#3 I am thinking of making the rope long so she can drag it

[x22817]

I'm thinking about teaching Hek to bring me a pre-made bottle of AT but I have some concerns

1. This would be just when I am dizzy + light headed without low BP so it would be up to me to tell her I need it. I don't want it tied to an alert

2. I only have metal water bottles, so I need to figure out how she can bring it to me without hurting herself

3. Hek doesn't really enjoy carrying stuff. She'll do it. But I don't want to make her do something she doesn't enjoy doing.

None of these are really that problematic. I'm just trying to think of new things we can do

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember Me? (Part five)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: after this, I won't be tagging future parts as Rhysand x reader because this is turning into an eris x reader fic. Also, I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this! I'll try my best to be more frequent with updates ❣️

•○🌑○•

A loud squeal broke the silence, waking Y/n from her nap.

She groaned, turning her head, trying to bury her face in the pillow in hopes that it would drown out the noise of laughter and feet chasing around the house.

It was useless.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes before she squinted at the window, trying to gauge how long she had slept. The sun was high overhead when she had gone to sleep, and judging by its position now, she had slept for an hour at best.

Standing, she stretched. She looked around the room once as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun before she went downstairs.

The noise became louder and louder as she descended the stairs. Fin came running towards her, his little body slamming into her legs making her wobble dangerously. By the time she had regained her balance, he came into view.

At some point, he had discarded his heavy embroidered tunic, choosing to stay in the simple inner white shirt he wore. The shirt was thin, almost sheer, and a simple rope crisscrossing over Eris's chest held the garment together.

His gaze rose from Fin's body to Y/n's eyes, his grin faltering as he slowed down, panting. He gave her a quick once over, his eyes flickering to hers again. But then he grinned, returning his attention back to Fin.

"May I ask what the two of you are doing?" Y/n gently ran her fingers through Fin's soft white hair, slightly damp with sweat, her other hand resting on his shoulder.

He grinned up at her, his chin resting on her stomach as his hands clutched at her dress tightly. "We are playing. He is a soldier and I am the criminal. After he catches me, I will become the soldier and he the criminal."

Y/n smiled. "Are you not tired?"

Fin shook his head vigorously, his eyes sparkling.

Eris cleared his throat. Both mother and son looked at him. "I was wondering... if I could take Fin out?"

Y/n cocked her head. "Why?"

Eris shrugged. "I just thought it would be fun."

Y/n studied Eris.

It had been almost a month since that night when he had showed up at her door at midnight, and so far, he'd visited Fin almost everyday. Y/n was still trying to figure out why Eris was so interested in her son. She couldn't, for the life of her, make sense of Eris.

But his intentions didn't seem bad, so that was... a good thing?

Finally, she nodded, sighing. "Go. Have fun."

The hope on Fin's face turned into joy, and he turned to Eris with the biggest grin on his face. Eris returned it, grabbing the little boy's hand and sprinting off towards the living room.

"We'll be back soon!" Eris called out, and Y/n watched as he buttoned the last button on his tunic and led Fin out of the house. Or rather, Fin dragged Eris out of the house, the red haired male laughing at the youngling's enthusiasm.

A small smile bloomed on Y/n's face, and she had to make a conscious effort to wipe it off her face as she set to make dinner.

•○🌑○•

Y/n paused with her teacup midway to her mouth as a knock sounded on the door. It hadn't been all that long since Fin and Eris had left, and she wondered if it was them. By the excitement in Eris's eyes, Y/n had figured it would be quite some time before they returned.

The knock came again, more confident this time, and Y/n rushed to stand from the couch. "Coming!"

She set her cup on the center table, walking briskly towards the door.

And then she opened the door.

Which was honestly not the best choice, she decided as soon as she got a glimpse of who stood on the other side. She wondered if it would have been better if she just pretended that no one was home instead of screaming to let her guest know she was coming.

The only thing that kept her from slamming the door shut in his face was his appearance.

He looked like he'd been through hell.

And if Y/n was the one saying it, then it was a serious issue, because she had seen him go through literal hell under the mountain. She had seen him at his worst, and she still had never seen him this haggard.

She studied him, her hand tightening on the door handle.

There were dark circles under his eyes, so dark they made him look a little pale. Or maybe he had gone pale. His eyes were tired, no light in his those beautiful purple orbs Y/n had once adored so much.

"Y/n..."

The hoarseness in his voice snapped her out of the haze that had fallen over her, and she began to close the door.

But she couldn't do it because Rhysand's hand snapped out, his palm flat against the wood of the door. "Please, Y/n, I just want to talk. Please."

The sadness, the guilt in the once smooth, now rough voice gave her pause.

She wondered what to do. Her heart told her to let him in, not only into the house but in her and her son's life. Her brain scoffed at her heart's pathetic response and told her to slam the door shut in the bastard's face.

After a moment of contemplating, she decided to let him into the house, and her brain shook its head at her.

But the grateful look in his eyes prompted her to ignore her sane mind.

She shut the door behind her, watching quietly as Rhysand took in the toys lying haphazardly throughout the room, the papers drawn on with crayons, the chocolate stains on a shirt of Fin lying nearby. Y/n hadn't even noticed the shirt lying there. Maybe Eris had changed Fin's clothes when Y/n was sleeping.

She watched as Rhysand swallowed, his throat bobbing. There was so much emotions swirling in his eyes, Y/n had the urge to pull him in for a hug and never let go, whispering promises of forever and a family in his ear, just like before.

Just like before, when Feyre hadn't existed in their lives and it was just the two of them, keeping each other alive and sane under the mountain.

Y/n sighed, pushing those thoughts away. She couldn't think like that. She wouldn't.

The expulsion of air from her made Rhysand turn around, sadness and a plea in his eyes. Maybe a little tint of hope, but Y/n decided she did not see it.

"What did you want to talk about?" She muttered, wrapping her arms across her chest.

A small smile curled Rhysand's lips, one that didn't meet his eyes and told Y/n that it was a ruse because he was trying to not break down.

She could read him like a book, but maybe that's what happened when you spent almost half a century with someone.

"Straight to the point, eh? What happened to hellos and how are yous?"

Y/n gave him an unimpressed look, and he sighed. "i... I'm here to beg for forgiveness. I'm sorry."

That made Y/n roll her eyes and she straightened from where she was leaing against the counter behind her and made to turn away.

But suddenly a muffled thud sounded, and Y/n whipped her head towards where Rhys had fallen to his knees, his eyes wide and pleading, filled with tears. Her eyes widened, unchecked shock coursing through her.

She knew he would never go to his knees for anyone or anything other than his court, knew how much significance the tattoos on his knees held.

He lifted his hands in front of his face, shaking so badly that Y/n had the urge to hold them and never let go.

"What are you doing?" She asked, holding her heart on a leash.

The tears began streaming down his cheeks and his lip wobbled, staring up at her as he opened his mouth to speak. "Please forgive me. Please. I havent been able to slep or eat or do anything since we met that day. I cant think of anything except you and Finnian. please Y/n, forgive me. please."

"Rhys... we talked about this. You can't just waltz back into my life as you see fit. Where were you when i needed you? Where were you when Fin needed you? Why are you back now? It can't be because Fin is your- your son. You already have another one."

Rhys opened his mouth, but a sob escaped instead of words.

And Y/n's heart shattered right alongside the broken voice in which he spoke next. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I need you Y/n, I need you back."

Y/n dropped to her knees too, settling back on her heels as she stared at him, horrified. "What?"

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I still love you. I never stopped."

Y/n laughed without humour. "And what about Feyre? Huh? Is she disposable to you? Are all females disposable to you, oh mighty high lord?"

Rhysand winced. "Y/n please."

And then the leash on Y/n's anger snapped, and she snarled at rhys. "Please what rhys? Please what? Come back to you, even though you are mated, married and a father?"

"Yes!" Rhys snapped back at her, leaving her stunned. She was more shocked of the answer than his tone.

She blinked slowly, a tear slipping out of her eyes as she stared at Rhys's panting form, his eyes furious. "Yes, I fucking want you to come back to me. I am ready to leave everyone and everything behind to give my life, my time, my everything to you."

"You are telling me to destroy another female's, another child's life just so I could have you?" Her voice was no longer loud. It was soft as a feeling of resignation spread through her.

Nodding, he crawled forward, towards Y/n, making her scoot back until her back was against the wall.

"Rhys..." She whispered, trying to get his attention for long enough to tell him to get lost, but his eyes that had been staring into hers were now fixated on her lips. She pulled her knees to her chest as she monitored his every movement, her heart beating in her throat.

"Rhys." This time he met her gaze, and she was shocked to find hunger in that violet gaze.

He prowled closer on all fours, simply staring at Y/n the whole while.

When he was practically on top of her, he leaned forward, one of his hands rising to cup her cheek. "Y/n..."

"No..." She muttered on an exhale, but she couldn't do anything to stop him. It was as if someone had gotten into her mind and was forcing her to stay still.

But no matter how much she protested, she still wanted him. Wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, to be with her and to be hers. Only hers. She didn't want to share him with any human turned fae filth.

No. No. No. This is not what I think. What is going on?!

His face was inches from hers, his eyes searching her eyes as his face lowered, only a few inches between them. A hairsbreadth between them. And then finally, finally-

A loud knock on the door jolted Y/n, making her flinch. It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped onto her head, making her realise she was about to let Rhys back in.

Rhys growled, deep and low as his head swung towards the door. But then he froze, his head turning back towards her, slowly, his feral eyes meeting hers. Betrayal swirled in them, and something like guilt climbed up Y/n's throat.

He had smelled who was out there, and he was not happy. "What is he–"

She didn't give him a chance to finish, pushing him away with her hand on his chest as she climbed to her feet from her position on the floor and stalking towards the door. He made a sound of frustration behind her, and it prompted her to open the door quicker.

Eris smiled at her as soon as the door was open, Fin asleep in his arms, one of his hands holding a number of bags Y/n didn't bother to count.

She swallowed as he made to step inside. She hesitantly stepped aside as he began speaking. "We would have been out for longer, but then Fin was getting tired, and he also fell and scraped his knee. As soon as I picked him up, he fell asleep."

Eris shook his head, a soft smile on his face.

But then he stilled, his head twisting to look at where Rhys was now standing, glaring daggers at him.

If looks could kill, both the males would be dead, because both of them stared at each other like their mother was killed with a stick, and neither of them backed down.

"What are you doing with my son?" Rhys spoke in a deadly voice, prowling up to Eris like the predator he was.

Eris, to his credit, didn't waver. "Something you are not doing for your son."

Rhys snarled, lunging across the space between him and Eris, his hands outstretched towards Fin's sleeping form.

In a moment of panic, she threw herself in front of Rhys, and he jerked to a stop, his eyes blazing.

"Get away from him Y/n." Rhys snarled.

Y/n shook her head. She turned, meeting Eris's eyes, silently pleading.

Eris's own eyes were filled with deadly intent, but he quietly handed Fin over to his mother.

Y/n walked away from the two fuming males, not wanting anything to do with their bullshit. She knew both of them were pissed and not in their right minds.

But when were males in their right minds?

She gently set Fin on his bed, trying her best not to jostle him. And then she walked out, closing the door behind her. If the two males out there decided they were going to be having a screaming match, she would rather not have her son hear it.

When she walked out, she found the two of them still glaring at each other, but now there was a little more space between them.

As soon as they felt her, they whipped their heads to look at her. She could feel both their eyes following her every movement as she went and stood near Eris. Not near enough to touch, but enough to make a point.

That she trusted Eris more than her former lover.

Rhysand looked like he was about to go on a murder spree, but before he could do that, Y/n spoke.

"Leave."

Rhys laughed, begining to stalk forward. "no."

When he was close, he reached out his hand to her fsce, as if he was going to grab her.

But his touch never came.

Baceuse Eris had pushed his hand between the two of them and was having an intense staring match with rhys.

"She told you to leave."

"And I said no." Rhys muttered, eyeing the hand in front of Y/n.

"She. Told you. To leave. You don't want me to repeat myself."

Rhys lifted his eyes to Eris, then to Y/n. She looked away, her hand instinctively reaching towards Eris.

She realised it a little late. She was trying to shield herself from Rhys.

Rhys laughed again, a deranged sound.

"You will regret this Eris Vanserra. I will make you regret it." Then, in a voice that would have made greater men piss themselves, he mumbled. "I banish you from the night court. Leave while you still can. You have till sunset to leave, and if after that you still haven't left, I will hunt you down like the animal that you are and bathe in your fucking blood."

And then, Rhys simply stalked up to the door, nearly ripped it from its hinges, and walked out.

Eris then turned to Y/n and silently pulled her into his arms.

She let him.

And she let down walls keeping her emotions in check.

She clutched his shirt in her fingers as if she'd die if she ever let go, and cried and cried and cried until she couldn't anymore.

And before long, she heard the whispered words in her ear.

"Come with me to autumn court. Let me take care of you."

•○🌑○•

Part 6

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta

[aaakikoo]

SOMETHING PRECIOUS

summary → when you think that you nothing in your life other than to get married to the prince your parents set you up with, someone else comes along your way.

paring → bodyguard! b.katsuki x princess f!reader

an → sorry this took so long, and this is so shitty omggg! Been busy lately :)

warnings → cursing, killing attempt, uncomfortable situations etc, tell me if I missed any! VERY CORNY AND NOT READ PROOF, idk what was happening here icl.

series m.list - this is part 3

“Hurry y/n.” Your mother said as she dragged you from your room down to the dining room. Where prince Todoroki and has parents along with your father, the king sat.

“Good morning y/n, my beautiful daughter.” Your father said as he welcomed you in with your mother. You both took a seat on each of his sides.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Prince Todoroki said as he took your hand and kissed the top of it. After that moment you didn’t want to sit with him anymore.

“G-good morning.”

You sat there next to the man you hated the most as the everyone else discussed while you remained silent, not that anyone will take your ideas or thoughts seriously.

After that meeting you went back to your room, changed to a smaller more comfier dress and took a stroll down your garden to water your plants.

After you had finished you went back to your quarters to be met with a familiar face.

“Good afternoon, princess.” Bakugou said as he opened the door for you.

“Drop the formalities and get in.” He didn’t have a choice, you pulled him anyways.

“Can I help you, princess?”

“I told you to drop the formalities.” You said and room fell quiet.

“What do you need then, y/n?” He said as he took off his suit jacket and hanged it on one of your pink Victorian chairs.

“Do you remember what I said the other night?” You were shying away, Bakugou knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Yes I do.” He replied with crossed arms.

“Have you..considered or even thought about what I said..”

he sighed deeply. “Not very much. Because there is no point, you’re a princess, waiting to get married to another prince who is soon to be a king. While I am just your bodyguard that can be replaced any moment. Why would I ever consider something that will never happen?”

His words hit you very hard as you looked deeply into his eyes and said.

“It could happen. If I run away.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. I am here to do my job, not to make you my wife.”

“But I-I don’t love prince Todoroki. I don’t want his wife or have anything to do with him.” You were crying at that point. Bakugou hugged you very tight.

“I know that you’ve never asked for any of this, and I know this unfair. But the world isn’t fair. I know you appreciate me, and I appreciate you too, but we can never be together.” He said as he stroked your hair.

“Can we at least be friends?” You asked.

“It’s fine with me.”

You and Bakugou sat in your carriage on your way downtown to go shopping, just because you felt like it.

He had carried all of your bags and put them at the back of your carriage.

“I need a break from home so badly, it’s always nice to be here.” You said as Bakugou smiled at your enthusiasm.

As he was about to say something you heard a loud bang and him screaming your name at the top of his lungs.

As you both fell down to the ground, him on top of you.

