

“His Majesty the King has ordered us to sail to Port Royal to retrieve the Governor there and bring him back to London, for personal commendation.” Davis told him, lying easily to the Pirate Captain's face.

“It must be some commendation for him to order it this late in the year, the threat of hurricanes are quite common about this time.” Henry replied, sensing Davis's lie, but his eyes moved to Thomas, noticing his shifty behavior and the way he kept trying to subtly look towards the doors of the Captain's quarters.

“Is there something bothering you?” He asked, stepping closer to Thomas. “Like a secret you know.”

“I know nothing of what you speak.” Thomas replied, glaring back at the man.

“Is that so?” He replied, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Then, you'll have no quarrel with me going to have a look.” He said, striding over to the locked doors of the quarters.

“Don't!” Thomas suddenly shouted, his resolve breaking away to his fear of the pirate finding you inside.

Henry turned back to Thomas and laughed at him, more than sure now there was something of great value inside. Taking a step back, he kicked the doors open with a crash of his big boot and entered. At first, he didn't see anything of value inside the room, but he didn't get deterred easily, especially when there was the prospect of treasure involved. He searched the room and as he neared the desk, saw the hem of a dress underneath it and grinned, knowing now what that treasure really was.

“Well, well.” He cooed, stepping around the back of the desk. “Who do we have here?” He laughed, watching you draw yourself further underneath the desk.

Bending down, he reached underneath the desk and grabbed a hold of your arm, yanking you halfway out before you sank your teeth into his meaty forearm. He hissed as you broke his skin and the copper-y taste of his blood touched your tongue, but his vise-like grip didn't relent, he only gripped you tighter and finished dragging you out of your hiding place.

“Oh, feisty and pretty.” He chuckled, surveying you with an unguarded eye. “I like that.” He smiled, then grunted as you stomped on his foot. “Watch yourself, wench.” He hissed, knotting his hand in the back of your hair and painfully jerking your head back, making your vision swim. “Try such a thing again and you'll lose something precious to you.” He warned, then dragged you out of the quarters.

“Let her go!” Thomas roared, taking a step towards you both, only to be stopped with a punch to the gut.

“Father!” You shrieked, jerking against Henry, only to be yanked backwards against him and his free hand wrapped around your throat.

“Father?” Henry mocked, smiling between you and Thomas. “Is this your dear daughter?”

“Let her go.” Thomas wheezed, straightening himself up. “I'll give you anything you wish, just please let her go.” He begged.

“She's all I have left in this world.”

Henry grinned at your father and turned his face into your hair. “I'm sure you would give me anything in the world to have her back.” He whispered against the skin of your temple. “So, tell me, what is it you're willing to give me for her back?” He asked, looking at your father from the corner of his eye.

Thomas floundered, his heart racing as he held your terrified gaze. “I'm on my way to take my station as Governor of Lockemirth Island, in the Caribbean.” He gasped, trying to get a hold of himself. “That is the purpose of the HMS Kilmartin being at sea. Once there, I will be in command of a very large sum of money and goods, I will give you half of it, for her safety and return.”

Henry pursed his lips and clicked his tongue as he considered the offer, then shook his head. “Three fourths of it.” He demanded, twisting a lock of your loose hair around his finger. “No less, Governor.”

Your father floundered for another moment, before his shoulders dropped and he nodded his head. “Fine.”

“Excellent.” Henry grinned, gripping your arm again and pushing your forward, towards the gangplank bouncing up and down between the ships.

“Wait, no!” You shrieked, turning and trying to get back to your father. “Father!”

“It'll be all right, Petal!” He shouted back, blocked by three of Henry's men.

“You can't!” You protested, pushing back against Henry as he hustled you forward.

“I can and I am.” Henry laughed, grinning at you, then tossed you over his shoulder and stepped onto the gangplank.

“Papa!” You screamed, flailing on Henry's shoulder.

Your father shouted your name back, but it was lost in the wind. The pirates disembarked from the Kilmartin and back onto the Crimson Jersey, careful that the Kilmartin crew didn't try to storm them and try to return the attack, in an attempt to rescue you. Once everyone was onboard, the gangplank was drawn back and the ships were separated.

In no time, the HMS Kilmartin was starting to disappear in the dying light of the horizon.

Henry kicked open the door of his quarters, then kicked it closed again, before setting you down in front of his desk. He crossed to one side of the room, plucking a bottle of dark green glass from a table, uncorked it and poured a brown liquid from inside of it into a goblet, tossing it back and poured himself another.

“You monstrous swine!” You growled at him, sneering at his broad back.

He turned towards you, lifting his glass in salute. “Aye!” He laughed and downed his drink again, before pouring yet another drink. “You'll be kept here, in my quarters, with me.” He informed you, sipping this glass.

“I would rather rot on deck.” You barked at him, upper lip twitching with disgust.

“Oh, that can be arranged, if my lady wishes it.” He chuckled, swirling his drink. “But, I must inform you, pet.” He set his drink down and approached you, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger and tipped your head back to look up at him. “It's been several months since my men have set a foot on land, so it's been many a month since they've had the pleasure of a woman's warm body.”

You gulped, your stubbornness starting to fail you.

“While I am far more educated and in command of myself, my men are not.” Henry continued, seeing the blooming realization and fear in your eyes. “So, you can take your chances with them, which you will have none, or you can stay in the relative safety of my quarters.” The register of his deep voice lowered. “Here, my men know better than to enter and anything inside is purely mine, under my protection.” He let go of your chin and strode to his door, yanking it open.

“Your choice.”

You stared at him, gulping and biting into your lip, but didn't move from the spot he had dropped you in, seeing the validity and safety of staying where you were at. A smile crept over his lips and he slammed the door shut again, seeing you had made your choice to stay in the safety only he could give you on board. He moved back to the table, pouring a drink into a second goblet and held it out to you, but you didn't move or say a word. He shrugged his shoulders at you and downed it instead, before taking up his first one around to his desk, settling himself in the high backed chair, to do the needed paperwork that came with piracy.

“Sit down.” He ordered you, motioning to a chair beside you. “Now!” He barked, when you didn't move.

Huffing at him, you pulled the chair sideways and dropped down into it, refusing to look at him or acknowledge his presence. None of which bothered him in the slightest, he was content in the quiet privacy of his mind and work, not paying you all much mind, other than making sure you stayed where he told you to be. After sundown, a soft knock sounded at his door and, at Henry's permission, opened to a crew member, who entered with a silver tray laden with food. He set the tray down on his Captain's desk, nodded his obedient head at him and left. Henry picked up one of the plates on the tray, then pushed the tray towards you.

“If you wish to starve, that's on you.” He commented, when you didn't move. “But, don't whine about it later.” He told you, tearing off a chunk of bread and popped it into his mouth.

Rubbing at his eyes in the dim candle light, Henry stacked his papers together and put them in the bottom drawer of his desk, locking it up with a key that hung around his neck, then stood. He toed out of his boots and crossed the room, hanging his sword and pistol on a hook by the door, removed the brown leather jerkin he was wearing over his shirt and hung it up on the same hook, then locked the door with the same key that was around his neck. He turned and regarded you, still sitting, motionless and sulky, on the chair in front of his desk and rolled his eyes.

“The stubbornness of women.” He huffed to himself, going to a set of heavy curtains to one side of the room.

“The ilk of men.” You growled back at him, angry eyes burning holes into his back.

Henry laughed, jerking back the curtains to reveal a bed behind them, then turned around to grin at you. “Something we agree on, pet.” He chuckled, amused, then sighed and reached behind his head, tugging loose the tight leather string that tied his hair back and shook his head, setting free a mop of dark cinnamon curls, that softened his look considerably.

“Lay down.” He ordered, jerking his curly head to the large, curtained bed.

You snorted at him. “No.”

“That wasn't a question, pet.”

“Don't call me that.”

“I'll call you what I want, now lay down.” He barked at you, eyes hardening.

You turned your own hardened eyes towards him, but didn't budge.

Growling deep in his throat, Henry took several long strides towards you, yanked you out of the chair and back over his shoulder, unphased by you beating on his back to be put down, then dropped you, bodily, onto his bed. With you where he wanted you, Henry turned towards the large bay window behind his desk and made himself comfortable on the cushions there, stuffing one of them behind his head, before dozing off.

You laid there, surprised he hadn't tried to force himself on you or the very least crawl into bed beside you. You half expected him to wait until you fell asleep to try something, but his soft snores soon reached you. Biting your lip, you sat up at the edge of the bed and looked over at him, he was laying half propped up, the quarter moon illuminating one side of his face. He wasn't faking, he was actually asleep. Sighing, you laid back again, your mind spinning, trying to work up the nerve to steal that key around his neck and escape. But, where would you go, once you did have the key and the door open? You had a ship full of his men, on an open ocean, where the ship had already put countless miles between you and the Kilmartin.

Perhaps, you could buy your time, until and in hopes, they made port, to wait for your father's word he had the ransom, then steal away, finding safety somewhere in the port until your father and the Crown could rescue you.

“Pirates.” You huffed, then drew the bed curtains closed, not wanting that bloody pirate to be the last face you saw before you managed to fall asleep.

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midnightmusings-et-moi · 3 years

Text

mirrorball

Remus Lupin x femReader fluff

A/n: this idea came to me while listening to Mirrorball by Taylor Swift- it’s such a 🥰 song which I want to fall in love to so here’s a fic manifesting that lmao (also the gif isn’t mine;credits to the owner)

Warnings: kissing (?), Sirius being suggestive (what’s new) so 13 + , slight insecurity on part of the reader, FLUFFFFF, will make you want to attend the Yule Ball really badly

The stairs leading down to the great hall were carpeted with a luxurious royal blue. The marble railings had pearls and holly twisting around them and the air carried a serene scent of honeysuckle. Chandeliers were suspended above, casting a warm light on the delighted students. Hogwarts really was beautiful during the Yule Ball.

Taking a deep breath, you let the atmosphere calm your nerves. You straightened out your white silk dress that cut off a little above your knees in the front and cascaded down to the ground at the back. The straps closed in on where your neck and shoulders met, forming a gracefully simple halter design. Lilly had convinced you to let her do your hair- she was probably more excited than you about the fact that your crush, Remus Lupin, had asked to take you as his date to the Yule Ball. You were glad you succumbed to her incessant pleads because your hair was tied up in an elegant bun and had tiny pearls scattered across the auburn locks.

Ever since third year potions when you and Remus happened to sit together, you knew you were starting to really fall for the brown haired boy. You doubted he felt the same for you though- he was intelligent, attractive, kind and...perfect. There were so many gorgeous girls in Hogwarts so what made you special to him? Lilly however, would practically yell at you for being so “blind”. “YOU BLIND IDIOT HOW DO YOU NOT SEE HOW HE SMILES SO GOOFISHLY LARGE AT YOU?! REMUS IS HEAD OVER HEELS FOR YOU BUT YOU BOTH ARE BLOODY COWARDS TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!” she would often say.

When he asked you to the ball, you felt hopeful about things...maybe just maybe he felt something too? Or maybe he wanted to take you as a friend? All these questions buzzed through your head as you slowly made yourself down the stairs. Your fingers grazed the holly clad railings as a swarm of hippogriffs raced inside your stomach. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you reached to bottom of the stairs where the two of you had agreed to meet. You stretched your neck and scanned the room, searching for the boy you had crushed on for nearly two years.

There he was, standing with James, Sirius and Peter who were all laughing merrily at a joke. Remus looked breathtakingly handsome. He was the tallest amongst them all, his light brown hair that you had always desired to stroke was pushed back, his dress robes were navy blue and fit him perfectly. His face was etched with the scars of his secret which you admired- you always felt honored by the fact that you were one of the people he trusted enough to tell. Remus’ eyes sparkled as he chuckled at something James had said.

All of a sudden you felt your breathing quicken and your heart ache. You couldn’t do this. ‘Am i stupid?’ You thought to yourself, ‘Why would he ever like me when he could have any girl he wants? I’m just an ordinary girl- he deserves better than me.’ Consternation clouded your mind and right then you had resolved to go back to your dorm and if not you would probably throw up on him in a state of anxiety. Now that would be embarrassing. It isn’t like Remus would miss you anyways right? He could just get another girl at the last moment to be his date- and that lucky girl would all too willingly oblige.

Just as you turned on your heel to go back up, you felt a warm hand wrap around your shoulder. You turned you head in confusion and you eyes were met with sparkling hazel ones- it was Remus. “ Y/n! You look gorgeous-wow” His sweet yet husky voice rang out, his eyes taking you in. Heat rose to your cheeks at his words. ‘He’s just being nice he doesn’t mean it obviously’ you told yourself, not letting yourself get hopeful just to be let down . “Oh uh hi there Remus. Um thanks you too” you greeted, slurring your words out, flustered. His lips curved upwards in a smile and his hand left your shoulder. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking if it was okay to take your hand. You nodded slowly, still in a daze. Remus’ large hand softly enveloped yours as he lead you to his friends.

Sirius looked away from the girl on his arm who’s name was Marlene. She smiled at you cordially and complimented your dress. Sirius’ greeting on the other hand was well- unique. To expect anything else would be out of the question though ; you had known him ever since you were seven because of boring pure blood family banquets you were forced by your parents to attend. The two of you always sought each other’s company instead of those other stuck up, nauseating witches and wizards present . “y/l/n! good day!” he said, mockingly bowing. “Don’t you look ravishing, little one” You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying to seem calm and respond like you normally would, “Yes hello to you too Sirius.” He joked about you him being your mentor in regards to sneaking away and pranking slimy, prejudiced, pure bloods.

“Hi y/n how are you” James greeted you sort of distractedly, looking around you. “Prongs! stop looking for Lilly jeez she said no to you five times i seriously doubt she’s gonna change her mind now” Sirius said exasperatedly. “James was hoping Lilly would be with you” Remus explained, chuckling lightly in with a mocking undertone. James crossed his arms at Remus’ taunting, “Oh don’t pretend like you weren’t worrying your arse about y/n ditching you because she was 2 minutes late” Remus scowled at his friend, red staining his cheeks.