You couldn’t process what happened as he already started running after someone. You ran quickly to your carriage and sat yourself inside, waiting for Bakugou.

Many minutes had passed and you didn’t know what was going on.

As you had decided to order the carriage driver to leave, he then came with a stranger between his two arms, wearing all black, wrapped with an old rope.

“Y/n, get home. I’ll be there soon.” Bakugou said as he was panting.

“No get in.” You fought back.

“Y/N LEAVE! ILL BE THERE SOON.”

You knew not to say anything back as you sadly nodded and made your way home.

As you got home you ran straight to your parents office where they were sat there looking very stressed out till you entered the room. Your mom ran over to you and hugged you.

“My y/n, what happened? we got calls from your bodyguard and from the police!”

“Mother! We were heading back from the city and I think someone tried to shoot me, but Bakugou chased after him and told me to get home.”

As your father was about to speak your personal maid knocked on the open door,

“Sorry to disturb, but there is alot going on downstairs.”

You and your family headed downstairs to see your bodyguard standing and panting heavily, and police officers and patrollers standing by the entrance.

“CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN WHAT HAS HAPPENED HERE?”

Your father yelled in frustration.

“Your majesty let me explain. As far as I am concerned, princess y/n was on her way back from a trip to the city when all of the sudden she gets attacked by this man right here.”

One of the police officers pulls the man from behind.

“Mr. Bakugou right here whom happened to be her bodyguard defended her and chased him down till he caught him and wrapped him with old ropes that he had found on the streets. We took both of them in to our department for investigations, and after along time we find out that someone had paid this man to attack the princess in different ways” The officer finishes and bows his head to the king out of respect.

“Can that explain the attack that happened while we were at the neighboring kingdom?” You asked and Bakugou was very quick to answer.

“Yes. But we need to figure out how he and perhaps other know when you are at home and when you aren’t, and how exactly did he get so close to the prince Todorokis estate.”

Your father had chatted with the police he told them to have more police officers patrolling in the cities, and keep their heads up at all times.

[iamthecomet]

Comet I am addicted to your ficlets. Is there a 3 step program for this?

Anyways... what do you think of Cirrus bottoming for Aether with a praise kink and bondage during which she's deep into subspace and then tender moments bringing her out of it with amazing aftercare?

I'm sorry I've been sitting on this for so long. But it's HERE NOW. We do NOT see enough sub Cirrus, that's for sure.

Cirrus doesn't drop easily. And not for very many people. Cumulus can get her go to down. She'll kneel for her with ease, obey, worship, give her anything she asks for. But she doesn't always get deep, doesn't always forget herself. She rarely feels the singular focus to please, to do good. So when she really needs to disappear from her own brain, she goes to Aether. He's the only ghoul knows how to get her here. Who she trusts to do it right and take care of her. She can let go around him, her carefully curated control finally let lose from her usually white knuckled grip. The ache in her knees and thighs from kneeling on Aether's floor for so long has finally started to fade into the background. Her arms are tied behind her back, forearms laddered together with pale blue rope. The position pins her shoulders back, sticks out her chest. The ropes dig into her skin, her shoulders hurt. But it's good. She likes it. Needs it even.

Her face is pressed against Aether's bare thigh. The head of his cock rests at the back of her tongue. Far enough in for her mouth to be full, not far enough for her to gag on it. She doesn't know how long she's been here. She lost track of time a while ago. Her mind has been blissfully empty for a while. Aether's been playing with her hair for a while, his fingers stroking absently against her scalp through her dark hair. Working out knots, dragging her deeper. "You're so good for me, so patient." Aether purrs. Cirrus feels something in her chest warm, swell. She'd preen if she had the range of movement to do it. She closes her eyes, listens to Aether's steady breath. She swallows a mouth full of spit and he makes a small noise, his hand tightening incrementally in her hair. He won't let her cockwarm him much longer, she can tell by the tension in his thighs, the weight of his breath. "Hands?" Aether asks.

Cirrus wiggles her fingers, does a hand check on muscle memory. She shifts her head to look up at him, awaiting instruction about how she can tell him that she's good. He tugs at her hair, pulling her off of his cock. It's flushed and shiny. She whines at the loss as he pulls out of her mouth. "''M green," she whispers, and then, without instruction, sinks her mouth back down on his cock. She sighs when the heady, salt musk of him settles back on her tongue. He groans.

"Cir--" She doesn't let him finish his thought, swirls her tongue, bobs her head. Let's the rhythm of it drain the rest of her thoughts from her mind. She is nothing but this task. She focuses on the taste of him, on the steady drool of pre on her tongue. His hand tightens in her hair. She lets the broken noises he makes soothe her, the hitch of his breathing as she swirls her tongue over the head. It doesn't take long for him to cum, hips twitching up as he spills into her mouth and down her throat. She swallows greedily, sucking him into over stimulation to make sure she gets it all. He hisses and pulls back. Petting his hand over her hair. He doesn't give himself time to come down. He stands, coming behind her to untie her. Once she's free he gathers her into his arms and pulls her onto the bed with him. He nuzzles against her hair, whispering praises as she sinks into his embrace. One hand drags down her side, over the curve of her hip, between her legs to find her slick and swollen. It doesn't take her long either. He rubs firm quick strokes over her clit and it's a matter of minutes before she's bowing off the bed and whining in his arms. She buries her face in his neck as she cums. She breaths him in, he smells like home. He smooth his hand over her shaking thighs, up over her stomach, her ribs, to curl around her back and hold her closer. She doesn't hear many of his words, she never does like this. They land and float away as she slowly comes back. But she can hear the reverence in them, knows he's telling her how good she is. How well she always takes him. He rolls her over, curling around her back, digging this thumbs into her shoulders to try to rub the ache away before it comes back. He presses soft kisses along the side of her neck, over her shoulder. She lets herself drift, lets the afterglow tug at her. It takes her a long time to come back. It always does. By then Aether's moved on from rubbing her back to massaging one of her aching thighs. She sighs happily, leaning her body back against him, melting into the softness of his body. "You with me?" Aether asks, kissing her temple. She nods. "Yeah. Thanks, Aeth." She can feel his smile against the side of her face. "Any time, Cir. I'm always happy to help."

[keiththecat]

Admissible (Part Six)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've always hunted alone. That is, until Bobby sends you on a hunt near the Winchester brothers. How will things change when they come to help?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, cursing, groping/ almost sexual assault, self-doubt/ self-esteem issues, character death, injuries, hurt/comfort

Author's Note: WARNING This chapter starts pretty heavy with injuries/torture. If you have concerns about avoiding anything, please feel free to skip or message me. Hope you're enjoying so far! Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading and thanks for all the love so far! <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

Part One

AO3 link here

Whooooosh!

Your face is hit with a large wave of ice cold water, waking you and leaving you gasping for breath. Your senses come rushing back to you and you’re taking in your surroundings all at once. You’re in a large concrete room, there are boxes and tables and shelves all around you. You’re sitting upright in a chair, the chair is bolted to the floor and your limbs are securely tied to the chair with ropes. You’re still in your clothes from earlier, but they are soaked now and you’re starting to shiver.

Standing in front of you and holding a now-empty bucket is a woman, she’s small in stature but carries herself with an air of confidence that borders on cockiness. She appears to be in her early 30s with long brown curly hair, and she is beautiful. Behind her slightly stands a large man, around Sam’s height but even broader. If Sam is built like a tree, this man is a Mack truck. He is bald, scowling, and standing with his arms crossed.

“Welcome back to the waking world, Y/N,” the woman says. “Sumus Noctis.”

We are The Night. Well that tells me nothing, lady, you think, internally rolling your eyes. Thanks.

The woman is slowly stalking back and forth in front of you, “alright, we’ll be nice and get the formalities out of the way before the fun part. I’m Valeria. This is Magnus. Yes, we’re demons. Yes, there are many more of us and no,” she stops pacing and grins at you, “no one but us will hear you if you scream. Any questions?”

You keep your mouth shut and face as blank as you can. You don’t want to egg her on, but you also don’t want to show any fear. Now that your brain is coming back to you, you send up a prayer and hope that you’ll be heard. Castiel, I’m in a warehouse somewhere. Demons called The Night. They warned that there are more of them but I’m stuck in a room with two. 

Valeria sighs and tilts her head at you. “Well, Magnus, seems like we have a tough one. Or at least she thinks so for now. She’s all yours. Get her ready for questioning.” She smirks as she turns and walks out the only door you can see from your restrained position, leaving you alone with Magnus, who is stalking toward you. He pulls back his right arm and throws it forward, you feel a sickening crunch as your head is thrown back and your nose breaks. Blood is pouring down your front and choking you as you try to breathe through your mouth. You tilt your head forward, trying to keep the majority of the blood from going down your throat.

Magnus walks over and opens a box, returning to your side with a large knife in his hand. He brings the knife to your collarbone, digging in deep and dragging it across your chest at a downward angle, cutting through your shirt as he goes. Your breathing quickens, struggling to keep from giving in and making noise. You struggle in your restraints, hoping that they will loosen even slightly but to no avail. He continues making more cuts all over you, each kiss of the blade making it harder for you to remain quiet. He grabs your hair in his fist and forces your face to his, smirking as he grits out, “you will be fun to break.”

*

Unsure how much time has passed, you’ve lost count of how many cuts and hits you’ve received, and your body is now more wound and blood than skin. Your breathing has slowed, your body settling into its shocked state. You have still managed to deny him the pleasure of hearing any screams. 

Magnus is now taking a moment and admiring his work. You make eye contact with him and he grins. He steps forward, still staring into your eyes, and he stomps on your left foot. Your breath catches in your throat, the bones in your foot crushing under his. You try to restart your breathing, holding back tears. The smile falls from Magnus’ face and he tilts his head as if he’s listening. That’s when you hear the sounds of fighting coming from behind the door Valeria went through. Magnus rushes toward you, cutting through your restraints and lifting you, holding you so that your back is against his front and you’re both facing the door. He has one arm wrapped across your chest and the other has his knife against your throat. “Try anything and you die, understand?” he says into your ear. You understand but don’t acknowledge him.

A few seconds pass before the door is opened, revealing the Winchesters. Sam is first through the door, Dean close behind him. Both are covered in blood, and you quickly scan them with your eyes for visible wounds. Both have busted up knuckles, you can see a small cut on Dean’s left forearm, and Sam has a small cut above his right eyebrow. Looks like no serious injuries for them, at least not yet. Best news I’ve had in a while. You allow yourself a small smile in relief. Both brothers have their pistols out in front of them, aimed at Magnus.

“Let her go,” Sam says, jaw clenched. 

Magnus presses the knife into your neck slightly, breaking the skin and you feel blood start to trickle down. Sam meets your eyes and you swear you can see panic in them.

“Now!” Dean yells.

Suddenly you hear the flapping of wings and Magnus’ knife is pressed further into your neck for a quick moment before his arms release you. Without his arms holding you up, you fall forward. You hit the ground with a yelp, Magnus’ body falling behind you. You realize that Castiel has a hand on Magnus’ head, pushing him into the ground with a bright white light coming from Magnus’ eyes and mouth. You manage to push yourself away from them, dragging yourself along the ground. Cass stands to his full height, but your eyes stare into Magnus’ burned out eye sockets for a few more moments.

“Y/N,” Sam’s gentle voice comes from beside you. You turn your head to look at him, finding him crouched beside you. He has his hands in front of him as if he was reaching to touch you but stopped himself. He gives you a small attempt at a smile, “hey, you’re gonna be okay. Can we get you out of here?”

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around him and ignoring the searing pain that comes from this. Even under all of the sweat and blood on both of you, you can still make out the soul-soothing scent that is pure Sam. Smells like vanilla, apples, and cedar. He hesitantly puts his arms around you, scared to cause you more pain than you’ve already felt. You hold onto him for a few moments before pulling away to thank them all.

“May I heal your injuries, Y/N?” Cass asks you, holding a hand out toward you. You nod, and he places his fingers on your forehead. You are filled with an intense warmth, and then his hand pulls away. All the pain in your body is gone, and you feel more refreshed than you have in years.

“Wow. Thanks, Castiel.”

“Here, Y/N.” Sam says, holding his jacket out to you but looking away from you. You look down and realize that Magnus’ cuts left your shirt and jeans in complete shreds, and they’re barely hanging onto your body. You blush, taking the jacket from him and putting it on. 

“Thanks,” you say, zipping the jacket up. “I have a lot of questions, but I’d honestly rather not stay here any longer, so clean up time?”

*

Cass flew back to the bunker, saying he would work right away to get the wardings back in place and hopefully even stronger than before. They offered for Cass to fly you back, but you felt safer sticking with the two brothers. Safety in numbers, you rationalized to yourself. You and the boys worked together to burn all the bodies the demons left behind, Sam and Dean insisting on doing the majority of the heavy lifting despite you being healed. Turns out Valeria wasn’t lying about there being more of them: there were close to twenty bodies to be dealt with. Unsure if there could be more coming, you all worked quickly to leave. It’s on the ride back to the bunker that you finally start asking questions.

“How did you guys find me?”

Sam turns in the passenger seat to face you. “Cass was able to see where you were when you prayed to him.”

You nod, “okay, yeah. Between that and the healing thing, I think I’m gonna need a rundown of what all he can do.” Sam nods, you continue, “do you have any idea who those demons were or what they want? They called themselves The Night.”

Both brothers shake their heads and Sam answers while turning back toward the front of the car, “no, we haven’t heard of them before and didn’t recognize them.”

“Time for some research then, I guess, huh?” 

“Time for sleep,” Dean says, looking at you in the rearview mirror. “Cass may have healed you, but you’ve been through it. It’s late. We can rest and get back to it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay.” You respond, turning to look out the window. You don’t want to admit that you’re scared to be alone and sleep. You still don’t know why they could have wanted you. You had obviously heard of demons, but as far as you’re aware, you haven’t crossed paths with them before. Throbbing pain is present throughout your body. Your jaw is clenched, you swallow your whimpers and groans. Magnus is standing over you, dragging his knife across your flesh, tearing through layers, blood blossoming from the newest slash-

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice rouses you from your thoughts. You realize you’ve been so lost in thought, the trip is over and the Impala is parked in the bunker’s garage. Dean is standing next to the car watching you, Sam is in the front seat but turned toward you, worry etched on both of their faces.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Embarrassed, you quickly get out of the car and beeline for your bedroom. You very quickly grab some clothes and shower supplies, wanting to clean yourself off and also not wanting to spend any extra time in your bedroom. You keep your head on a swivel, constantly checking behind you. You make it to the shower room, debating on barricading the door but settling instead on keeping your eyes on the door and a knife within reach. You take a scalding hot shower, scrubbing repeatedly until your skin is red and angry. Deciding that you’re as clean as you can get, you dry yourself and get dressed in jeans and a tee. 

Accepting that the last thing you want to do is lay down and sleep, you load yourself up with your weapons and patrol the bunker. Starting with the dungeons in the lower level, you take your time scanning every corner of each room. You jump when your phone vibrates with a text.

[Sam 11:08PM: Heading to bed. I’m across the hall if you need anything.]

He must think I’m in my room for the night. 

[You 11:09PM: Thanks, Sam. Goodnight.]

You shake yourself and go back to your patrol.

Part Seven

[priincebutt]

THREE HORSE FICS I AM LIVING. And cowboy Alex of course

YES! As a horse girlie, I am dedicated to embracing Henry's inner horse girl. So the first horse fic is cowboy Alex eventing Henry, which is Alex is a Texan cowboy and Henry is a east coast three day eventer. After a potentially career ending injury, Catherine sends Henry off to Texas to rehab and restart his training away from the competition in hopes of getting rid of any pressure.