“Awww” you giggled, sort of relieved that he actually wanted you there. So maybe there was nothing to worry about. ‘Just relax’ you told yourself. Remus returned you smile still blushing and gazed at you for a bit until he was broken from his reverie by Sirius voice. “Moony why do you look like you’re mentally undressing y/n- save it for after the ball when you can actually do it” he said winking suggestively, causing the whole group to break out in a chorus of laughter. Remus scowled at Sirius, shoving his shoulder playfully. Your face turned red as you shoved him too “Do you always have to be so immature and crude” you remarked, shaking your head in feigned disappointed. Sirius stuck his tongue out at you.

You felt Remus grasp your hand, “Let’s get out of here before i get embarrassed even more” He murmured. “Let’s go dance” You suggested before racing into the great hall, hand in hand, the both of you chuckling at you trying not to trip in your heels. The great hall was decked out in gorgeous Christmas decor- enchanted snowflakes fell to the ground, pine trees were adorned with bobbles and garlands and a thousand candles floated around, casting light over the formally dressed students and teachers. A merry chatter floated in the air, instantly having you excited for what the night would entail.

As you both made your way to the crowd, the band hoisted on the blue platform started playing Killer Queen by Queen. All the students including Remus and you starting cheering and dancing, full of energy. You grasped both his hands, reveling in the moment, jumping and dancing together, singing the lyrics till your throats were sore. As the chorus rang out, Remus pretended to be holding a mic to his mouth and sang the lyrics to you. You had very rarely seen this playfully goofy side of him and you absolutely adored it. Clenching your stomach which was aching from the waves of laughter that had overcome you, you fell to the ground, causing Remus to join you in the laughter. As his shoulders shook with uncontrollable chuckles, he reached his hand down to you, which you took. In that moment, you had completely forgotten about your anxiety and insecurities. Being here, laughing and dancing with him was enough. Nothing could be more perfect that watching his gorgeous face overcome with joy.

A few moments passed, allowing everyone to calm down and catch their breaths until the soft tune of a piano being played could be heard. All the couples took their places on the floor and started swaying slowly. “Did I tell you how amazing you look tonight?” the brown haired boy asked you as he lightly placed his hands on your waist, guiding you to the notes of the music. Maybe he did mean it? Your heart fluttered at the thought. The mirror ball above rotated slowly, casting glittering reflections on the both of you. “You look quite wonderful yourself” you said as you hesitantly placed both of your hands on top of his shoulders and stepped closer to him. You gazed into his hazel eyes, searching for something you had wanted for a long time. He gazed right back, never breaking contact. Remus’ eyes glittered in the warm light and within them you identified happiness. Yes that was definitely happiness...but there was something more. Remus’ calloused fingers were brought up to push a stray strand of hair out of your face, his hand grazing your skin ever so slightly, again giving rise to the hippogriffs in your stomach but this time they were conjured from joy rather than nerves.

You had not realized how long the two of you were completely entranced by each other until the music came to a halt. The both of you were broken away from your thoughts, but remained holding each other. Then Remus spoke, never leaving your eyes, “Y/n... I don’t know how to say this. I uh I have never done this before” He said, a look of hesitance falling over his face. He took a deep breath before continuing. “You’re so wonderful in every aspect fathomable and I really like you”. Remus scanned your face, worry ghosting his expressions as you remained silent. Your face was blank, but internally you were processing what just happened. “I’m sorry i shouldn’t have-” he started, taking his hands away from your waist, but then you leaned up, taking his face in your hands and crashed your lips onto his.

They tasted more marvelous than you could have imagined- like fire whisky and chocolate. All the day dreams you had gotten lost in during classes had finally become a reality. He kissed right back placing his hands on your lower back to bring you closer to him. Your hands trailed from his jaw to his neck, feeling the scarred, warm skin under your fingers- it was perfect, he was perfect. As you deepened the kiss you felt him smile against your lips before pulling away and placing his forehead on yours, reveling in the moment. “I really like you too” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips.

Cheers erupted from around the two of you and you turned your head to see the three marauders and a group of students clapping and cheering the both of you on. “MOONY YOU DID IT!” you heard James yell out, a proud smile plastered across his face as Sirius cheered again. Your gaze fell on a particular scarlet haired girl who was jumping enthusiastically- Lilly. You smiled wide as the two of you exchanged excited looks. “I told you” she mouthed before blowing a kiss at you.

Remus rubbed your back, pulling you into his side,bringing his mouth to your ear, “Wanna go up to the common room?” You nodded, pecking his cheek once more. You could not believe that he actually liked you- you could explode with happiness. When the two of you had reached the doors leading to the staircase where it was more quiet you stopped to take your heels off that were killing your poor feet. Before you could do so, Remus swiftly swooped you up in his arms, “No need, i can just carry you up” he said flashing you a large grin. You giggled, threading your arms around his neck and with your free hand carded your fingers through his soft brown hair. “I’ve always wanted to do that” you admitted. He laughed in response. “We can sit by the fireplace, I’ll get us some snacks and we can talk. We can also do more of this” he swooped down to plant a lingering, sweet kiss on your lips. “How does that sound?”

“Mmmm that sounds perfect” You replied, resting your head against his chest. This felt like home. And the best part was that this wasn’t a dream- it was all reality.

Hi there! I hope you enjoyed. If you have any suggestions for what I should write next, let me know!

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders imagine #marauder x reader #marauders fluff #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #marauders x reader

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hoe-imaginess · 3 years

Text

baby socks | hawks

Hawks x Reader

summary: Hawks isn't ready to be a dad. He doesn't think he'll ever be—but now, he might need to rethink some things.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: short and montage-y. follows the idea that Hawks realistically isn’t looking to be a family man, but might be converted... for reasons

inspired by an idea from @gabb-yeet ty friend <3

⤰⤰⤰

After two long, stressful weeks, your concerns were no longer contestable. Two weeks during which you waited, and hoped, while your mind did manic rebounds between joy and fear.

A third week came and went without your period, and you knew then that there was no denying the truth growing inside of you.

A pregnancy test from the local drug store gave you final confirmation. The other two you took while riding a wave of denial reverberated the inescapable.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with Hawks’s baby.

And you had no idea what to do.

⤰

His visits were rare, but thoroughly cherished.

You loved to be in his arms, to feel the supple caress of his feathers around you; tickling a warm, blissful exhilaration up your spine.

He loved your hands on him, and always esteemed their softness as you touched his temple or cupped his cheek, as though your gentle embrace extracted the day’s stress right from his skin.

Hawks could make you laugh as easily as anything. Your smiles came easy and organic—there was nothing more in the world he loved than to see your smile.

But now here you were, eyes hot with imminent tears as you showed him the pregnancy test, as he took a step away from you. He simply looked at you with bewilderment, then averted his gaze, somewhat shamefaced by his own shock.

“Wow,” he muttered, eyes and tone lacking any of the passion for this confession that you might have hoped for. “I… thought you were, ya know…” He gestured stiffly to his mouth, denoting your birth control, you guessed. “And we were careful–”

Hawks stopped then, noticing how swiftly the emotion drained from your face. He took a breath to dispel his confusions, and pushed his goggles up into his hairline so he could rub feeling into the bridge of his nose.

“Okay,” he started, like he was trying to wrangle his thoughts back in line. You saw his gloved hands fidget about, eager for orientation. “Um… Well, I wasn’t really… ready for this.”

“Well, neither was I,” you returned, hoping to convey to him that you were the equal of his wariness in this dilemma; you had no ambition to bestow obligations on him.