“Easy now,” Henry soothes, running one hand down her gray cheek. He follows her steps, backing her out of the trailer as slowly as she will allow, and as he guessed, once she’s free of her box she paces a wide circle around him, as far as her leadline will allow. “C’mon, girly, it’s alright. Hey,” he tugs at the rope to gain her attention back. Her ears are rotating like satellites, and her head is held high as her eyes take in all of her new surroundings. The normal sounds of barn life surround them, and Henry can hear other voices and some horses nickering from inside.

Second is equestrian shenanigans! It's Alex visiting Henry at KP for the last time, and Henry wants to do all of his favorite things before he moves to New York, which includes going for a ride. It's going to be Henry teaching Alex to ride a horse, and a lot of riding innuendos will be had ;)

So this last visit to KP is about packing things up and tying loose ends and bottlingv up the memories of this place, holding them close and distancing from the heart ache and doubt and longing that happened here. Henry’s made a list of the things he wants to do before he leaves, and he shared it with Alex via text last night when he’d stayed up well past 3 AM packing (not because he couldn’t sleep with anxiety and anticipation).  It's not that he's afraid of horses per say… It's just that he has a very healthy respect for them. 

AND THE THIRD! First Prince Horses. This is just... the boys spending a day at the stables, but I dunno if this will ever become anything. It was the second fic I even started for this fandom and I just probably won't ever come back to it. But have this tasty treat!

"So do I get to wear a pair of your breeches?" Alex is smiling at him from their bed, all tousled curls and dimples, and Henry's heart stutters in his chest. He's not sure if it's the picture of perfection Alex makes right now, or the idea of his boyfriend wearing his clothes that's made his cheeks flush and his underwear bulge slightly. Alex of course notices this, and his grin turns wicked. If they weren't on a schedule today, Henry would definitely be back in bed already. Instead he turns, takes a deep breath, and fortifies himself with a long sip of tea. He's already in his own breeches, having showered and dragged a pair of riding pants out from the back of his closet, and he closes the button and fly before turning back to Alex. "No, I think jeans will do. I'm honestly not sure my breeches would even fit you, love," he says with an apologetic grin. He doesn't mention that he doesn't want to spend the whole afternoon hot, bothered and turned on if Alex were to follow through with that idea.

[Ask me about my WIPs.]

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirteen

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

august 3, 2018 los angeles, california orion

I've not left the apartment since I got home from the hospital two days ago, except to take Duke out a few times a day. The nausea has been unrelenting the entire time and I feel like I've been hit by a bus. I don't even sleep in our bed. I spend the whole time on the couch.

I'm grateful that I've only vomited once, but I haven't eaten a full meal in several days. From being stressed about Cal leaving to getting started on chemo, food hasn't exactly been appealing. I can tell my weight is going to plummet over the next several weeks, but it's hard to fight the feeling that I'll throw up anything I eat and also that adding anything else to the chaos in my stomach already is not a good idea.

Duke has been a great cuddle companion and has barely left my side. Calum called again yesterday but hasn’t yet called today. The time zones make it so confusing and I keep forgetting whether he’s ahead or behind of me in time. He texted me a few hours ago—it was just a selfie of him and Ashton backstage, letting me know they were about to perform. Once they finish the show tonight they’re flying to New Zealand, which I know he’s excited about.

It’s been long enough now that I think he should be off stage soon, if they aren’t already, but I know they’re going to be kind of chaotic afterwards because they’ll be rushing to the airport. I don’t plan on calling him at all; his schedule is so insane and busy, and I know he will do his best to call me as much as he can. I’ll call him if it’s important enough, but so far nothing has happened that should mean I call him.

This morning I woke up to a banging on the apartment door and to my dismay I found my moms had ordered groceries for me. It was just a bunch of easy to make foods ��� cans of soup, frozen pizzas, instant ramen — but it still frustrated me that they would do that without asking me. I don’t need their help.

I grumble silently, dragging the food inside with Duke sticking his face in the bags. “Nothing for you, sorry buddy.”

Once I get the frozen food into the freezer, I go to flop back on the couch. My body aches so much. I don’t feel like I can stand for more than a few minutes at a time. I’ve debated checking with Macy to see if she would be able to walk Duke for me, but I’m scared to rope another person in on my secret. I’m on the couch watching more Girl Meets World when Emelia texts me.

From: emi✨ how ya doin today? need anything?

To: emi✨ yuck. am fine. just don’t wanna move ever again.

From: emi✨ do you want me to walk duke for you? i can come by after work!

I want to say yes, but she’s already doing so much. She’s the one who will be driving me to and from chemo next week, and she’s already planning on coming over again tomorrow to keep an eye on me. I’m hoping I feel okay enough to hang out with Macy in a few days like we’d planned… I decide I am just going to suck it up. I can handle it. What's the worst that can happen?

I text Emelia "no" and then muster as much strength as I have left to get off the couch again. It's time to take a shower, I decide.

It takes me a somewhat shameful amount of time to get to the bathroom and turn on the water. I crank it all the way up because I'm freezing. Before I get in, I grab a pair of Cal's boxers and one of his hoodies to put on when I get out, and then I hook my phone up to the Bluetooth speaker so I can listen to music.

The sound of Maisie Peters' brief but iconic discography echoes in the room while I step under the hot water, and I instantly feel better. Washing my hair feels weird because it's so much shorter than it was when I last washed it. I pump out far too much shampoo for the amount of hair I have left, but it smells nice, so it's fine.

I'm singing the words to Worst of You when the music is replaced by ringing. Someone is calling me, and, if I had to guess, it's Calum. Of course, he calls right during the first time in the past several days that I can't answer. Quickly, I rinse the shampoo from my hair and try to scrub my entire body, undoubtedly missing a few places, but I just want to get out.

Tossing the sweatshirt on over my wet hair and clumsily stepping into the boxers, I grab my phone off the counter and hit the button to call Calum back. While it rings, I wrap the towel over my hair and walk out of the bathroom, plopping back on the couch.

"If it isn't my favorite girl on the planet," Calum answers.

My mood instantly lifts but I roll my eyes. "I'm telling Joy that she's not your favorite. She won't be happy."

"That's different and you know it."

I smile. I love that he loves his mom so much, but being ranked higher than her is really such an honor. She's a wonderful lady.

"Sorry to miss your call, I was in the shower."

"No, it's fine! We're driving to the airport now and I just wanted to say hi really quick."

"How was the second show?"

Calum starts talking about a technical issue that I don’t really understand but try to listen intently. Something about the sound in his earpieces cutting off and no one believed or understood him so he had to play the whole show not being able to hear anything. He said the fans made him a sign to remind him of his lyrics (a common trend) and someone threw a beaded bracelet onstage that had a C and an O with a heart between them.

“It’s yours now,” he says. “It won’t fit me but it’ll fit your tiny wrist.”

I smile. It’s a cute memento and I am glad the fans are kind of warming up to me. I try to avoid looking for their opinions and thoughts on me but it’s a bit inescapable if I go on any of the 5SOS pages to check for updates.

“Can’t wait to have it,” I tell him.

“Did I tell you I’ve flown Mum out to Auckland? We’ll get there around the same time.”

“No! You didn’t tell me, but I’m jealous. I miss her.”

“She misses you too. She said they’d love to come to LA for Christmas, too, so we can maybe start planning that?” He says it like a question. “I know it’ll probably be you planning it because I know you love planning but it doesn’t have to be just you.”

My heart gets warmer at the thought. I love hosting and spending time with our favorite people, especially for special occasions. It could also be the first time we get to introduce our families to each other. We only have one guest room, but Cal’s office/studio could fit an air mattress for Mali if she doesn’t bring a partner. My family could just come up for the day, or maybe Cal and I could sleep on the couch and give my moms and brother our room.

Then I remember treatment plans and all of the uncertainty in my future and my head starts to spin. Will we be able to host if I’m going through treatment? Maybe Cal should just go to Australia for Christmas without me, and I’ll stay here and get treatment or just spend it with my own family. I try not to think on it too hard, but there is still, devastatingly, a chance that Calum won’t be happy when I tell him I’ve been lying.

He wouldn’t break up with me over it, I don’t think, but sometimes when he’s mad he does lose sight of rationality. It’s not a unique trait to him. We all do it. He’s never gotten mad at me—we’ve had fights and arguments but he’s never been angry with me specifically, more a situation or something that just frustrates him. I don’t know how he’s going to react, and maybe that’s part of why I didn’t want to tell him at all. I am 98% sure Calum would’ve opted out of tour for me, but that other 2% gnaws at the back of my brain.

Would he have ended it then and there? Why go through the heartache of being with someone you know will die soon?

“Orion?” Cal’s voice interrupts my spiral.

“Sorry, what?”

He laughs. “I said you’d probably want to be in charge of planning Christmas.”

I laugh nervously. “Yeah, I mean… probably.”

He’s silent for a minute. It’s a short pause and with anyone else, it wouldn’t matter or stick out, but with Calum, it does. “You okay?”

I hate how easily he’s able to read me without even being able to see me. I quickly try to come up with an excuse. “Yeah, just been having a hard time sleeping. The apartment feels so empty without you.”

Calum pauses again, and I know it’s because that idea makes him a bit sad. “Would you feel better if Em stayed there? That could be fun, a four month sleepover with your bestie.”

I purse my lips, holding back that Em has already stayed here one night of the three that he’s been gone. “Maybe.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry you’re feeling lonely. Let me know if there’s any way I can help. Even if it’s just to fly home for a day whenever we have a break or to fly you somewhere for a day. I don’t care. I want to see you, especially if you’re down, okay?”

I want to shake my head but he can’t see me. “Cal, it’s fine. We’ll be fine. Just might take a bit to get used to.”

“I don’t want you to get used to a life without me, O. I’m here, forever, okay? Whatever you need, I’m there.”

With each word, I can feel my heart ripping down the middle, inch by inch. I don’t know how it’s still whole.

“I love you,” is all I manage to say. I’m choking back tears, the guilt is so much. How can I keep this up? How can I hold this in?

“I love you, too.” He sounds sad now. “Love, we’re almost to the airport. Do you want me to call you again once we’re through security? We don’t have to stop talking.”

I clear my throat. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. Just text me before you take off.”

“We’re both gonna be fine. I’ve gotta go. I love you.”

I feel my tears slowly trickling down my face and I don’t bother to wipe them away. “I love you. Bye.”

Then we hang up, and I can really start sobbing. Duke runs over, his ears perked up. He’s not sure why I’m crying and he hops up next to me, sticking his face by mine. When he starts licking my face, I stop him. I’d read something about how all bodily fluids post-chemo are essentially poison. I don’t want to get Duke sick, too. I can’t handle that. We can’t both be sick.

I pull Duke close to me and squeeze him as much as I can without hurting him. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this, but I know I will, at least for now. I’ll have Em and my moms and Ash and Duke and everything will be fine. It has to be.

next chapter

a/n: spoiler next chapter will have a bomb drop hehehe

[b10hzrd]

The Tides of Fate- Chp 3

They got on the boat and prepared to sail off. The ginger pirate leaned against the deck and gave a taunting wave to the commander, who was just standing in disbelief and terror. The white-haired man tossed Prince Corbin down and stretched.

“Marina, tie him up, would you? I need to let the captain know about our special guest.”

Marina rolled her eyes. “Fine, but if he tries to kill me im blaming you.” She approached the prince; he was still processing what was happening. 

“Gulliver, pass me the rope.” She turned to look at the grungy man who was avidly ignoring her request. Marina huffed and grabbed an apple from a nearby open barrel and chucked it at the red-haired man, causing him to fall on his bottom. 

“I SAID PASS ME THE ROPE,” She demanded. Gulliver gulped and scattered to get the rope, he shakingly tried handing it to her, but she snatched it and smacked his head with it. 

“Now, please don't be a screamer, no one will hear you. And don't struggle, it just makes my job harder.” Marina went to tie him up, but Prince Corbin got up and drew his dagger, pointing it at her.

“S-Stand back!” His voice trembled, “I am not afraid of you!”

“Your shaky hands say otherwise.” She crossed her arms looking at his shaking hands and back at him.

He lunged at her, but she swiftly dodged, grabbing his wrist and twisting it, causing the dagger to clatter to the deck. With a firm grip, she shoved him back, and he stumbled, landing on his knees. Marina knelt, binding his wrists with the rope despite his feeble attempts to resist.

"All tied up, just like a present," Marina remarked dryly, tightening the knots. She dragged him to the main mast and began wrapping the rope around the mast several times. The rough fibers bit into his skin, but Corbin remained silent, refusing to show any sign of discomfort.

"That should hold you," Marina said, stepping back to inspect her work. "Don't try anything stupid."

The prince looked around, taking in his surroundings. The ship had already set sail. His eyes met with the navigator of the crew, and his heart sank, he recognized her dark curly hair, her green eyes which, when the sun hit them, glistened so beautifully, and her necklace that she would always wear, that suited her no matter what. The gold of the pendant contrasted the color of her skin perfectly, making her eyes pop so elegantly like the stars in the night sky. It was her. It had to be. At that moment, Captain Elara emerged from her quarters and approached the mast, her blue eyes narrowing as she studied the prince. 

"So, this is our esteemed guest," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Prince Corbin, what a surprise."

Corbin met her gaze, his expression defiant. "What do you want with me?"

“At first, I had no idea why my crew would bring the prince of Azalea onto my ship. But then it dawned on me. How much do you think King Griffin is willing to offer to us for his only son?”

The prince clenched his fists, the ropes tightening around his wrists. 

“Loss for words? Well, I guess you’ll have to stick with us until your father responds to my ransom letter, which I presume won’t take too long.” Her smile widened. “In the meantime, you’ll stay right here, where we can keep an eye on you.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Prince Corbin. He watched her go, his mind racing. The deck bustled with activity as the pirates prepared for their journey, each of them casting wary glances at their captive prince. His gaze kept going back to the navigator, she looked back at him, her hands gripping the wheel tightly. The captain noticed her distraction and barked an order, causing her to snap back to her duties. Hours passed, and the sun began to set, casting an orange glow over the ocean. The pirates settled into their routines, and the noise on deck quieted. The green-eyed girl approached Prince Corbin cautiously, glancing around to ensure they were not being watched.

"Corbin," she whispered, kneeling beside him.

“Ophelia…” overpowered with emotions, tears began to form in his eyes. He looked at her, wondering if she was just a figment of his imagination. “I…I thought y-you were gone…” He wept. “I-I thought I had lost you, where—” 

She shushed him gently, and he immediately sniffed back his tears, trying to compose himself.

 “There’s no time for that right now,” she said softly but firmly. “I need you to listen to me carefully, I’m going to get you out of here.”

Corbin shook his head, “No, I-I’m not just going to leave you here!”

Ophelia glanced around nervously; he was getting too loud.

“I will be fine Corbin!” She whisper-yelled,

“No! I finally see that you are alive after years of thinking you had died, you expect me to just leave?!” 

“Yes, I do. Now please lower your voice, before the whole ship hears you!”

“W-What happened to you? How did you end up with these pirates?" He was so blinded by all his emotions that he couldn't hear a word Ophelia was saying.

“Answer me—!” 

The sound of a sudden smack to the prince’s face echoed through the ship, Corbin was left speechless, stunned by the stinging on his cheek. The crew came running up the stairs from the lower part of the ship after hearing the sound.

“What’s goin’ on?!” Gulliver was holding his sword, ready to attack.

“H-He...uh…” She gulped. 

“He insulted my navigational skills!” She stood up from her kneeling position and pointed at the tied-up prince.

Prince Corbin looked up at Ophelia in a panic. The pirates looked down at Corbin and then at each other in disbelief. Marina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

She scoffed, and walked closer to Ophelia, “That’s what this is about?” 

Marina took the bandana she was wearing out of her hair, knelt, and grabbed Prince Corbin’s face, her nails digging into his skin. She wrapped the bandana around his mouth and tied it tightly. She stood up and stepped back, her arms crossed, looking at Ophelia in amusement.

“Really, Ophelia,” she drawled, her tone full of condescension. “Next time, just gag him, there’s no need to create a spectacle.”

Ophelia nodded, her eyes flickering with relief as the other pirates seemed to buy her story. She glanced back at Corbin, his eyes wide with confusion and anger, still, he remained silent.

Gulliver sheathed his sword and sighed. “Right then, I’m goin’ back to sleep, if anyone wakes me up again, I’m throwin’ em’ overboard.” The pirates grumbled and went back downstairs to get some sleep. Ophelia turned back to Corbin, her expression softening as she knelt beside him once more. 

“Sorry about that, it was the only way I could think of getting you to listen,” she whispered, a slight giggle escaping her lips. 

Corbin didn't seem so amused. 

She cleared her throat, “Just trust me, I’ll find a way to get you out of here. Stay calm and don’t do anything rash, okay?”

Corbin nodded slowly, his eyes searching hers for reassurance, she completely entranced him—the way her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the gentle curve of her lips as she smiled. Ophelia squeezed his hand briefly, before standing up and returning to the helm, resuming her duties. As he watched her move with confident grace, Corbin couldn’t help but feel a swell of emotions. The night wore on, and the ship sailed steadily through the calm waters. Corbin, though bound and gagged, felt a strange sense of hope. After a decade of thinking she had been gone for good, Ophelia was alive. With all that in mind, he let the sounds of the ocean lull him to sleep.

He was woken abruptly by a rough shove, his eyes snapping open to see a burly pirate looming over him, the morning light casting a harsh glow on the man's scarred face.

“Rise n’ shine!” He yanked the gag off Corbin’s face and snickered. “Cap’n says His Majesty should eat,” Gulliver gave a mocking smile. 

Corbin coughed, his mouth dry and his throat sore from the gag. “I-I would never accept a meal from any pirate,” he managed to rasp out. 

As he finished his sentence, his stomach growled. Corbin looked away from the red-haired pirate in embarrassment. 

“Well, suit yourself, either way, cap’n needs to speak with you,” he shrugged.

The pirate cut the ropes binding Corbin's wrists and ankles, then hauled him to his feet. “This way, Your Highness.” He made a mocking bow and then started shoving him towards the captain's cabin.

Inside the cabin was Captain Elara, sitting at her desk, grinning widely. A chair pulled up in front of her desk and a plate of fried eggs with bacon on the side, the smell of the food engulfed his nostrils, he had never felt this hunger before. Still, he keeps his composure and sits down in the chair that was provided for him. Corbin crosses his arms and doesn't give the food a single glance, so as to not give in to his hunger.

“Not hungry, are we? Such a shame, I always thought my crew’s cooking was delightful, but I guess we all have different tastes.”

“Let’s get this over with, what do you want.”

“Speaking to a lady that way is not very princely of you, Your Highness.”

Corbin scoffed. “You are no lady in my eyes, you are nothing but a pathetic pirate who seeks nothing but to satisfy your own desires, not caring about the innocent people whose lives you endanger. 

“Oh, and you think you're so different from us pirates, don't you?” She raised a brow, her tone both amused and challenging.

Corbin glared at her, “I am nothing like you,” he spat.

Captain Elara chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Is that so? Tell me, Corbin, have you ever gone to bed hungry? Have you ever had to steal to keep your family alive? No, you sit there, in that grand palace of yours, untouched by the harsh and cruel world that lives beyond those palace walls.”

Corbin stiffened, “That’s Prince Corbin to you.”

Captain Elara’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Ah, yes, Prince Corbin. I do apologize. Does your title make you feel safer? More important?”

“You don’t have the right to address me so informally,” Corbin snapped. “I am a prince, not some commoner you can dismiss so easily.”

Captain Elara leaned forward; her eyes boring into his. “Titles mean nothing out here, Corbin. Out here, it's what you do, not what you’re called, that defines you. And right now, you’re just another captive. Your title doesn’t change the fact that you’re at our mercy.”

 “What do you think your kingdom does? Do you think those taxes you collect come from nothing? The luxuries you enjoy are built on the backs of people who struggle, who fight for every scrap. Your family sits in a palace while others starve. You think you’re so different, but you’re just as complicit in the suffering of others.”

Corbin felt a chill down his spine. “That's n-not the same,” his voice shaking. He had no rebuttal to her argument, he was speechless.

The captain shook her head, looking at Corbin with pity. “You are so blind to your own privilege that you refuse to see how similar we truly are. You shame us for what we must do to survive, but never in your life have you had to make those sacrifices. You and your family are no better than us pathetic pirates.”

Corbin stared at her, his mind racing.

She leaned back, her expression softening slightly. “Now, eat something. We wouldn’t want you to faint from hunger before we get what we need.”

Corbin glances at the plate of food in front of him, his stomach felt like it was begging for him to accept the meal. He forced himself to look away.

“I don’t accept meals from pirates.”

“Then I suppose you're willing to starve yourself to keep your pride.”

“Yes, I am.”

Captain Elara sighed dramatically, “Have it your way then. Gulliver!”

The red-haired pirate re-entered, a knowing smile on his face. “Yes, Cap’n?”

“Would you be a dear and tie him back up, it seems His Highness isn’t hungry after all, we can continue our conversation later. Maybe some alone time will help him reconsider the position he’s in.”

Gulliver grabbed Corbin's arm, pulling him to his feet. “Right this way, Your Highness,” he said with another mocking bow.

Corbin gave one last defiant look at the captain, who simply waved at him with a smile. Gulliver dragged him back to the main deck and roughly tied him to the mast once more. The ropes bit into his wrists, Corbin flinched. Everything was so confusing, was he truly the same as the people he despised most?

[inkandpen22]

Chaotic as The Sea (3/?)

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3k Warning: swearing, violence Part Summary: The Black Pearl arrives in Bimini and as any adventure with Jack Sparrow, there’s chaos

Masterlist

Two days later... 

Will

We arrive at Bimini as the sun begins to set. Y/N and Barbosa argue that we should wait until sunrise to explore the island. I argue that we can't waste another minute without trying to rescue Elizabeth. Jack, to my surprise, agrees that we shouldn't wait. Though, I think his reasoning is because he wants to see the fountain. 

Barbosa, Jack, Gibbs, Ragetti, Pintel, Y/N, and I all hop off the boat to explore the island. Gibbs, Will, and Pintel all carry long torches for us as the only sources of light. 

"Okay, so I know the general direction, but unless you feel like risking the chance of getting lost, which I don't, I suggest we use the compass," Y/N announces. 

"I thought you were certain of the fountain's location," Barbosa remarks a tad agitated. 

"Every tree and speck of white sand look exactly the same. Next trip, I'll drop your ass in a jungle in the middle of the night and tell you to find your way out!" She snaps. 

"Okay, well then let's use the compass." Ragetti takes the compass of Jack's belt and hands it to Y/N. 

The device begins to spin in her hand and Ragetti peeks over her shoulder. Jack quietly moves to stand beside her, wishing to catch a glimpse of himself. 

Abruptly, Y/N shuts the compass and frantically tries to get rid of it. "Oh uh, no it's okay, Jack can take it." She tosses it to him. 

"Me?" He looks at her wide-eyed and panicky. "No, give it to Will! He wants to find the bloody place." He tosses it to me. 

"What's wrong with you two?" Barbosa yells in frustration. 

"The compass doesn't work for them," I state. 

"Seriously!" Y/N huffs. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Barbosa questions. 

"When Jack holds it the arrow points to Y/N," I explain pointing between them. 

"Who told you that!" Jack questions. 

Then, Jack and Y/N both glare at Gibbs. "Gibbs!" They bark in unison. 

The older man holds up his hands in surrender. 

"Well, why can't Y/N do it?" Pintel questions timidly, circling his hands together. 

"Why can't Will just bloody do it and we can move on!" The woman challenges. 

Jack nods. "I'm with her on this one." 

I sigh. "When Y/N holds it, it points toward whatever she wants so bad in New France." 

"But isn't New France North of here?" Ragetti questions. 

"Yes!" The rest of us answer in unison. 

His face scrunches together in confusion. "But uh-" 

Y/N elbows Ragetti in the ribs. "Shut it!" She's quick to change the subject. "Let's go! Will! I'll lead the way, you just act as a checker." 

_______________________________________________

30 minutes later... 

Y/N

As the seven of us continue to march through the thick jungle, Jack appears beside me. "After we're finished in New France. I say you and I pay a visit to Tortuga for old time's sake." 

I laugh. "Ha! Wish to relive our break-up?" 

"Think of it as a celebration of our reunion," he tries to sugarcoat it. 

I roll my eyes, laughing as I move ahead to join Will up front. "In your dreams!" 

Ragetti

I pick up my pace to catch up with Pintel. "I know something you don't know!" 

"What?" He eagerly asks. 

"When Y/N was holding the compass, the arrow was pointing toward her," I whisper. 

His face scrunches together. "Y/N desires herself?" 

"No!" I huff. "Jack was standing next to her!" 

He gasps, putting it all together. "So you mean-" 

"Yes!" 

He grins. "That's kinda sweet actually." 

Y/N

"Now be careful!" I announce to the men, watching my step as we get closer to the mountainside. "The natives made pit traps and other boobytraps-" 

Before I can finish my warning. Jack screams from the back of the group. When I whip my head around, Jack is nowhere to be seen. "For idiots like Jack," I sigh. 

"Does anyone see him?" Will questions, moving his torch around. 

"It's kind of dark!" Gibbs remarks. 

"Thank Jack and Will for that! They refused to wait until morning," I grumble, marching back to where I last saw Jack.  

"Jack!" We all call in a scatter as we search. 

"Captain!" Gibbs shouts. 

We all watch our steps, checking the heavily covered jungle floor and sky for any sign of him. He could be hanging from a tree in a net or in a hole somewhere. If it's deep enough and well covered, it'll be hard to hear him.

"This is ridiculous!" Gibbs huffs. 

"I say we leave him and tell the crew some natives got him," Barbosa suggests.  

"I have an idea," I announce as one pops into my head. "Give me the compass," I ask Will, holding out my head. 

"But how will that help?" He questions with a raised brow. 

I hold the compass in my palm and lift the lid. I watch as the arrow spins. Soon, each of the men are gathered around me in a circle, eager to catch a glimpse. Then, the arrow stops, pointing Southeast. The men break apart, allowing me to follow it. 

"Watch your step," I advise. 

I keep a close eye on the arrow, making sure it doesn't change direction. I'm about to take another step when Will suddenly grabs my arm. I glance ahead and realize there's a massive pit in front of me. Its edges were covered in leaves and brush. 

"Oh, thanks," I exhale deeply. 

"Captain! You down there?" Gibbs shouts down below, holding a torch above the massive pit. 

I kneel down beside the pit and await an answer. 

There's a faint, "Am I dead?" 

I giggle and shout back. "No, you're not dead you idiot!" 

"Pintel! Ragetti! Go fetch a rope from the ship!" Barbosa commands, sending the two off. 

I laugh, relieved that Jack is okay. Based on the distant swooshing sound, the pit is filled with water thankfully, not spikes. This could've been a recovery mission. I sit back on my knees and glance up to find the remaining three men staring at me with knowing grins. 

"What!" I sass, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"Nothing," they all say, breaking apart to roam in different directions. 

I roll my eyes, such nosy people, pirates. 

____________________________________________

The men work together, yanking Jack up from the bottom of the pit. I remained to kneel beside the edge, holding up a torch so we can see Jack when he pops up. 

"Ho!" Barbosa calls out as they tug the robe. "Ho!" 

Soon, Jack appears from within the darkness and I grip his belt, guiding him to safety. The men release the rope and relax, releasing panting breaths. 

"You okay? Captain!" Gibbs questions. 

"Yeah," Jack flips onto his back, catching his breath, "yeah, I should be fine. How did you-" His eyes flicker about until his eyes land on the compass on the ground beside me. 

"Ah, now that's interesting." A cheeky smirk begins to form on his face as he lifts his gaze to meet mine. 

I shove him in the shoulder, frustrated. "I told you to watch where you were going!" He has no idea how worried I was. 

"I was a tad distracted by you, Love," he chuckles. 

My eyes fall shut as I release a sigh of relief. Thank God, he's okay. 

Jack places his hand on my thigh, capturing me by surprise. His dark eyes meet might and I place my hand over his. He flips his over and they interlock in my lap. His eyes soften at the sight. 

Suddenly, there's a series of yells from across the jungle. Each of us tosses our heads to the side and sees small glimmers of light in the distance. Jack flies up beside me from his laid position. 

"Are they with us?" He questions. 

There's the ring of a gunshot and the bullet hits the tree right by Barbosa's head. 

"Don't think so!" Will declares, his voice shaky. 

"Who are they?" I shout. 

"Wait! They're Black Beard's men! I remember one of them. He's the one who took Elizabeth!" Will determines. 

“How did they find the fountain?” Barbosa yells. 

“He knew you’d come and find me!” I comprehend and look over at Jack. “He’s been following us here!” 

Pintel and Ragetti immediately make a run for it. 

“I’m with them, time to go!” Will decides and starts to run back to the ship. 

Jack takes my hand and instantly brings me to my feet. We begin to run too, hand in hand. 

“Cowards!” Barbosa shouts and stands his ground. He whips out his gun and begins to shoot at the mob. “Come and get it you slimy gits! Ha!” He laughs. 

Running utterly blind in the dark jungle, there’s hardly any light other than that that can make it through the tree tops from the moon. We make it through the jungle and see the beach a few yards ahead. Will and the two morons make a bee-line for the ship, when they’re suddenly stopped by a cluster of Blackbeard’s men running from down the beach. Jack pulls me into his side and draws his sword.

 Suddenly, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and I’m yanked away from Jack. He immediately whips around and his eyes grow wide. My back slams into someone’s chest and I struggle to free myself. More of Blackbeard’s men appear from within the jungle and begin to fight Jack. Two men begin to drag me off and I fling around, trying to break free. 

"Jack!" I scream. “Let me go you bastards!” 

Jack searches for me and when he finally spots me, he screams. "No!" He looks at me pleading and full of guilt. 

As more of Blackbeard’s men appear, we both quickly realize there’s nothing either of us can do. These morons are taking me to their ship, more than likely to see their captain and to be held prisoner. This is yet another reunion I did not request. 

______________________________________

After sailing out to the Queen Anne's Revenge a couple hundred yards from the island, the nasty men take me aboard and immediately drag me off to the captain’s quarters. They swing open the double doors below top deck and we enter a familiar red velvet decorated office. 

A tall man stands behind the desk with his back to us. "And who do we have here?" A familiar voice purrs. When he spins around, his grin falls to confusion. "Y/N?" 

"I told you! Idiots!" I huff and yank my arms free from his buffoons."Hi, Eddie," I offer a fake smile.

"Eddie?" The pair beside me repeat in unison. 

The captain pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "How many times must I tell you?" 

"You could hand me the Templar Treasure yourself, I won't call you Blackbeard. It's stupid," I laugh, approaching him. 

"Leave us," he commands his minions. Once we’re allow, he moves to stand the other side of his desk. He props himself against it with a grin. "So, you and Jack are back together again..." 

"No way in hell," I snicker, taking a look about his office. He’s changed it in the last five years. "He promised me he knew where the Templar Treasure was, I'm simply completing my half of the deal." 

"Which is?" He inquires. 

I stop my admiring of his decor to meet his gaze. "Showing him to the fountain." 

"You would honestly betray me like that?" He acts offended my placing his hand against his chest. 