The proceeding silence took a substantial toll on your already crumbling poise. His gaze took an idling perusal of the ground, at the space between you two, unwilling to meet your eyes.

Then, as if a saving grace to his discomfort, the pager at his belt sounded off.

Your heart stung at the interruption. He sometimes had to make your time together short on account of duty, but surely he could spare a minute more to discuss this—something of this magnitude.

“I have to go,” he murmured, after reading the message on his pager. He was still reluctant to meet your eyes, but found a heartbreaking sadness in them when he did. He swallowed hard. “I’m… sorry.”

“Hawks,” you started, searching feverishly for the words that might keep him there with you. “I’m—We need to…”

“I know.” There was a flash of somber determination in his eyes, something that aspired to reassurance, but failed. “I’ll be back.”

His arm moved, almost as if to reach out and touch you. But he seemed to think better of doing so, and instead he moved to your window, and flew from it as he had a hundred times before.

Except this time, you watched him go not with an enthusiasm to see him again, but a despairing anxiety.

⤰

His return was a no less cumbersome affair.

Hawks sat on your couch, looked around the room with thorny cautiousness, as if he were in an unfamiliar environment, as if he no longer found peace in your presence like he once had.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, still partial to keeping his gaze lowered.

You’d sat down next to him on the couch, with a condemning distance between the two of you that made your chest tight with despair. You looked down at your feet, at the soft carpet beneath your toes, and curled them restlessly into the fluff.

“What do you mean?” you answered, even as you feared clarification.

“I mean… have you decided?”

Your head came up to look at him, a mounting trepidation quickening your pulse.

“Decided?” you repeated.

Realizing your apprehension, he perked up, and a flash of apology softened his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His hands hovered to assuage you, and that tender, sweet look in his eyes that you’d so missed made itself known. “Listen, I just mean… you said you weren’t ready for this either, so I just thought you’d be thinking... I don’t know.”

“Do you…”

You trailed off. Was he really after a verdict? Was he asking not how you two might endure parenthood together, but rather, whether you two needed to at all?

Your mouth felt dry; you wet your lips anxiously. “I mean, are you asking me if I want to…?”

“It’s your choice,” he amended quickly, but uncertainty still cast its shadow over his face, gambling with his otherwise assuring words. “Whatever you decide I’ll… I’ll do what I need to do.”

There was no enthusiasm behind his promise, only a reluctant acceptance. You’d hoped for so much more.

⤰

Hawks couldn’t join you at your prenatal appointments.

He tried, once, when not a minute after showing up on the same block as the hospital, he was spotted and swarmed by fans. Thinking better of making a move that might lead you to suffer some unwanted media attention, he pulled back.

Later, after you’d trudged through the appointment alone, he called you to apologize.

You told him it was fine, and that you understood his need for discretion during all of this. After all, any whiff of information that the press claimed from this situation might prove detrimental to Hawks’s career. He was young, and a top hero; even if the two of you weren’t married, you knew part of his appeal was his bachelor status. Even if you’d both decided on this together, you were still worlds apart.

And from then on, there was an unspoken agreement that you would have to traverse most of your pregnancy alone.

⤰

When Hawks wasn’t thinking about hero work, he was thinking about you.

He was thinking about you, and his relationship with you—how it had been so ideal and complete. It was an escape from the labors of his day that often times felt more injurious than anything. Seeing you remedied that. Your presence was alleviating; your affections curative.

But now when he thought of the relationship, the happiness was sabotaged by a cloud of uncertainty—uncertainty for the unknown. From the very onset of his hero career, he’d planned to strictly dedicate himself to the betterment of society, no matter his personal sacrifices.

But how faithfully could he keep to that philosophy when it would no longer be his sacrifice alone, but also yours?

Hawks had thousands of admirers. Among them were beauties that would have undoubtedly been the apple of any other man’s eye: stunners who flashed him pretty smiles behind pretty lashes, flattering him with their worship and exaltation—but they were tributes he couldn’t afford. He couldn’t devote himself to one person when the rest of the country demanded preservation.

But you were the exception.

You two had met under such fleeting circumstances that he could have never guessed the journey on which the short encounter would take him. But then you two kept running into each other, over and over, until he’d found the opportunity to indulge the humor of it.

Is this just a coincidence? he’d joked with you. Or maybe you’re plotting something? Understandably, I’m a little suspicious.

You’d laughed so sweetly in response: a laugh that made his face warm and his wings twitch.

He had little control over what happened next. The warmth had sprouted. It had all gone so well. Doubts and fears about indulging a relationship with you slowly dwindled to a dormant worry. You were always so understanding and accommodating; you never harped on his business, and never guilted him for prioritizing hero work when it was necessary.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

But now, he had no idea what to think.

His feelings hadn’t changed for you, not at all. But this was an impossible situation, with an impossible answer. He was going to be a father. That was an unavoidable truth now, one he had yet to completely wrap his head around.

He wished it were easy. He wished he could bask in the anticipation of fatherhood, that he could be there to encourage your enthusiasms and grant you his part in this endeavor. You deserved that. You deserved support and happiness throughout this. But he didn’t know if he could deliver.

On patrol, Hawks saw mothers carrying their young infants in the street—something he’d given little thought or contemplation before. Now his soaring wings would come to a slow as he tried to imagine that it was you down there holding a baby in your arms, his baby; a baby with his hair and eyes—or maybe yours, or maybe a mix of both…

He’d shake his head and turn away from the spectacle, knowing his thoughts would spiral, and that they would serve only to distract him.

⤰

Hawks stopped visiting as often as he had been. It was a palpable evasion, and it cut you worse as the days went by.

He kept up with your texts, mostly. But the longer they went unanswered, the worse your anxieties grew. Whereas before an unanswered message would scarcely disturb you—he had a demanding job, after all—your reservations had all but crashed now. It left you in a state of unending worry; gut-wrenching conclusions toppling over one another until you’d exhausted yourself with grief.

You would spend hours curled up on the couch, waiting for his response, eager to be quelled of your dread. Didn’t he realize the longer he kept away from you, the worse you were for it?… The more guilt you felt for deciding you wanted to keep this baby?

Your hand would curl over your stomach, and you would wonder how something meant to bring so much joy had so far served only to bring you sorrow.

⤰

During a break in his late-night patrol, Hawks called you.

Bleary-eyed, you woke to the phone’s tuneful ringing, and reached for it clumsily on the nightstand.

“Hello?” you croaked once you’d answered the call.

As if he’d been idle, and not expecting you to answer, he cleared his throat. “Uh, hey.”

You waited, brain too fogged by sleep to think of your own mediation to the silence. It was then he realized that he would need to take the lead, lest he make this late-night disturbance in vain.

“Hey,” he started again, with hesitation. “I just… wanted to talk.”

“It’s late, Hawks,” you murmured, blinking away haze as you peered at your alarm clock. It was nearly past three.

“I know. Sorry. Listen, I…” The mere notion of elaborating on the toilsome thoughts in his head made his chest tight. The onslaught of guilt and confusion struck instantly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the self-condemnation constricting his throat. “I just…” Now his confidence digressed, his sentiments running faster than what words could articulate.

“I just didn’t know what to do,” he admitted finally, certain but woeful in his repentance. “I… guess I still don’t.”