"If it guaranteed me the Holy Grail? Yes,” I stand firm. 

"Your loyalties still lie with that treasure? You truly are a pirate at heart,” he smirks. He rises from his position on the desk to pour us chalices of wine. As he approaches me, his eyes travel up and down my entirety. "Dare I say, you look amazing." 

I accept the wine, but roll my eyes at his compliment. "Oh save it.” 

He pouts dramatically. "What happened to the spirited eighteen-year-old I first met?” He reaches up and tucks strands of my hair behind my ear. “You're bitter now." 

I lift my arm and knock his hand away from me. "It's called maturing." 

"Have you matured enough to conclude that I'm the better man than Jack?" He smirks, stepping closer to me. 

I move away from him and toward the book case against the far wall behind his desk. "I think I prefer neither of you,” I answer over my shoulder. 

"One point, if I recall correctly, there was a point where you couldn't choose between us." He narrows his eyes, taking a sip of his wine as he creeps closer to me again. "Do you remember those few months in Bermuda?" 

I shift of my heels, allowing my eyes to fall to the Persian rug beneath them. "It was always going to be him, Eddie..." 

Abruptly, he rushes toward me and pins me against the bookcase. My wine falls out of my hand and stains the rug. "I could've had you if I wanted!" He growls. 

I look him dead in the eyes with a clenched jaw. "You dare threaten me!” 

He laughs mockingly. "What? Going to curse me?" 

I grin. "That used to terrify you if I recall correctly." 

"You're all bark and no bite. I happen to know for a fact, you don't practice dark magic!" He challenges. 

"Just because I don't practice it, doesn't mean I don't know how to use it.”  

There’s a commotion outside and soon the double doors swing open to reveal Jack marching in, gun drawn. While Eddie is distracted I pick up a vase off one of the shelves near me and I knock him over the head with it. The vase shatters into a hundred pieces over his head and the man falls to the ground with a thud at my feet. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I meet Jack’s gaze. His eyes flicker away from the man knocked out on the floor and up to me. 

"I hate that I'm relieved to see you," I pant. 

He runs over to me and takes my hand. "Consequence of loving me." He guides me over to one of the windows and swings it open. “Can you jump?” 

I look at him as though he as three heads. “Can you jump? What kind of dumb question is that?” I mock. Then, I ask him a similar dumb question. “I don’t know Jack, can you swim?” I roll my eyes and climb up onto the windowpane and jump out. 

“Jesus, Mary, and the bloody camel sorry for asking!” I hear him grumble under his breath as climbs out the window and jumps in after me. 

___________________________________

Jack

We’re not sure how we’ll get Elizabeth back, but we will. Though, I suspect that he was never after the fountain. No, what he truly wanted was Y/N and the fountain was just a cover-up. I brought her right to him. For now, we just need to create some distance between us so we can form a plan. 

Y/N climbs the ladder above me and Gibbs helps her on board. She offers him a thank you and brushes herself down. The crew is well into their tasks, getting us far from this island as soon as possible. 

“Glad to see you’re safe, Miss,” Gibbs greets. 

“Did everyone make it back okay?” She questions as I climb aboard. 

“Yes, even I,” Barbosa announces with a proud grin. “Not with the help of you lot,” he adds. 

“Don’t exactly have a death wish,” she giggles. 

“There’s a change of clothes for you in the Captain’s office,” Gibbs informs her. 

She offers him thanks and begins toward my quarters. Barbosa and Gibbs break apart to return to their positions. 

“You! Hold it!” I call out. 

The two men glance in my direction, wondering who I’m speaking to. They follow my gaze to Y/N. 

She whips her head around, her gorgeous, long, wavy, Y/H/C flowing in the breeze. She crosses her arms over chest. “Excuse me?” She scoffs with a grin forming on her lips. 

I narrow my gaze at her. “I have one question.” 

Barbosa and Gibbs watch the interaction, their heads tilting back and forth between us with each exchange. The crew too watches as they attempt to multitask with their duties. Her eyes remain on the deck panels and anywhere else but me. 

“Did you know the compass would lead you to me?” I ask. 

There’s a pause and I can tell she’s reluctant to answer despite the amused expression she wears. Then, her eyes rise to meet mine with a sigh. “Yes... maybe...” 

I smirk, approaching her slowly. “Oh see now that’s interesting, don’t you think?” 

“What? Just going to gloat about the ship now?” She rolls her eyes, directing her focus in the distance away from me. 

I bring my hands up to her cup her face and make her meet my gaze. To my surprise and pleasure, she doesn’t move from her spot or shove me away. Instead, brings her fingers to hook through the loops of belt. 

“You stay with me from now on. No more hiding out.” I smirk. “That’s an order,” I tease quietly between us. 

“Whatever you say...” Her eyes fall to my lips and then flicker back to my eyes. She grins. “Captain.” 

One my hands slips behind her head to her neck and I bring my lips to meet hers in a needy kiss. Her arms fling over my shoulders, deepening the kiss. 

“Now they’re going to be insufferable!” I hear Barbosa grumble to Gibbs as he stomps off. 

Five years of searching for her, waiting for, wondering if I’ll ever see her again. What happened between us all those years ago is one of my greatest regrets if not the biggest. Our relationship has never been easy, in fact it’s exceedingly complicated and one giant headache. We haven’t stopped arguing since the moment we met and rarely agree on anything. Yet, we love as we do argue with each other, passionately and with everything we have. Now that I have Y/N back and I know she loves me in return, I’m never letting her go. God help me if I let Blackbeard anywhere near her. 

_______________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @subwonwooagenda @starfire56 @doveygirlkay-blog @dansyberry @dansyberry @meany-marcelini @naturallyathief @oliviamae4193 @xxshoutxx @house-chase465636 @the-clint-barton @lxr1582 @m00ny-stars @lonliest-love @meandmymessyminds @jick-n0nas @biracy @kriimu10 @soxpoprocks @peachyplxm @captainluciabianchin @cannibalistic-cicada @a-e-i-owe-you @velvetsnaiil @mindifislytherin666 @bunkyung @livinglifewithoutbeingseen @ghosts-face @mx-pibbles @bigplaidwinnerparty @greentea121598 @that-eco-bitch

[iiraven]

Odyssey

Pairing: Poseidon!Armin x Reader

Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: slow-burn, minor character death, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, Yandere behaviour, puppy play, piss play, body worship, throne sex, implied age-gap, oral(male receiving), hair pulling, collaring (without consent)

Word count: 9.8K

Synopsis: Armin’s quest for revenge leads him to you, daughter of a merchant and object of his infatuation.

Author’s note: thank you @bubbleteaimagines​ for hosting this collab and allowing me to join <3 Also, thank you @onyxoverride​ for teaching me how to write about pee!

Attack on Titan Masterlist

Present day:

If the river could speak, you wonder what it would say.

In the silence that surrounds the rushing of the water, you’re sure you would hear it. Sometimes, you’re sure you can hear it, but then you remember the dangers of trusting unfamiliar voices. Especially unfamiliar voices in a place like this.

No one goes near the river Shiganshina. And you forget the reasons why much too often.

It’s rocky, slippery, there’s no path to walk on, and the nymphs grow sharp teeth when men approach them, hissing and eyes glowing red. But that’s what makes it perfect for you.

Sasha first mentioned the river months ago, recalling the places on the island that her and her father avoided whenever they went hunting. You hadn’t paid much attention to it until days later, when Connie recounted with round eyes how Floch’s body was found beside the river Shiganshina, mouth full of water and eyes gouged out. You knew you needed to go there yourself.

A pearl necklace is what you stole. And under the guise of going to wash clothes at the well, you made your way south of your small island with only Sasha’s vague instructions and your intuition guiding you.

You could hear the ocean as you walked through the untouched woods, your heart hammering in your chest every time the waves crashed against the island’s cliffs. You weren’t allowed to see the ocean- you weren’t allowed to be around any large body of water, for that matter- but you still knew your island well enough to know that a step in the wrong place could lead you tumbling down the cliff.

You would die before you got to feel the water on your skin and that, you thought, would be the most tragic part.

As your feet began to sink into the muddy ground, you could smell the salty water, and a slight metallic scent behind it that only drew you in closer until you reached a clearing. It was small, crowded with foliage with only a few dead plants on the ground where you could only assume people had attempted to step foot.

And there was the river. It was small, its water emerging from underground before the tide pushed it to the edge of the island- to a waterfall. So loud that it could drown out any noise, any screams. You shivered. For a moment, you just stood back and watched. The water was was green, but so clear that you could still see the fish swimming beside the floating objects. Coins, silver, small statues, and whatever else hopefuls had tried to offer. You pulled out your own offering and whispered a short prayer before throwing the necklace in.

It could have been your imagination, but the water calmed. It was quieter. And, like that, you felt as if the river had opened up its arms to you. Strong arms that you have to be cautious not to spend too long within lest you get trapped.

Thankfully, you’ve learned to read the signs. You know when the river wants you to leave, when it wants you to keep your distance, when it wants to keep you close, and even when it wants you to bathe. Those are the special moments. It’s rare the river is calm enough for you to dip your naked body into, but surrounded by the cool water, you feel like you could stay their forever.

If the river could speak now, however, you’re sure it would tell you to fuck off.

Either that or it would tell you to come back when you have something more to offer its god than a single golden bead from your grandmother’s necklace. Only three are left on the thin string, though you think you might keep the last one to honour her death. After that, you’ll have to go back to offering coins and whatever other trinkets that will keep the god of this river sedated long enough for you to dip your feet into the cool water, maybe take a sip, and then return home before your father realises where you’ve been, much less where you’ve been unchaperoned.

The latter is hardly your fault. Sasha and Connie are too scared to step foot in the Shiganshina forest, let alone the river itself. And you can’t trust anyone else to accompany you, especially the servants whose tongue could slip at the drop of a golden coin. Your father would never forgive you for spending time in the territory of the God of the Ocean or- as he liked to call Armin- the destroyer of seas. And thus, being left alone seems to be the only way.

Well, that’s unless Mr Arlert decides to join you.

The owner of the stable who appeared on the island out of nowhere is the last person anyone would expect to be brave enough to spend time at the river Shiganshina. He mostly keeps to himself, only ever seen tending to his horses or immersed in scrolls of literature and poetry. And yet, he’s here almost as often as you are, almost as vulnerable as you are.

Despite his solitary nature, Mr Arlert has been quick to make himself adored. Mothers swoon over his charm, scholars constantly indulge in his curiosity, and sailors are fascinated by his knowledge of the world and its oceans. He’s no warrior, and already in his late twenties, but he’s still without a doubt one of the most eligible bachelors on Paradis. And, yet, to any marriage proposal sent his way, he declines with a polite “A husband is not what I am fated to become”. Even Annie Leonhardt- whose father Mr Arlert would constantly visit- had her heart broken. But no one blames Mr Arlert, of course, who was there to comfort Annie, to make her realise that she just needs to be a better person, that’s all. It’s not his fault her heart broke, Mr Arlert reassured.

Thinking about it now, you’re amongst the handful of women who haven’t been offered to the tall blond. And with that comes a sigh of relief as you drag your fingers through the water.

It’s not like you dislike him- the opposite, actually- but being with Mr Arlert is like taking the hand of an invisible man in the dark and letting him guide you.

His words constantly have your thoughts spiralling in directions that they shouldn’t be. Thoughts about leaving the island, thoughts about going to the ocean, thoughts about becoming a priestess. Thoughts you aren’t allowed to have.

You fate is bound to the home you were born in, a thick rope tied to your ankle, only letting you go as far as this very river. And Mr Arlert sits beside that rope, a knife in his hand, blue eyes staring into your soul, waiting. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for. But what you’re sure of is that to be taken away from the life you know of is an inconceivable fantasy. The unknown is a dangerous thing, after all.

The small island of Paradis may lie far away from the rest of the world, but their core values remain the same. A woman must grow up to either serve her father or her husband. Your fate has already been decided for you. And, frankly, if it means not having to share a bed with an old man who marries you for your dowry, you’re very happy with taking care of your father until the day that he’ll be put into the ground.

But then there’s always the third option. A woman who serves neither her father nor her husband will serve her god. 

You had never been given that option by your god-hating kin. Simply suggesting a future as priestess would earn you at least five lashes, so why… why can’t you stop thinking about it? Your instincts have you blame Mr Arlert, but you know that your fixation began before he arrived on the island; all he’s done is vocalise your thoughts.

As a gust of wind blows the leaves and the salt from the sea gently caresses your cheek, you wonder who your god would be. Do you resonate with Pieck’s beauty, or Zeke’s creativity? Maybe. But as you look into your reflection, you know that your god is no other than Armin, the god of the ocean. The fates must think this is hilarious, but you just want to scream.

“It’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your father worrying about you.”

You jump at the sudden voice, turning around at the familiar face, leaning against a tree with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Mr Arlert.”

His footsteps are so gentle, as are his apologies.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve come to invade your space, after all.”

“It’s not my space, it’s Armin’s. The god is only letting me stay here.”

He smiles a knowing smile, one that you would usually find patronising on any other man. But Armin is charming, too charming for you ever to think that of him. “I suppose you’re right.”

He comes to sit down beside you, taking his usual place at your right- the voice of reason. It’s quiet for a moment, before you remember.

“Lemnos,” you say.

The blond smiles. “I’m not named after a place.”

And you roll your eyes, as you’ve done every time he’s given you a useless hint. “That hardly narrows it down.”

“Well, I can’t make it too easy of a game.”

“You can’t make it impossible either!”

“It seems like I already have.” And you’re not sure if you want to wipe the smirk off his face or just stare at it.

“What about Tree?”

Arlert laughs. “No, but you have one guess left.”

“What?!” You sit up straight, eyes wide. Now you really want to wipe the smirk off his face.

“You have seven guesses, and in the eleven months we’ve known each other, you’ve used up six.” His explanation is calm and rational enough for you to almost convince yourself that the rule has been there from the start.

“Wait- wait. I never knew about this!”

“I thought everyone did. It’s traditional wager rules.” Mr Arlert’s tone is sorry, but you know he’s everything but. So, you cross your arms and pout, hoping that staring him down might at least give you the smallest chance of winning your wager.

He leans forward, mirthful and you feel a shiver go down your spine. “What is it, little puppy, sulking because you’re afraid you can’t win?”

You flush at the implication of your loss- “No- no not at all- no”- before registering his actual words are and only then can you feel the heat rise and you’re sure it’s doing you no service. “I know I can win!”

“I know you can too,” he assures you.

You frown. “Are you being sarcastic?”

It’s his turn to flush. “No, not at all! You can win- the water god favours you, after all.”

And although you shrug, his words stick. They always do.

Before you go home, you pass by Armin’s temple and place at the foot of his statue the remainder of your grandmother’s necklace.

A year ago:

Amrin knew how fickle the gods were and he thought that this knowledge made him impervious to those feelings. He watched how Eren jumped from woman to woman daily, how Reiner picked and chose his battles without a care, how every single fixation a deity would have never lasted more than a year. He thought of how stupid it was to spend a life of immortality indulging in such temporary pleasures. And he looked down on his kin for that very reason.

It was only after one argument too many that Armin finally let it slip. The god of the sea was usually quiet, offering soft smiles, casual conversation, and minimal conflict. That was his only rule: keeps quiet before the gods of the pantheon as he takes his anger out on the humans below. But that day, he forgot about his rule.

Maybe it was the years of silence that caused the Eathshaker’s outburst, or maybe it was just Eren’s bored expression as he talked about his mistresses in front of Mikasa. Armin couldn’t take it. Gathered at a marble table beside all the Olympians, he scowled and told them how stupid they all were.