You sat up in bed, let the blood flow evenly through your body to aid your thinking. “I’m confused too, Hawks, but I…” The thought of the turmoil you’d suffered all alone these last few weeks brought pitiful tears to your eyes, and a stutter to your breath. “I need your help.”

Touched by the sorrow in your tone, he raised his head to the night sky and breathed in his grief, then breathed it out.

“I know,” he said. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

For the next half-hour, you stayed on the phone with him, talking through mutual worry and braving the shame of confessing the anguish you felt because of his behavior.

He promised that he would take care of you. Both of you, he said.

And you went to bed that night with a little smile on your face, hoping the soothing optimism you felt would last.

⤰

Baby socks.

It was baby socks that did it.

With his wings withered down from a particularly exhausting battle, thereby shedding the token of his celebrity, Hawks indulged himself by doing something he rarely did: take a trip to the supermarket.

Still, it wasn’t something he did often. Even disguised in casual attire, sick mask and a hat complimenting the facade, there still remained a risk that he may be noticed. But the risk seemed worth it that day; the distraction that the mundane offered from his knotty thoughts was what he needed.

Still, wherever he went, so too did his anxieties, following him and reminding him of their need for resolve. In fact, maybe it was an unconscious decision that he ended up right here: staring down the baby supplies aisle, hesitation in his every step, almost as if the ground was hot coal. Unconscious, because part of him knew very well that despite the promises he’d made you, he still needed to come to his own terms with his convictions.

So it was part-obligation, and part-unbidden curiosity that pulled him down the aisle, his golden eyes giving a nervous perusal of the products on display.

He saw the rows of diapers, and tried to imagine using them: cleaning up an infant’s mess, suffering the smell. Hawks winced with a wrinkled nose.

He’d rather endure one of those interviews, for that one magazine, of who the interviewers always asked about his political preferences, almost like they wanted him to say something controversial. He hated those more than anything, so to say it was preferable to changing diapers wasn’t a very good outlook on his imminent child-rearing.

He was on a path to conjuring up more unpleasant visions of fatherhood, when he came to the clothes section.

It was a parade of bright pastels and fuzzy cotton; animal-print designs and cheesy phrases glaring at him from every shelf. It was banal to the point of nausea.

But then, the baby socks.

He couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw them: ornamented with fluff and lace, so small and delicate that it was almost impossible to believe a human foot belonged in there. But it did; a baby’s petite, soft foot—his baby’s foot, would fit snuggly.

Hawks envisioned it, then envisioned it some more, the array of merchandise fueling his imagination.

Then there were the pacifiers. The beanies. The onesies—

He had a stupid smile on his face as he loaded his cart with whatever caught his eye.

⤰

Your water broke while Hawks was on patrol.

He’d given you the number to his personal hero pager, with a promise that he’d leave work to his sidekicks if he was able and rush to you immediately.

Unfortunately, the odds were stacked against him; an aspiring group of villains, all of whom used wide-range quirks that made their capture difficult, took the better half of an hour to subdue.

By the time Hawks had done his work and left clean-up to the authorities, you were already in labor. And by the time he’d checked his pager for your emergency message—something he’d been doing almost hourly, now that your due date was close—and rushed to the hospital, all your work was done.

When he finally arrived, he was met by his newborn’s red cheeks and sweet cries.

“A boy,” you breathed out with a tired smile, sagging into the hospital bed.

Sweat streamed from your temple; dotted your brows and nose. If he hadn’t been so absorbed in the sight of the little human in your arms, he would have moved in to worry over your fatigue. But there he remained transfixed, golden eyes going to pinpricks as he gave the baby a hard inspection; his shock morphed into excitement, and from excitement: joy.

⤰

There was no paternity leave for heroes like Hawks. Crime in the streets demanded his attention almost as much as his crying baby.

But it was a rare night that he could be home with you, taking his parenting duties in stride, and finding them far less strenuous than he would have ever imagined.

In fact, he was starting to enjoy them. But the most treasured time was after all work was done, when you, him, and his son lay on the bed together, his little body between you two. It was restful, and strangely, to Hawks, the most at peace he’d ever been.

Whatever chores he’d done in his time with you fell far from the work you did every day taking care of the baby, and the moment you hit the sheets, an easing fatigue started to take you. Hawks might have indulged rest, if he wasn’t so engrossed in the spectacle his infant son was making.

Hawks watched him with adoring fascination, his honed eyes taking in every little wiggle, every soft twitch, every gentle stretch.

“Look, look,” Hawks entreated, reaching over to nudge you from a much needed sleep. “He’s kicking his little legs.”

You groaned quietly, kept your eyes shut. “He’s been kicking my insides for months now,” you responded groggily, but with the smallest of smiles. “Nothing new.”

Removed from all nuances that didn’t involve his son, Hawks was unfazed by your comment, and his enthusiasm continued undeterred. He lay there, the baby between the two of you, and watched his son test his little muscles for the first time.

The smile never left Hawks’s face.

⤰⤰⤰

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x you

895 notes · View notes

clouds-rambles · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Can I request for a platonic hc or one-shot for bennette and razor where the reader encountered a (big) slime and the bois helped them and the reader felt thankful for them and started to look out for them basically giving out older sibling vibes to the bois!!! For example, giving them supplies before the bois to an adventure together, patching their wounds if they are injured, giving them charms for protection or luck, etc. In short, just wholesome moments!!!

Have a nice day!!!

Cute, cute, cute, cute. Fuckin soft for sibling content. As an older sibling seeing my younger ones thrive is just the life I love them very much :)

So sorry turning this into headcanons because I’ve too many thoughts

HI 300 FOLLOWERS HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!

Pairings; (Platonic) Bennett, Razor x reader

Warning(s);

Keep reading under the cut!

You curse under your breath. Maybe coming out to befriend the slimes was a bad idea. I mean you had heard that people had started slime farms and you really just wanted to see if it was possible to domesticate them.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gone for the biggest most feral slimes, because they had immediately say you as a threat and started attacking you and all you could do is send waves of the element of your vision at them because you left your weapon. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so sure this would have worked.

The real kicker of this whole ordeal? The slimes are the same element as your vision. So really all that the waves of elemental energy you sent at them did was push them back for a moment before they pushes back at you again. Homophobic.

Besides the point.

Out of the corner of your eye as you so desperately try to keep the slimes from smothering you you notice two guys who are running towards you.

The one on the right, which you note has a pyro vision, trips and falls as he makes his way towards you. The one on the left pays little to no mind to his fallen friend and he uses his electro vision to take down the slimes in a swift hit/

“Hmm,, okay?” the electro holder asks, you wipe the slime condensate off your body as he gives you a hand up. You nod at him

“Yeah thanks, is your friend okay?” you ask looking to the fallen pyro holder. Said man raises his hand for a moment to indicate he’s okay

“Happens,, often” the other tells you “Razor” he then tells you after a pause pointing to himself “Bennett” he adds pointing to the other who’s starting to get up

“Oh I’m [name]” you introduce and wave a little awkwardly.

And that’s where it started. You had basically adopted the two as your younger brothers, your door is always open to them. So much so that you gave Razor a key (you would have given Bennett one but he insisted that his horrific bad luck would cause him to lose it)

The two come over often, be it for little patches for injuries or for dinner. Razor and Bennett are always a whirlwind, and honestly they both make your day. Razor will take you along with him and Bennett for little adventures around Wolvendom, and even introduces you into his pack. You got a positive welcome for sure but the idea of being suddenly mauled by wolves made you tense for most of the exchange.