“Don’t you realise? You’re all wasting your immortality by being so idiotic, so fickle! Everything you touch becomes a temporary pleasure, ruined by your inability to act like real gods.”

He should have stopped; he really should have stopped. But the crack in the glass bridge had been there for years, and now the shards of glass were dropping down into the sea. “You might as well be human!”

The room went silent. Eyes went wide, and mouths gaped, but the gods opted for silence. Every deity wanted to speak up, maybe even draw their swords, but they were more intelligent than Armin was in that moment, which was more unusual than one might think. He had never snapped so violently before. Armin may have been aggressive, but he knew his place. Knew when to be docile. Now, he felt like he could crumble Olympus itself with his rage and bury the Olympians with their dead parents.

The king of the gods, however, leaned forward. His emerald eyes were unmoving, devoid of emotion though his lips tilted into a monstrous grin.

“You’re just as fickle as the rest of us, brother,” was all Eren said.

When Armin lunged at him, knocking the fine glass off the table, it was Mikasa who pinned him down. Arms locked behind his back, all Armin could do was watch as mirth flooded Eren’s face, and the god of the sky laughed. The bastard laughed and laughed and licked the small wound on his hand from a shard of glass. It healed immediately. Even their pain was temporary.

And like he had been doing for the past millennia, Armin found solice in his only rule: if he couldn’t take out his rage on his brother, Armin would take out his frustration elsewhere.

His first instinct was to find a woman, but the thought of seeking out temporary pleasure, from a mistress no less, reminded him too much of Eren. So, he descended to earth, trident in one hand as the other gripped the reigns of his horse and they rode for three days and three nights. That’s all it took for the god of the sea to find what he was looking for- someone deserving of his hatred.

There are many humans like the merchant. But most of their hatred is silent. And when it’s not, blasphemy often falls upon deaf ears. The merchant just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time when his drunk rambles led him up on the deck screaming out Armin’s name like it was venom in his throat, until he could scream no more. He was drunk, but the merchant’s hatred for the god of the sea did not cease when he was sober.

And when Armin heard his name, the god wasted no time calling forth a storm to sink the merchant’s ship. He took care to ensure that the arrogant man watched each and every one of his men be swallowed whole, their bodies only resurfacing lifeless, before the storm calmed.

It took five days for the merchant to swim back to his island.

He never returned to the sea.

As the weeks passed, he relocated his home to help him stay away from any body of water and made sure that his family followed suit.

But Armin followed, and the merchant’s father died weeks later with saltwater water found in his lungs.  

Unfortunately, that was not enough to sedate the god of the sea’s need for vengeance. Fortunately, it was not enough to sedate the merchant’s hatred either. The hubris didn’t leave him. Instead, it just grew and grew and grew until the merchant considered himself more of a god than Armin would ever be.

“Oh, oh.” Armin couldn’t help but smile as he watched the man urinate before his temple. “This is perfect, so perfect.”

Armin was going to show his uncaring brother how different he was from the rest of the miserable Olympians. As he stood above the island of Paradis, golden hair blowing in the ocean wind, the god vowed to begin his Odyssey. An eternal Odyssey. A journey that would last longer than the ten fleeting years he had with the Greek hero- a journey that would last longer than the universe itself.

And he knew exactly where to begin. A man’s most valuable possession: his child.

It was only after your grandfather’s death that Armin noticed you. When he first began watching the merchant’s household, under the guise of either a guest or a bird, he had been surprised to learn that the blasphemous man had no wife, nor children. Armin only realised his mistake one night, when you came to lay a blanket on the drunk man’s barely conscious body. The merchant had pulled you towards him, muttering apologies and you had wrinkled your nose before offering him a soft smile. “It’s okay, papa”.

A daughter sheltered from the world, it seemed.

The god had initially thought you were one of the servants. There were only two in the house, and your tasks were all similar. But as Armin began to watch you closer, he saw how you did have a life outside your home with friends, interests, men- a life your father was blissfully unaware of.

The merchant hardly left home- playing the part of the sick man- and you took care of him- playing the part of your dead mother- in a happy sort of agreement.

You didn’t speak about it to your friends, but you detested your doting role. Armin could tell. The way you wrinkled your nose every time your father walked through the door, the eye-roll when you were given a load of laundry. The god couldn’t help by laugh at how pathetic the merchant was that not even his only daughter- his lifeline- cared for him. The merchant didn’t know, of course. Your fake smiles and gentle hands were enough to deceive him, keep him sane. But Armin was going to break that pattern.

The merchant didn’t deserve the care of a woman. He didn’t deserve anything. So, Armin was going to take you away from him.

His initial plan was to kill you. Simple, efficient, quick. And then he thought of dumping your body somewhere far so that the search for you would break your father’s spirit even more. He hesitated, though, he wasn’t sure why, but he did. And then, you changed your routine.

After meeting up with the two individuals you called your friends at the Sunday market- instead of going back home- you carried on walking. Through the houses on the outskirts and into the dense trees, you almost stung your sandal-clad feet twice before reaching a river. The river had no god of itself, but you still threw in an offering and muttered. Stupid human. And then you sat beside the river and- nothing. Your routine was boring, obviously a ritual to let you escape from reality. Yet, he couldn’t tear away from you. The woman at the river Shiganshina was a different one than the woman who served her father. The one here relaxed her shoulders, cursed at the world around her, smiled- albeit randomly but it was real. He decided there that he would kill you tomorrow.

But when, the next day, you led him back to the river, Armin was lost in you again. Lost in your honestly, lost in your need to escape. He wanted to see more, he needed to see more. Metaphorically, of course. But when you began undressing, the pleated robes dropping to reveal soft skin and tender curves, the god of the sea realised that he wouldn’t mind literally seeing more of you. Armin had been with goddesses and nymphs and, hell, even Aphrodite herself, but never had he been this awestruck. He had to hold himself back. Even though the way you were bathing made it seem like you were worshipping him, water dripping from your body, wet hair hiding the swell of your breasts. Armin’s breath stuttered. He couldn’t reveal himself. He couldn’t.

So, he watched, and watched. Trying desperately to take in everything you were from a distance. Armin didn’t count the number of times he visited you before finally decided that killing you was no longer an option. He told himself that his change of mind was progressive. A practical choice to draw out his revenge into the most painful and convoluted Odyssey. To do that, he couldn’t kill you. No. He was going to take you for himself. Armin was going to turn the daughter of the merchant into a servant of the one God he detested.

Putting the thought into your mind was pathetically easy. As you walked past his temple on your way home, an echo of laughter emerged from the marble building. You paused for only a moment, but it was enough for Armin to catch the look in your eyes. It was one of longing, mixed with a curiosity that threatened to pull you in. But you seemed to catch yourself in the act and hastened yourself home.

And so, Armin’s true Odyssey began. 

For his journey to progress, he had to meet you. Not as a bird or a horse or through glances as a guest. He had to meet you properly. This was the only way to draw you in, he told himself. The only way for you to submit completely and willingly.

Armin could have forced you too your knees, but he had to ensure that your father watched has his daughter chose Armin over him. And chose Armin you would. Every piece was in perfect place. The fates seemed to have woven a beautiful cloth of gold for the god of the sea.

What he failed to realise was that the cloth was in fact a snare- a trap which he will never be able to escape from.

Eleven months ago:

A short gust of wind had the pears in your thin basket tumbling down onto the rocky ground. You rushed after the fruit, crouching down to pick it up when a shadow appeared, and a hand reached out to pick it up for you. The sandal-clad feet were pale- paler than anyone living on this warm island and the robes a fine, ironed white. He somehow seemed to glow brighter than his clothes, and you purposefully let your fingers graze his as you picked up the fruit.

“Thank you,” you said, standing up.

You were hoping that he wouldn’t catch your staring. But even if he did, you couldn’t tear your eyes off him. He was lean, taller than you but not intimidatingly so and his eyes were like oceans that you found yourself staring into as he introduced himself as Mr Arlert. Just Mr Arlert. The new owner of the stables with a voice so soft, it took a moment before you remembered to introduce yourself.

“Y/N. And thank you, again.” It isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to be talking to a man on her own, but you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you have a first name Mr Arlert?”

His smile was contagious. “I do. But names are a powerful thing. I’m afraid I can’t give mine up freely.”

“Oh.” You scrunched your nose. “Can I pay for it then?”

You were dead serious, but the blond man laughed. How can someone look so pretty when they laugh? You wondered.

“I’m serious! I can pay you; name your price.”

Mr Arlert looked down at you, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll think about it.”

“So, is that a no?”

“It’s a no, for now. One day I’ll tell you my name.”

He was sweet, so sweet, but you still gave him a sceptical frown, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing. Mr Arlert in turn gave you a sorry look before his eyes lit up and he pulled out from his brown satchel a small book of yellowed pages and a dusty blue cover, the gold embossing hardly visible. You nose only scrunched further.

“My name is in this story. It’s mentioned few times, but it’s an important one,” he said to you.

You took the book and flipped through the worn pages, immediately recognising the tale of Aphrodite and Ares. The lovers.

Why the challenge? You wanted to ask Mr Arlert but you knew the answer you your get would be too cryptic. Besides, you think, I like a challenge.

“How long do I have?” You asked instead.

“A year and a day.”

“And what will I get if I figure it out?”

At this, he pondered. But it seemed feigned, and you wondered, just for a split second, if the man had planned this from the beginning. But why? This was another one of your questions that went unanswered that day. Because before you could say anything more, Mr Arlert leaned forward and said, “Your reward will be divine”. And he walked away.

Nine months ago:

Life was well after Armin arrived. There was no other way to put it. Your father was confining himself to his room more often than before, and you were finding more opportunities to visit the river, leave the house and, eventually, you met the handsome baker’s son. Jean was kind, a gentleman, but not the arrogant type like most the men your age. You didn’t even feel too much guilt when you thought that spending a future with Jean- taking care of him and his home- wouldn’t be too bad. It’s quite pathetic that your life had been reduced to not being “too bad”, but the idea of marrying Jean sat on the comfortable line between reality and fantasy. Safety.

And then you were visited at the river.

Mr Arlert wasn’t even surprised to find you there, he had just smiled and sat beside you as you clenched your fists and forced yourself to smile back at him. You had always enjoyed him, his company, his challenges, but now it was like he was provoking you. The river Shiganshina was your river, your special place away from the hellscape that was the town. And now Mr Arlert had brought himself and his ordinary life into it.

You pulled your sandals back on, the crease in your brow evident. He clearly couldn’t get the hint. But before you could stand up, he spoke, and you paused.

“I wish I could jump in and swim away,” he said.

Curiosity got the best of you, as it often did with the man.

“The waterfall would kill you.”

The awkward laugh again. It had an effect on you so that your jaw couldn’t help but unclench. “If it means that I get to touch a waterfall, I wouldn’t mind, you know?”

You knew. You knew exactly what he meant. But you didn’t tell him.

“Didn’t take you as the suicidal type,” you said.

“I might get saved, who knows.”

“If you’re counting on me to jump after you, I’m letting you know I won’t.”

“I know,” he laughed. “I was thinking of more of a divine rescue.”

You finally looked at him, and- unsurprisingly- his blue eyes were glued to yours. What was surprising was his unwavering tone, his straight face. Mr Arlert was being serious. Why was he opening up to you this suddenly? So far, your interactions had consisted of him staring, you trying to guess his name, and him continuing to stare. In that order. You knew there was more to him, but it’s only now that you found yourself wanting to seek that out.

“You think Armin would save you?” You didn’t miss Arlert’s smile.

“I’m hoping I’ve gained his favour- done enough for him to allow me freedom via waterfall.”

It was your turn to smile. “You probably have, You’re at the temple often.”

“Thank you.” He blushed and you quickly pushed down the thought of how cute he looked. Sitting beside you, trousers rolled up and feet in the water, Mr Arlert looked more than cute. He looked like he belonged. You weren’t sure how that made you feel but, in that moment, you didn’t mind him entering your world.

“I think you would also be saved if you jumped into the waterfall,” Mr Arlert said.

You laughed. “Is that your way of saying I’m a nice person?”

“Something like that.” He paused. “I think Armin would appreciate your- uh- honesty. You’re like a priestess.” He laughs nervously at your expression. “You know, they have this personal affinity with the water and such.”

You knew exactly what he meant. How a stranger could read you so perfectly, you weren’t sure. But as you hid your smile between your hands, you wondered whether you were prepared to face the fear of the unknown. Maybe, with Mr Arlert, it would be a bit less unknown.

A few days later, Jean was announced missing. A search party was sent out and even Mr Arlert, on his recently acquired brown horse, couldn’t find him.

Present day:

Armin isn’t sure if he likes playing the part of the nice boy or not. Humans are simple creatures who praise him continuously and, without divine responsibilities, there is no need to take his rage out anywhere. But a god is who he is, and every day, he yearns to be seen as one. To be seen as one by you. He watches as you worship him, but you never look at him- not like you do the statues, or even the small river which you think is your only true connection to the god of the ocean.

You both want more, and you both know that, but you only ever admit it to each other when you sit beside that very river. There, in those moments, Armin feels a bit more like a god. Whenever he’s around you, he feels a bit more like a god.  

He’s told you before, but your perfect honesty has made it easy for him to unravel around you. He wants to unravel around you in other ways, too, and he wants you to unravel around him. Armin can’t count the number of times he’s sat beside you at the riverside and wanted to do nothing more than to kiss those lips of yours, to press the hard cock that he hides inside of you and watch as your eyes roll back, and you call out his name.  

But the God of the Sea is not Eren. Armin will earn you. And he’s very close to doing so. Not Mr Arlert. You have no interest in human men, that much is clear. You yearn for something more powerful. And you’re right. Only a god is worthy enough to stand beside you, lay between your legs, be in your arms. Mr Arlert is simply a means to push you to realising that the god in question is Armin.

In the meantime, he’s been nothing but patient.

It’s only when you come to his door one night, eyes puffy and red, that he lays his hands on you for the first time. He rubs your back as you cry and cry, fat tears refusing stop falling. You tell him about bout your father. About how, since he got better, he’s been refusing to let you out of the house, snapping at every moment and accusing you of being a filthy god-worshipper.

“He s-sai-d- he said we’re ‘gonna move away- said we’re gonna get as far away from the s-sea as possible.” You can hardly speak, though the tears have stopped, your voice still shakes violently. But Armin listens, he holds you close to him and repeats that everything is going to be fine.

You can’t stop thanking him as you leave, and he promises that his door is always open for you. “Whenever you call for me, I’m here,” Armin tells you. “Right beside you, always,” he adds as he watches you walk away.

He’s reached a new chapter of this Odyssey.

Present day:

You suppose your father’s death should have been expected. He was an old man, obviously depressed, and his only lifeline was his daughter who hated him.

You also suppose you should feel guilty. You don’t.

Familiar faces give their condolences and whisper questions of what is to happen to you now. You only pay heed to Sasha and Connie, though, who give you a soft hug before Sasha tells you that her family would be happy to take you in. You reassure her and everyone else that you have a plan, though your best friends are the only ones who seem to believe you.

“I heard Marie has a son who’s single, maybe they can-“

“You’re not actually talking about marriage here are you?”

“Well, the girl is all alone in the world, now! She needs a man to lead her on the right path.”

The old women are wrong, so very wrong. You don’t need a man. You’re fucking sick of men- sick of them all- everything they’ve created and everything they stand for.

What you need is a god.

The head priestess of Armin’s temple in unsurprised when you knock on her door with nothing but a bag and the clothes on your body. Those clothes are burned soon after, along with many of your other things, leaving your old life behind.

She tells you that you’re lucky there’s a place for you. The last priestess left running off with a man, “Which is a cardinal sin”, she makes sure to repeat every-so-often. The head priestess seems to hate men more than you do, sneering whenever Connie comes by.