Bennett introduces you to his Dads who are more than happy to take you under their wings and help you out as much as they can. They’re cute seasoned adventurers and it makes you so happy to mingle with them.

Bingo night is intense.

Razor doesn’t often show affection often, partly to do with an aversion but mainly to do with not really understanding how it works. So instead of hugging Razor will just cup your face, he’ll happily take hugs from you though. He’s just not sure how to initiate them. When Razor is held between your arms he often finds his worrys about his place in his pack and Mondstat flutter away. He’s definitely cried in your arms once or twice. But you won’t mention it unless he wants to. Razor is grateful for that.

Bennett loves affection, he’ll often just run up to you and hug you in the middle of the street. He likes the comfort of your embrace. It makes him forget his unluckiness and lets him just have the moment of peace. You don’t want Bennett to feel unlucky around you so most of the time you oblige to his requests which are never more dangerous than going to bother Razor, his friend Fishl or going to do some shopping

It doesn’t matter how steely your personality is the second Razor and Bennett are in the room you soften up for your boys. They’re just sweet lil guys that you’d positively do anything for

The first time Razor refers to you as his sibling almost makes you cry, you’re not sure why. You had unofficially adopted the boys and now here Razor is calling you his sibling, just like you have done for months.

The first time Bennett calls you his sibling is very similar. Your eyes tear up for a moment at the thought of your boys seeing you how you see them

Cute

Sometimes the three of you will go out for a few days exploring the wilds and the nights are often spent huddled about the campfire while you tell them tales of old and random things you’ve done until they nod off

Even though the boys are independent for the most part and have actual families to go home to they often refer to you and your home as home and boy does it make you weep

Who would have thought being saved by two random guys would have lead to such a lovely sibling relationship?

Me I did

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #platonic #razor x reader #bennett x reader #genshin razor #geshin bennett #razor #bennett

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pandoraimperatrix · 3 years

Text

caught between goodbye and I love you

DickKory | Pining | Eventual smut | Two shots | Post season 3 AU

Chapter 1: My heart is a sad affair

Chapter 2: Too many moonlight kisses seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

Kory’s hands slid from Dick’s head, massaging his temples and cheekbones, spreading little butterfly pecks around his face to let him breath between her hungry kisses. Then, her hands kept going down, kneading his broad shoulders, easing away any tension he might still have, he shivered as her long nails scratched his chest downwards until her fingers reached his trousers, popping the button of his fly.

“Kory, wait,” he managed to say, using all his willpower to hold her hand from going further.

“Hmm,” she made, her mouth was now sucking his earlobe, Jesus fucking Christ, that woman.

“Wha-“ She somehow managed to step further into his personal space, her thigh rubbed against his crotch and Dick had to suck a breath in. “What do you mean?” he asked again voice trembling, not sure of how he was able to keep coherent.

His heart sunk when she sighed and pulled her hand from his, he was an idiot, she clearly didn’t come to chat and he was ruining everything. But to his surprise, she didn’t escape from their embrace, just pulled her face from the curve of his neck, her now freed hand grabbing his chin to make him look at her. God, she was so gorgeous, and the demanding way she handled his body made his skin sizzle.

“I meant,” she started, her thumb on his lower lip, “that, what I said the other time, I… I lied. I don’t see you as a friend. Well,” she smiled, that gorgeous smile of her, equal parts angelical and full of promises of exciting dirty things. “I do. But not just a friend-”

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As much as her rambling added so much to her charm, since it was so rare to see Kory uncertain of her words, he had been holding all those feelings, for so long torturing himself with the reality in which she told him that she didn’t feel like that for him back, and now, out of the nowhere... He just couldn't let it all go and enjoy. That was not him. It had to be a catch, something wrong. And if he was right about that, maybe he was right about the other stuff too. About how he had been carrying his fear of losing her at any second.

So, he had to ask again. Any bitter truth is better than a sweet lie.

“Why?”

“Why?” she chuckled and then kissed his jaw lovingly, ready to go back to where they were.

“Kor… Why did you lie?” He coached, his voice low, he was barely managing to keep it together, but he needed to know.

“Oh…” her eyes lowered, and she trembled, that helped him to emerge his attention from the pool of desire he was drowning.

“Kory, there’s something happening, isn’t it?” She closed her eyes, a guilty expression taking hold of her beautiful face, Dick held her firmer, he was starting to panic. That was his confirmation; her presence in his life had always been so good to be true. He always knew that. All this time he had been blaming his paranoia on the chip on his shoulder and his broken heart, but he had been correct. He this was a goodbye.

“Kory, please,” he kissed her cheek, and pulled her for a full hug, desperate for her to prove him wrong once more. To laugh at his fatalistic ways and tell him to relax. “Talk to me.”

“I’m going back to my planet,” she said the phrase he feared the most, each word drilled into his heart, he didn’t answer anything, just held her firmer, as if he could keep her forever like that “I can’t stay here.”

He sucked air in, and pulled apart just enough to see her beautiful face. Shiny tears stained her cheeks.

“But you and you sister agreed-“

Komand’r had left a month ago taking with her official proof that Kory was giving up her royal right to her sister and announcing that Earth was her new home.

“She sent me word from Tamaran. They still won’t accept her. I have to go, wear the crown, do my duty.”

“But-“

She was caressing his face again, the pads of her fingers softly following the lines on the surface of his skin, as if she was trying to learn every little part of him by heart…

“I’ve known for a while that would happen,” her voice broke, she pressed her face on his chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt with both hands. “That’s why I lied to you” still horrified and confused, he caressed her hair, breathing in her scent, trying to make sure it was memorized, that no matter where she’d go, she’d still remain somehow within him.

“I didn’t want to make this harder than it has to be….” She continued, wiping her tears away. “But I decided that my last selfish act would be you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He couldn’t resist the way she said that last phrase and smashed his lips against hers again, pulling her impossibly close. Kory made a needy surprised noise that alone was enough to make him hard again, and when he pressed her against his dresser he made sure she’d know.

She pushed his chest away, and turned around, Dick understood the message, pulling her hair to the side and spreading open mouth kisses down her neck. She caught his eyes through the mirror, and although her smile reflected pure bliss, the new tears persisted to fall.

That wouldn’t do. He didn’t want their last night to be so full of sorrow.

“You have no idea,” but she continued, as his hands slid down her back, purposely ignoring the zipper of her dress. “When you went back together with Barbara” he answered the bitterness in her voice with a bite, she grabbed of his hands and pressed it against her breast. “I tried to convince me that it was alright,” his free hand reached her hips, marvelling at their perfect roundness, he strummed the silky fabric of her dress, pulling the seam up until his hand lied flat of the skin of her bare thigh.

“I thought…” it was becoming hard for her to keep talking and although he felt a wave of pride for rendering her speechless, his inquisitive mind still wanted to understand, and he wanted her to find relief by dumping all the weight she had been carrying alone all this time “that it was how things s-should be. Oh Dick-“ his fingers found the lacy edge of her underwear and Kory chocked. When he pulled his hand back to her inner thigh she let out a suffering sigh and continued with her explanation. “Even if I hurt. I thought… I thought things would be alright if you were happy.”

He had no idea that she was hurting that much too. He held her closer, resting his forehead against her neck.

“I thought if there was someone else to look after you,” instead of firm and needy, the grip on his hand on her breast became tender, “and help you with our kids... But then Rachel and Gar begged me to stay and you helped me to delude myself that there was a possibility…”

“Me?” One thing was she saying that she had feelings for him, another was she offering sex as a parting gift, and another completely different was she saying that what made her believe she could stay was him. Because that gave him hope, and hope is a very dangerous thing.

She looked shy for a woman who was just seconds before rubbing against his hard-on when she turned in his embrace again.

“You just had broken up with Barbara, and I couldn’t deny you anything because I was…” she swallowed, his heart was beating so hard he could almost hear it. Kory said a string of fast tamaranean words.

“Kory?”

“I can’t say it. Please don’t make me. This is bad enough, if I say it… I am… I… I fooled myself. This, us, it was too good to be true. Our little family, never in my life, I thought I’d ever get something like this. I never thought I even wanted it. But, after everything, when we came home, I knew you still had feelings for me… And X’hal…” she trailed off and looked away for a moment, but then raised her chin defiantly, a fierce expression in her face, green eyes shining with something akin to fury. “I wanted to accept them. I wanted to say fuck my duty, our family is better than that. I’d much better to be obligated to the you and Rach and Gar. Fuck the all our differences, I’d take the little I had with you over eternity with people that would kill children and their own daughter for power. I love my family and Tamaran. But that’s not enough anymore. I was afraid this would happen, but I didn’t want to believe it would be this soon, and now… Now…”

“Now what?”

She held his face between her hands again.

“Now this is all I can offer you. This night.”

“We’ll find a way,” he begged, picking one of her hands and kissing her palm.

Dick had never seen her smile turn up so sad.

“Please don’t this. I don’t want to pretend. I’m so tired of lying to you and I’ll have to pretend to the rest of my life. This might be the last night I will ever have to be myself, to be with you. I need this to be real.”

What else could he do? She wanted real. He’d give her real.

Dick pulled her up as his lips claimed hers again, her powerful legs crossed around his hips. He held her up like that for a while, just enjoying the feel of her body pressed flush against his. His hands giving her support by moulding her round butt with his palms. Kory took one of the hands off his hair, bending her arm backwards so she could rub him through his trousers. Dick let out a moan and she used the opportunity to make a wet path of kisses across his cheekbones, until she reached his ear. She whispered something in her native language and licked his earlobe.

Dick he walked backwards until his chins hit the bed and he fell sitting with Kory on his lap. She stopped her ministrations to pull her hair from her face and look down at him.

“Hey,” she said, her eyelashes were still wet, but her tears had stopped falling, she looked so… No wonder she belonged to the heavens, no being on planet Earth could be so perfect.

“Hello,” he answered.

Kory leaned her forehead against his, and Dick’s hands slid upwards through her back, searching for the metallic pull tab of the zipper, but his hands kept getting trapped by her voluminous curly hair.

“Kory, some help, please?”

She let out that hearty laugh of hers, deeply amused by his lack of skill, and pulled her hair up, the smile never leaving her lips.

“You are so gorgeous,” he vowed against her lips as he reached for the fastening of her dress again, this time having success in his endeavour.

“You are very pretty yourself, Mr Grayson,” she teased between kisses, with the back of her dress open, he started, kissing her shoulders as he pulled the straps of her dress down.

“I should have known that day, when I first saw you in that arcade, that you couldn’t be from this world.”

She laughed again and recoiled when he hit a ticklish path on her neck.

“You were so mad at me,” she giggled.

He forced his lips away from her skin so he could look at her.

“You stole my car!”

Kory pulled his locks away from his eyes with the tip of her fingers.

“I was very rude to you,” her fingers lowered from this forehead to the valley of his eyebrows to the tip of his nose.

“I fell in love right there,” he said, very serious, maybe just realising it.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I mean it.”

And she believed him. Kory kissed him again, rocking in his lap. Then she pushed him, making Dick fall on the bed, Kory looming over his body like a big cat.

“Oh, all the things I want to do to with you Dick Grayson…” she said in a husky tone.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Please what?”

“Whatever you want.”

She giggled and leaned towards his face, Dick moved to meet her in the middle, but in the last moment, Kory kissed his throat instead, making him let out an disappointed whine. She smiled against his skin, going downwards, making him sigh. Dick caressed her soft hair, sliding his hands through the newfound naked skin of her back, smirking when he felt her shiver. As nice as it was to go so slow, he just couldn’t turn off the part of his brain that knew the only reason why they were trying to stretch that night as long as possible, was because they wouldn’t have another.

He found his hands under her dress again, and pulled the shimmering fabric all the way up this time. Kory stopped her work on the buttons of his shirt to raise her hands up to help him. The golden tones of her dark skin glowed under the penumbra of his room, like she was her own source of light, and maybe she was. There was so much he didn’t know about her. So much that he’d never be able to find out now.

Dick pressed his hand against her belly, and looked up to her through his lashes, she was smiling again, observing his reaction. When he noticed that, he gave her a puzzled look and Kory shook her head.

“Come up here.”

He obeyed, catching her lips again, Kory rocked against him, and this time Dick rocked back against her, seeking that so desired friction. His hand slid between then, finding her core.

Oh Lord, he broke the kiss, breathing hard.

“Fuck, Kory, you have a pool here.”

“Yeah?” She said, trying to rub against his hand. “What you’re gonna do about it?”

Dick pressed his fingers against the fabric of her underwear, god she felt so hot, his fingers slid easily over the drenched lace, testing up and down, side to side and round motions to see what she liked best. He decided he found the one when Kory moaned loudly, and her hips started moving, assisting his own movements, her arms wrapped around his neck for dear life. When he felt she was getting, close, he, pulled the fabric aside and inserted two fingers, his thumb continuing to rub her clit and Kory screamed, her nails breaking the skin of his neck. Her other hand grabbing her own breast as Dick continued his onslaught, refusing to kiss her only so he would lose each blissful expression his ministrations created on her face.

He chuckled when her orgasm hit and she seemed to lose control of her movements to a fit of spasms. Dick kissed her temple as she calmed herself.

“Kor?”

“I’m fine.”

“Better than fine I hope.”

She let out a hoarse laugh.

“I can be better.”

“I hope for that too, we’ve barely started.”

She took a deep breath and raised her head from the curve of his neck.

“My turn!” She looked down at him. “How come you are still fully dressed?”

“I have a greedy princess for lover, you see.”

She rolled her eyes and made a quick work of his shirt that was already half-opened.

“Hmmm we have a problem.”

“What?”

“I can’t take off your pants and stay on your lap at the same time.”

“You’ll have to climb off first,” he suggested in a breathy voice.

She just gave him a look as if he said some absurd nonsense.

And then Kory’s eyebrows raised, her expression clearing as she quite clearly had an idea, Dick licked his lips and waited as one of her hands snaked down and ripped the fabric of her own thong. He was breathing incredibly heavy already for someone who did cardio sessions twice a day when her other hand grabbed his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbing against her palm. Looking straight into his eyes, Kory reached into his trousers and pulled his penis off its enclosure. She gave him a couple feeling pumps and Dick closed his eyes hard.