Sasha and Connie are unsurprisingly shocked at your choice of work and even if they visit almost every day, they always tell you that they miss you. They think you’ve come the temple out of desperation- everyone does- and you let them believe. Because despite cleaning the marble floors or whatever other arduous duty you’ve been given, a smile is never far as you realise that you’re free from man. Indeed, explaining the truth to anyone would be far too difficult.

Well, except one person.

You’ve never missed anyone before. Not with your father keeping you so sheltered for most of your life. But as you push through the Head Priestess’ relentless schedule, you can’t help but miss Mr Arlert. He disappears after your father’s funeral, so you leave him a note at the empty stable with your final guess. You like to think he decided to follow his own path, you also like to think that he too wishes you were beside him, a guide in the unknown.

Present day:

The room is a box of marble, with a throne sat upon a dais at the centre and one fountain at every corner, each one sculped into a horse. The object of your interests, however, is the large bowl of water on the floor in front of the throne.

This is your initiation. You will emerge from this room not as an apprentice, but a Priestess.

You kneel down and lift the pot of clay to your lips. The head priestess kept on repeating how important it is to not put it down until you’re finished. So, you gulp the water down until you can see the image of Armin. You’re the one who selected the pot, with its faded paint depicting Armin and Hange’s fight for patronage of Sina. It’s a powerful image, but when you put the pot down, you come face to face with something very different. Armin is standing in a room-this room, you realise- and crouched down before him is a young woman, looking up in awe. It takes bit longer of a moment for you to realise that the woman is you.

Looking up slowly from the pot, the first thing you see is sandal-clad feet. Golden sandals, just as fine as the robes he wears, draped in perfect waves. The first word you think of to describe him is divine and it’s indeed accurate because-

“Mr Arlert.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

But you know that’s not correct. The man- no, not a man- before you is taller than Mr Arlert, by a foot and a half at least. His muscles are more prominent that the stable boy’s ever were, strong legs visible through the large slit between the layers of fabric draped over the god’s figure. Half of his shoulder-length hair is tied back using a golden pin whilst the rest frames his perfect, perfect face. You can’t help but think that Armin looks nothing like his statues- no medium of art could capture the ocean within his eyes, glowing in the dull light of the room. Then again, the stories didn’t capture the way the god acts either.

“Armin,” you say, this time your voice louder.

Now, you know.

His sad smile is familiar, but there’s something there that never was. “Oh dear,” he says. “I’m afraid you’ve lost out wager.”

Armin can’t help but compare you to a puppy, with large eyes staring up at him from your crouched position and an expression a perfect mix of excitement, curiosity, and shock.

You reach out a hand tentatively, but it hovers in the air between the two of you once you notice Armin’s raised brow. But he doesn’t rebuke you for it. After all, it’s only your first encounter with the god. He can’t expect you to behave perfectly, to adopt the right etiquette- no, he’ll have to train you first. Like he would a baby mutt. The thought makes him smile.

“I’ll accept any consequences, my god,” you say. Your voice sounds so sure of itself, so unlike your usual ramblings, those that Armin could and would listen to for hours. Right now, though, the certainty, it’s laced with desire that sends blood rushing south. You don’t notice. You’re too lost in his eyes to notice anything.

When he places his hand on your chin to hold it up, he can feel you shiver. “Such a perfect little worshipper,” he says. “I couldn’t possibly punish you.”

Armin can swear he sees disappointment in your eyes before he turns around and walks up the dais. The marble of the throne is cold beneath him, but the sight of you looking up at him with such longing is enough to warm him up. Now, Armin is sure you’ve noticed his growing erection because you crawl towards the dais, not yet climbing it, but close enough to see and lick your lips.

“Let me thank you at least, Armin.” He almost groans at the sound of his name. God, he wants to hear you say it over and over.

“Come here.”

And you climb up the dais only to pause before Armin leans forward and grabs your hips. Two lips, as if led by an invisible string, meet. You kiss like you’ve been waiting years for Armin and, in a way, you have. His tongue is inside your mouth quickly and he’s kissing, sucking, letting his teeth gently graze your lips as he revels in the feeling of you. As your bodies lean against each other, you can feel his heart hammering against your own. His chest is stone, but his lips are so soft and your hands find his golden hair. It’s also softer than it looks, and Armin can’t help but let out a moan as you gently tug.

When you pull back, his pupils are blown. “Thank me, then,” Armin says, breathless.

Sitting between his legs, your hand is tiny compared to his cock, and you can’t stop staring at it. Long and somewhat slender, but veiny with a flushed red top- he can see you gulp before you take an experimental lick at him. Armin’s hold on your hair only tightens and you look up at him, doe eyed and seemingly innocent.

“Put it in your mouth, pretty girl,” he says, guiding your head gently. “So obedient- Yes, exactly, just like-ah- just like that.”

But he doesn’t need to push down- no- he lets you set your own pace only because you do it so perfectly, almost as perfect as the wet noises you make. Armin doesn’t have time to be surprised, he’s just able to react fast enough to suppress his own moans so he can hear your wet tongue caress the base of his cock, as your lips create the perfect o-shape to accommodate him. Your drool is everywhere in a matter of seconds- his balls are coated with it, and so is your lap, where the spit seeps through the thin white fabric you call a robe.

“Like a puppy,” he murmurs. And you look up quizzically. “You’re drooling over me like a desperate puppy- a puppy in heat,” he grunts. “You just want to please me, don’t you? ‘S alright, puppy, I’ll let you do that.”

If you could nod your head, you would. Instead, your cheeks burn, and Armin is so lost in the way that you look- not even able to take his entire cock in his mouth- that his hips begin to buck unconsciously. He hits the back of your throat, and you gag at the sudden impact, but he hisses and murmurs “What a good, wet hole. So good, good-”

The earthshaker is afraid that if he speaks any louder, his voice will slur into incomprehensible sultry sounds. But as you struggle to take his cock even deeper into his mouth, he lets out groans that go straight between your own legs. You moan around him, and the reverberations make his head roll back. God, you could stare at him forever. And he would let you.

“Look at me,” he says whenever your eyes go astray. “Look at your god.”

As his hips buck more violently, Armin can feel the pressure in his lower stomach, the impending orgasm and he wants to stop- wants to hold out the way he always has. But he can’t, it’s too much and he just cannot pull out of you. He simply pushes further and further into your tight throat, repeating your name like it’s a blessing. “fuck, puppy, ‘m going to- I’m going to cum down your throat. You want that, do you you’re your god’s cum- ah, fuck, ahhh”-

Pushing your head down to the base, both of his hands at the back of your head, Armin cries out you name and you can feel the warm liquid go down your throat, thick ropes filling up your mouth, some of it dribbling out. Armin reflexively pushes it back in your mouth, ordering you to swallow it all, to show how grateful you are. Of course, you oblige. But before you can even regain your breath, Armin suddenly pulls you off his cock. His pupils are dilated, and he wears an expression- anger? Shock?

“You’re not a virgin,” he hisses, teeth gritting against each other. His breath is frantic, uneven. It’s not a question and you begin to recognise his expression. Rage. “You’ve done this before.”

Fuck.

The God of the sea has his fair share of consorts and mistresses. Some of them virgins- though he never chases them the way Eren does- some of them not, but none have made him cum so fast. He would like to blame it on the year of pining, of restraint, but he knows better. It’s you. You do this him. You make him so wild, so willing, so pliant even. 

In that moment, as he looks your worried face, so desperate to please, he thinks that he’ll never be able to let it go. You’ve consumed Armin and he wants to do nothing more than burn eternally. You must understand that- that you exist as his beacon, that’s where you’ll be your happiest, but those thoughts are too complex for a human. You, in your fragile state, can’t understand. It’s alright, he’ll just have to show you bit by bit that you’re his. But to do so, he must first take on the role he’s familiar with. That of the punisher.

“Who is he?” Armin snaps.

“It was only-“

“Who is he?”

You pause. Memories of nights spent together, huddled close and trying to keep quiet already fading. “Berthrolt Hoover.”

Armin’s shoulders relax, “I see.”

His breathing slowly goes back to normal, and, at the back of your mind, you know you’ve signed the young warrior’s death. But your worry is fleeting as Armin grabs you by the neck and hoists you over his knees, laying you down on your stomach effortlessly. “A priestess who isn’t a virgin?”

You look up as see Armin’s familiar sweet smile, but it’s laced with mirth that makes you forget the Mr Arlert he was before. You cry out at the first slap of his hand on your ass, more out of surprise than pain.

“I don’t think the people of Paradis will be very happy to hear that,” he says. “An unmarried woman giving herself away to a pathetic boy.”

Slap!

“I’m sorry!” you cry out. “It was a mis-”

He slaps you thrice.

“No excuses, dumb little puppy. I’m afraid you’ll have to endure this punishment.” His voice is deceptively soft, as if he is actually sorry. And when you look back up at Armin, his face betrays no malice. But it doesn’t show any cruelty either. Instead, there’s a fascination.

Armin has you sprawled across his lap, at his mercy and he is discovering you bit by bit. As a god. His cock twitches and then suddenly he tugs off the fabric of your robes and they disappear.

The way you squirm is half- hearted, and Armin has to laugh. “Embarrassed? Now of all times? I didn’t know you were such a prude. Or is this all just to compensate for the fact that you’re a whore in my temple?”

You shake your head, “I swear, I’ve never belonged to any man!”

Fingers trace the expanse of your naked body, soft enough to send shivers down your spine. “Oh? Really?”

“Yes yes, I swear, ah!” His fingers find your naked ass and they grab onto the flesh, massaging, groping, feeling you. Armin’s other hand rests on top of your head, stroking it gently and you’re so lost in his touch that you almost forget to speak.

“I belong to no man, I never have. Only you. It’s always been you, Armin.”

The god’s eyes widen, and he gently pulls you up from his lap only to seat you on it, upright and, this time, there’s so much more to admire. “You’re right,” he says. Armin captures your lips and this time, it’s longer, rougher. He doesn’t want to pull back, doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your soft lips against his, but his hands have already found your breasts and soon, his tongue joins them. You moan as he begins to lap at your breasts, leaving hickeys and spit in his wake as his finally finds your nipples and begins sucking them like a child as you whine and lean into him.

“You do belong to me,” he finally says, his voice partially muffled as he loses himself in the worship your breasts. “You’ve always belonged to me.”

And you can do nothing more than nod your head as your fingers tangle in Armin’s hair and you’re pulled into another kiss. His hand goes down your body, squeezing every single mound of flesh as if it needs to be touched so that when he finds your cunt, Armin can’t help but smile at how wet you are.

“Already, but I’ve hardly done anything to you?”

What a liar, but you don’t have a chance to tell him before he plunges a finger inside of you. “Oh, puppy, my puppy,” he groans at the contact the same time you moan, pushing your hips against his digits. “You like my fingers like that inside of you?”

“Yes, yes, I do, I really love them- it feels, oh my god, it feels too good!” you grip his shoulders, unable to do anything but desperately buck your hips at the smiling Armin. He knows what he’s doing, he knows that his fingers are giving you just that satisfaction, but it’s still not enough to bring you over the edge.

“Please Armin, please.” You squeeze his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, tell me, I’ll give it to you- I swear.”

“I want to feel you, all- ah- all of you. I need to feel you inside of me!”

You’re not sure at which moment Armin removes his robes, but as he moves both of your legs so that you’re straddling him, your hands are on his bare, lean chest. The god’s nipples are flushed pink and pert, practically calling to you and you respond by brushing your fingers over them and watching him twitch ever-so-slightly in response. You withhold the urge to take them into your mouth, even as Armin rubs his cock against your cunt, releasing the sweetest of sounds.

He’s already leaking precum and it mixes with your juices so perfectly, his cock being dragged back and forth, only making you gush even more. “So messy,” he mumbles as he uses his tip to spreads your juices across your thighs. At this point, you can practically feel it throbbing, ready to be sheathed inside of you and the whimpers of your desperation echo against the temple walls.

When Armin slips inside of you, simultaneous gasps escape your lips. The god pulls your body closer to his as you throw your head back, stars in your eyes.

“Look,” he whispers. “Look how easily I slip in- it’s- it’s like your cunt is made for me.”

“Armin,” you whisper back. “Armin, Armin- ah- Armin.”

He sinks you down slowly, the stretch hitting every single spot that leaves your legs practically limp. The god is holding you up, whispering his own mantra that you can’t hear over your bliss. Once inside, your eyes look lock with Armin’s and he’s staring at you in a way he’s never done before. You’ve never seen pupils so dilated and the two of you stay like that as if making up for the moments when you should have been connected in this way. An eternity, it seems, the two of you have needed each other.

“I’m your god,” Armin finally says. “I’m your god and- hng ah-” He begins moving you up and down his shaft. “And I’m going to make you cum all over this cock- okay? All over your god’s cock.”

You nod your head pathetically as he lifts your hips and slams them down against his own. He is strong, ruthless in the way he bucks his hips up every time he lifts you from his cock, as if he can’t bare the empty feeling of not having your tight pussy clamped around him. At this relentless pace, you’re sure that the sound of your connecting bodies could penetrate even these marble walls. And yet, you don’t hold back. Thanks and praises spill from your swollen lips and Armin can’t help but lean forward and push his tongue between your mouth, as if he can absorb all of your word. “So good, so good, it’s- uah- I just want more, more of your cock, you fill me up so good!”

Armin can’t deny you. He pushes your thighs to your chest and picks up your entire body to fuck himself. He manoeuvres your body like a toy and as your tongue rolls out and your eyes become glassy, you begin to look like one too. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are incomprehensible, even as Armin attaches his mouth to one of your bouncing tits, you can only squeal.

“Such a good puppy,” he says between kisses. “Letting me use her holes like this. A god using a puppy’s holes- you should be- you should be grateful! Tell me, tell me you’re grateful!”

“I am!” you cry out. “I am grateful!”

“Good girl, good puppygirl.”

When Armin flips you over, you’re sat on his throne and he fucks into you harder, harder than he was doing before, and you swear his moans are louder too. He’s looking down at the movement of your stomach as if hypnotized by the way his cock disappears into you. And, in a way, he is. The fascination of being inside of you- just the idea even- is enough to make him want to cum.

The sudden position has him hitting new spots and the build-up is so fast, you hardly have the time to warn him. “Armin, Armin I’m cum-“

He grabs your face as you release around his cock, body spasming but unable to look away as Armin’s gaze burns through you. “Good girl,” he says. “Show me, show me how you cum. Just like that, just like that.”

He continues to plough his hips into yours and the spasms of your pussy leave him unable to hold back. “Inside of you,” he practically growls. “I’m going to cum inside of you- yes, yes, yes I am puppy. I’m going to cum inside of you and you’re going to show me how you take it yeah?”

You’re too far gone to even register the implications of what he’s saying, but he buries his cock in your warm walls and releases his cum inside of you with a heavy groan. “Just like that, just like that- I’m going to fill you up with my seed, puppy, my puppy.”

Armin feels like he’s emptied his balls- two powerful orgasms which leave his legs shaking violently. And yet, he pulls out of you slowly and stands back up to his full height, cock in front of your face. Almost instinctively, you rub your cheek against it, giving Armin soft kitten licks and he coos at you, stroking your hair. But he doesn’t push, he just holds his cock there and pumps softly as he stares at your fucked out face. Messy, covered in his spit, his hickeys, his bites, his cum- you look perfect, divine. Only one thing is missing. “I’m going to give you everything I have, puppy. And you’re going to take it, okay?” You nod and open your mouth for him and, immediately, a strong stream of pee emerges.