“Look at me,” she demanded.

Dick drew a shaky breath before blinking his eyes open, obeying. She smiled so, so sweetly before pushing her wet folds against his cock, stimulating both of them without penetration.

“Don’t!” she warned in a tight voice when threatened closing his eyes again.

Dick grabbed the sheets of his bed trying to hold himself together for her while Kory mercilessly rubbed her juicy sex against him, until was too much and he pushed her aggressively against the bed making Kory cry out in surprise and frustration. He didn’t let her down, thought, kneeling on the carpet and worshiping her dark smooth thighs. God, he haven’t even noticed before, but she was wearing those translucent knee high nylons. He had spent so much freaking time fantasising about that particular garment when she first appeared wearing them. How he had survived so long without having a hornyness-induced stroke living with Kory was beyond him.

He licked clean the juices dripping from her vulva first, holding his laughter as she let out a string of words he new were curses until he finally decided to take her off her misery giving the attention she so craved to her pussy. Dick fucked her with his tongue, using his thumb to keep flicking her clit at the same time.

He rose his head alarmed when she reached her climax again and he heard a loud crash. His lamp, once on his nightstand, was on the floor across the room, on fire.

Kory started to move to fix it, guilt mixed with tendrils of the pleasure of the mind numbing orgasm she had, but Dick just raised a hand to her. In no time he had put out the fire with a towel from his en suite.

Then he sat beside of her on the bed, and they exchanged a look before laughing together.

“That was pretty dangerous,” he stated after the worst of laughing subdued.

“Shut up and take off your pants already, Grayson.”

He did, well aware of her eyes on him as he worked. His feet were already bare he was about to take his night shower and get ready to sleep when she appeared at his door. Dick noticed she moving towards her own boots, but he stopped her.

“Let me.”

“Really? Last time you couldn’t take them off.”

“Nah, I just wanted to see you come while they were still on.”

“Kinky.”

He grinned and pulled the zipper of the first boot down, unwrapping her leg as if it was a rare fragile antique instead of the powerful murder weapon it could be. Not that he would mind dying between her legs. He actually couldn’t think of a better death.

Dick climbed back on the bed, lying beside Kory, she lazily turned her body towards his.

“Ready to go again?” he asked, one hand under his chin and the other playing with her beautiful curls. When they met they were to bright, he kind of missed it, lately it had been getting redder, he wanted to know what colour they would turn next, but he never would.

“What is it?” she asked, noticing the shadow on his face?

He could tell her and make her sad, he could lie, but she’d know and she asked him to be true. So, he dove for another kiss, covering her body with his and pulling her legs apart to fit better between them.

Her hands travelled across his back as they kissed, her still encased in the high socks feet slid from his calf to his butt pressing against it. When he was getting used of the feeling of her all putty and languid under him, Kory seemed to get over her afterglow stupor and pushed him.

“Up!”

He looked down.

“Has been for a while now.”

She snorted. She loved how free he felt to be silly when there was only the two of them. Kory wished he was more carefree like that regularly, but also felt a bubble of pride for how comfortable she made him feel.

“Dork. Come on, you’re not going to regret it.”

She let him give her another lazy kiss before he pulled off her, standing up, waiting with his hands on his waist. Kory pushed her body up with her forearms and sat down. She gave him an enigmatic smile before falling forward in fours. He was already moaning before her lips even touched him. Kory used one of her hands to hold her upper body horizontally and with the other she grabbed Dick’s hips and pulled him towards her in a powerful motion. She kissed his navel and licked downwards. He held his breath when the nails of the hand holding his hips scratched their way toward his balls, cradling them before she grabbed the base of his impossibly hard penis and sucked the tip.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moaned as she started swirling her tongue down, spreading kisses through the entire length. “Kory, oh my god-“ he chocked as her hand slid down, stimulating his balls again as she sucked restlessly, until the tip of her fingers rimmed him and pleasure was blinding, his ears were actually buzzing.

“Kor, Kor Kor, stop,” he begged unable to physically pull away. “Jesus, please, stop or I-“

Luckily, she did, he took a few breaths before opening his eyes again, afraid that even looking at her would make him come too soon. He tried to think about Krypto’s disgusting food to calm himself until he was allowed to contemplate actual sex goddess Koriand’r again. Dick could hear her giggling, that siren. But he’d show her.

When he decided it was safe enough, Dick opened his eyes to find Kory kneeing on the edge of the bed, looking at him with so much love – because as much as he understood her unwillingness to say it, he knew, oh he knew – his eyes stung.

“Come here,” he said opening his arms, and she hugged his neck, kissing him as Dick finally unfastened her bra. Hey threw the garment over his shoulder after freeing her, and leaned down to give attention to her breast. Just like everything about her, they were perfect, and he was more than happy to suck one of her black nipples as she caressed his hair lovingly. He gave equal treatment to the other one, but as he could feel her becoming restless, Dick pulled Kory up again. She snaked her hand between them, positioning his cock, and with one swift motion, let her weight descend over him. Dick let her ride him like that, standing up. She cried out, her hips moving against his frenetically, her arms and legs locked against his waist and neck for dear life, he tried to give her support by holding her butt cheeks, but she didn’t seem to need it, it was almost if she was flying.

She came again, almost bringing him with her, but thankfully without setting anything on fire. Dick took advantage of her high to pull her up, rising her to his shoulder and licking her again, overstimulating her until Kory lost all remaining control.

Dick lied her on the bed again, kissing her neck softly as she returned, his hands sliding up and down her thigs. Kory sighed.

“I don’t think I can come again,” she said, one of her thumbs was caressing the new bullet wound scar on his shoulder, the one Babs gave him. Kory was so mad. He wanted to kiss her so hard that day. If only Gar wasn’t there too…

“I’ll try my best,” he picked the hand on his scar and kissed it.

“Aren’t you so hardworking?”

He chuckled and entered her again, this time going slowly. The sun was rising through the horizon, reminding them that even that night had to end too. She held his face, smiling, but the tears were falling again. He kissed her cheeks, cleaning them with his love. And then, when the morning sun hit her hair, creating an purple aura around her hair, he came.

She was still under him when he opened his eyes again, she didn’t seem no more willing to let him go than he felt of leaving her body.

“I’m fighting for you,” he said, very serious.

Kory sighed, and turned her face away.

“You can’t.”

“Kory-“

“Please, don’t talk, I want to enjoy this just a little longer.”

Dick climbed off her, but pulled Kory’s body for a hug, she lied her head over his heart, fitting, for even universes apart, she was its rightful owner and always would be.

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

Where is my clown make up? This thing ended being 6k anyway lmao. But I wanted to take part in the trend of extra-long DickKory sex scenes. It’s a very nice trend, you see.

Well, I hope you all liked it. I plan to make a sequel, but Fortuna knows when it will come out. I do have a lot of WIPs that need attention.

And now I’ll watch today’s episode, I told myself I wasn’t allowed to watch it until this was over.

Please comment!!!! And reblog!!!

#dickkory #dickkori #starfire #nightwing #robstar #koriand'r #dick grayson #kory anders #kori anders #teen titans #titans #hbo titans #dcu titans #titans live action #my fic #caught between goodbye and i love you

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