At the bitter taste on your tongue, your eyes roll back, and you spread your legs even wider, a welcome to the mess he is about to make. Armin accepts and angles his cock to release his pee over your chest, then your stomach, and then your already-throbbing cunt. He lifts a foot to rest on the throne and Armin doesn’t think he’s even seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

As if guided by an implicit will, Armin’s foot hovers on top of you and suddenly, he presses against your lower stomach. Your eyes snap back into focus as you whine out for him to wait, wait just a moment “I just had water,” you cry out. “It’s gonna- It’s gonna come out!”

But Armin simply grins. “Let it come out,” he says and presses his foot down harder. “Pee yourself dumb little mutt, be a good puppy for your owner.” The trickle that emerges is involuntary, but Armin’s grin is wider. “Yes, good girl, just like that. Let me see more, let me see more of you.”

The pressure that was holding the bowl of water back broke and you felt the warm liquid against your thighs before you realise what’s happening. Armin practically moans as he watches you whimper and struggle to hold your pee back as it spreads over the throne, the dais, and even Armin himself. He doesn’t stop until you’ve given it all to him.

You expect Armin to disappear. 

You’ve given him everything. His goal is complete, you think, he has nothing more to do with you. But, as he has done many times before, the god surprises you. Armin’s body is heavy against yours when he collapses on top of you, but the weight is comforting. Despite the malaise of urine and cum rubbing against both of your bodies, you wrap your arms around the god of the ocean and hold him close. 

Even as you close your eyes and lean your head back on the marble throne, Armin doesn’t leave you. Even as you open your eyes back up and see blue ones staring back at you, the look he gives you is so familiar and long hair in such unfamiliar disarray that you can’t help but smile.

He doesn’t ask why. Instead, Armin calls forth a stream of warm water from the adjacent fountain to clean the both of you. It feels like a fever dream the way floating droplets caress your bodies, and when Armin stands you up, his hands not leaving you, the perfume that suddenly envelops you is heavenly.

“Can I give you a last kiss, please?” you ask when your robe appears once again. And Armin leans forward to capture your lips, dragging his tongue on your bottom lip as if to taste you.

It doesn’t feel like a final kiss. You’ve had many of them- Jean, Sasha, Berthrold, your father, and even your mother, though you can’t remember it. This kiss is different. It feels less like a kiss and more like a promise, a vow. a shiver runs down your spine. 

“I am your god,” he says and lifts his both of his hands slowly to wrap around your neck. “And you’re my worshipper.” You gasp as a cold sensation spreads around your neck, just below Armin’s fingers. It’s sudden, and heavy and when he removes his hands, yours fly to your neck and there’s a metal band there where there was none before.

“It’s sculpted from Hephaestus’ gold,” Armin says as he strokes his fingers along the metal. But he’s not looking at his gift, instead he looks at you. 

“Armin- I- this is. But why?”

For the first time, he can’t read your expression. But it doesn’t matter. You belong to him. You always have, but now you know. And if it takes time for you to understand, Armin can wait. He’ll wait right beside you, always, always there to guide you.

“This is not the end of my Odyssey. My Odyssey is eternal,” he says before giving you another short kiss and disappearing, the warmth of his lips still present.

The gods might not all be fickle, you think, so you just smile sadly. But the gods are all selfish, so you touch the collar around your neck.

A/N: This is my first ever collab and I was- as still am- a bit insecure about how this story turned out so I appreciate all of your support ❤️. I would also like to apologise to my fellow history nerds for the historical inaccuracies. 

[arahxdjarin]

Get Some Sleep

The Rebel and The Mandalorian, Chapter 1

Mando finds you with a bounty, he takes you back to Peli's hanger on Tatooine to help patch up your wounds. He ends up hiring you on as crew, but you have a past of your own that you're trying to run from. Will the two of you stay together despite the secrets?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word Count: 9k

Tags: canon type violence, injuries, talks about past abuse, f!masturbation, m!masturbation, Din needs a hug, Reader needs a hug too

Notes: Hi besties!!! I'm reworking one of my earliest fics, I deleted it because I realized how many errors there were and I wanted to rework the plot again. I know this chapter is wildly long but it's a lot of story building, back stories etc. The rest of the Chapters won't be this long! I hope you guys enjoy <3 ily all!! Also a big shout out to @r0-laren

Warning: This work is going to have talks about past torture that reader endured, she has been put through so shit.

Next Chapter

Mando finally caught wind of the bounty he was tasked with hunting. He didn’t think Tatooine had many places to hide but this bounty obviously has some kind of vast knowledge of Mos Eisley. He walks up to what looks like an abandoned building, it has multiple holes and burn marks from blasters and blunt force burned into the decaying exterior. He pushes the crumbling metal door open and watches as it all but disintegrates straight from the hinges.

The building looks empty to the naked eye, but his helmet is picking up two sets of footprints and two heat signatures. He heads deeper into the dark building, his fingers twitching over the blaster at his side. It's times like this he's grateful to have acquaintances like Peli. He doesn't want the kid to be anywhere near this vile, disgusting, wasteland. His foot hits a few empty glass bottles that litter the dust covered floor, they fall with a loud crash, causing him to cringe.

“Fuck” Mando whispers, if the residents of this shithole didn’t know he was there already, they definitely did now.

There’s movement from across the room, someone shuffles to their feet from behind a bar top with a grunt, pointing an old blaster directly at Mando. The empty bottles are obviously his, a bender from the previous day probably. He turns and shoots the man in the arm that’s holding the blaster and then again in the chest when the man hardly stumbles from the first shot.

Mando crosses the room, identifying the man as the bounty he’s supposed to bring in. Thankfully, the guild didn’t care if he was brought in dead or alive, they just needed him to be brought in. Mando kicks the man onto his side so he can cuff him and that’s when he notices you.

You lay unconscious right behind where the bounty had fallen, you're covered in bruises, dirt and dried blood, it's very obvious you've been beaten. Your hands are tied to a pole sticking out of the ground. Mando curses under his breath again, there's no way he'll be able to leave you here while you're hurt and helpless. He pulls the bounty up and ties a rope between the guys cuffs then Mando attaches it to his belt, he’ll have to drag the guy back to Peli’s.

Mando lifts you as gently as he can, slinging you over his shoulder and leaves the abandoned building to make his way back to Peli’s hanger. He arrives at the familiar location just before dawn. Mando sets you down onto the ground in front of the Razor Crest before opening the hull to put the bounty into a carbonite chamber.

When he comes back down the hull you’re beginning to regain consciousness, your body shaking, fighting to sit up.

“Where am I, who are you?” Your voice comes out shaky, he can tell how disoriented and frightened you are.

“You’re in a hanger on the other side of Mos Eisley.” Mando makes sure to stay a few steps away from you, even in this state, you seem feral and ready to strike given the chance.

“Where’s Kar at? Did he sell me to you?” There was venom dripping from every word, your face twisting into a deep frown.

“He’s frozen in carbonite, and no.” Mando cocks his head to the side, trying to figure why the dead man would sell you. You bring your injured arm to your face, wincing when you take in just how bad the damage is.

“You’re a bounty hunter? Good, hopefully that fucking bastard rots in jail, why did you take me though? You didn’t have to.” Your face contorts into a grimace, you start to wheeze in between words, He’s sure your injuries are causing you severe pain.

“Let me look at your wounds, they must be extensive, I have some bacta.” Mando walks back up the hull to grab the med kit. He must be right about your wounds because you don’t try to protest or run from him when he approaches with the bacta and med kit.

“Don’t waste your bacta on me, that shit is like gold. You said we’re in Mos Eisley? Kar must have had me drugged for a while. The last planet I remember is Corellia. Is he really going to jail?” Your voice breaks with your last question, Mando can’t tell if you’re excited or upset.

Mando kneels down to look at your injuries, you have a large burn that covers most of your upper right thigh, a nasty bruise that runs all the way across your abdomen and a large open wound on your left forearm as well as other small cuts and bruises scattered across your entire body. Mando frowns, you’re definitely going to need bacta to heal these properly. Why would you tell him to not waste it?

“I’m using the bacta, your wounds are bad. And he's dead, so probably not jail. Was he your boyfriend or something?” Mando can’t resist asking, he’s curious about you. You scoff loudly at his accusation.

“No, Kar kidnapped me about 3 years ago from Imperials. Once he realized I was a mechanic and a pilot he wouldn’t let me leave, the only reason I’m this beat up is because I tried to escape. I ripped the tracker out of my arm. He usually kept me pretty drugged unless he needed me to fix something, but on Corellia,” You pause to wince, your breath coming out really shallow. Mando gives you a second to rest before you continue. “I was coherent enough to take a knife to my arm and rip the tracker out. I was hoping I’d be able to escape on a freighter. Must have caught me, probably why he brought me to Tatooine. It’s the only place you can still purchase embedded tracking devices.” You close your eyes, your shoulders slumping a bit as he applies some bacta to the wound on your arm. Mando nods while he continues working on your larger wounds. You hiss when his hand touches your thigh to apply the bacta to the burn, but you immediately relax when the healing properties take effect.

He can't believe you're still alive after being a prisoner to someone for 3 years. He wants to ask why you were with Imperials but decides against saying anything. He instead works in silence to bandage your wounds. It seems like you’re tired of talking as well. You stay quiet as he continues wrapping cloth around the wound on your leg, you’re almost completely patched up when Mando hears the familiar voice of Peli.

“Mando, who is this? My hanger isn’t a med bay you know.” Mando looks over to the woman with wild hair who’s holding onto the child protectively. Her eyes move between Mando and you trying to access the threat level. It is a sight to see, you’re wearing old clothes that are ripped to shreds, your entire body covered in blood, dirt and old oil. While Mando kneels at your side wrapping your exposed thigh with bandages.

“She was with the bounty, I couldn't leave her to die.” Mando says, going back to wrapping your wound.

“Well make sure you finish up quickly.” Peli tries to hold onto the kid but he’s wiggling in her arms trying to get loose. Fighting to be put down to come over and check out the new person being introduced. Mando looks down at you and sees your eyes are trained on the kid too. He worries you may actually be a threat.

“Thank you for letting the Mandalorian patch up my wounds here, I promise I’ll be on my way shortly, I’m a mechanic as well and would be very upset if I saw this happening in my own hanger.” You peel your eyes off the kid to offer Peli a bright smile.

Peli smiles back at, realizing you aren’t dangerous, she always says she’s an excellent judge of character. She walks closer to Mando who just finished wrapping your thigh. Peli shoves the kid into his arms as he stands and then kneels down to help you up.

“You’re a mechanic? How’d you get yourself wrapped up with one of his bounties?” She points her thumb back to where Mando is standing. Peli steadies you with one of her arms under your elbow, helping you walk away from Mando and the kid. He tries to calm the kid down, the little womp rat is still trying to break loose, it seems like he wants to greet you.

You smile again, “A very long story, Peli.” You turn to look at Mando who’s now fighting to calm down the small green ball of energy. A battle he seems to be losing as the kid squirms in his arms so much he almost drops him.

“Thank you again, I’ll be on my way now.” You give them both a short nod before turning to walk away, you stumble and limp, holding your injured arm against the bruise on your stomach. Both Peli and Mando can hear you wheezing for air as you try to walk away.

“Wait, you said you’re a mechanic right? Well shiny here needs one, maybe he can hire you on as crew, I’m sure you don’t have many credits, probably isn’t safe for you to head back out there with nothing, plus you’re still injured.”  Peli calls after you. She puts her hands on her hips and smiles, shooting Mando a wink.

Mando stares at Peli, not believing she’d offer something like that, it isn't her place even if she is right about him needing a mechanic.

“Uh- my ship is pre-imperial, you’re probably too young to know how to work on it.” He says awkwardly. He’s angry Peli put him in this situation. She’s right about needing a mechanic and you’re definitely too injured to venture out on your own but he never hired crews. He always does everything on his own.

You roll your eyes at him, “I can assure you I am well versed in pre-imperial machinery, especially ships. Thank you Peli for the offer, but I don’t think the Mandalorian would appreciate me taking an offer that wasn’t yours to give.” You lean against the wall of the hanger, obviously trying to support your weight off your bad leg. Mando frowns under the helmet and lets out a defeated sigh.

“Peli is right, I could use a mechanic and a pilot, we leave in 20 minutes.” Mando turns to move up the hull of the Crest with the kid in tow. He hears Peli’s laugh in the distance as he grumbles to himself.

****

You’re sitting in the co-pilot chair in the cockpit of the Crest fiddling with the jumpsuit Peli generously let you have to replace your horribly torn up clothes. You didn’t want to take the Mandalorian up on his offer but you needed to get off Tatooine, and he offered you 8% of his earnings from here until he returns to the guild to drop off his bounties just for keeping his ship in order. From what he said there were still 3 bounties to hunt.

The Mandalorian and you have been sitting in silence for a couple hours, the small green child is asleep in a floating pram next to the pilot’s chair. You didn’t want to break the nice silence but you had questions.

“So is the kid your son?” You ask, turning your head slightly to gauge whether the question you asked was too personal.

The Mandalorian sighs, “No, he’s my foundling, I’m trying to find his people.” The Mandalorian turns in his seat, you nod your head as he looks at you.

“Should I keep calling you the Mandalorian? Do you and the kid have names?” The Mandalorian pauses before answering. “You can call me Mando, it's not my name but it is what everyone calls me, as for the kid I have no idea, if you haven’t noticed he doesn’t speak much.” You let out a small laugh at that and turn your head to watch the planets and stars whip by you in blurred lines. Mando and you fall back into silence and it’s him who breaks the silence this time.

“Why were you with Imps?” You laugh, but turn it into a cough when you see Mando’s shoulders tense up.

“An even longer story than the Kar one, I was part of the Rebellion. A pilot, I was taken prisoner by them. They kept me prisoner until Kar kidnapped me.” You turn back to look at Mando, he’s looking at you and his entire upper body is turned to face you. He doesn’t say anything, just nods and turns back around. You didn’t tell him the entire story but he doesn’t need to know that. He stands up quickly after another short silence.

“I’m going to go rest, you should try too. There’s probably an extra blanket with the med kits, next planet we stop on I can get you some supplies.” He leaves the cockpit pit and takes the child with him. You sigh, and get up gently. Your body is still sore from your injuries, even breathing has proven to be difficult.

Instead of resting you decide to look over the control panels and learn some of the codes for the Razor Crest, you weren’t lying when you told Mando you knew a lot about pre-Imperial machinery. You just haven’t been around any for a couple years. You’re elbow deep in a control panel fixing some frayed wires when gloved hands pull you up by your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Mando asks, his modulated voice fills with irritation. His fingers dig into your shoulders. You wince from the strong grip he has on them. You frown at him, both from pain and confusion.

“I was doing what you hired me to do, the wires in this control panel are frayed and dangerous, I was cleaning them up, I’m sorry?” You say the last part as a question because you aren’t entirely sure why he is upset. Mando sighs and loosens his grip on your shoulders. His warm hands cover your shoulders for another moment before he finally drops his hands back at his sides.

“You’re hurt, you need rest.” His voice still sounds angry, you don't really think he’s upset that you aren’t resting, it seems like he’s upset because you’re touching his ship. Which is something he’ll have to get used to, since he hired you to be the ship's mechanic.

“I don’t really sleep, once you’ve been a prisoner for as long as I have, you kind of just learn to stay alert.” You put your hand on your hip and look up at him, he’s still wearing his armor. It doesn’t look like he was resting either.

“You aren’t a prisoner anymore, you don’t have to be alert all the time.” He thrusts a blanket into your arms and turns to climb down the ladder. He looks back at you, “Get some rest, we’ll be at our next destination in a few hours.” And with that he disappears down the ladder.

“Easier said than done.” You mumble under your breath taking the blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders. You usually didn’t sleep, it wasn’t just because you were a prisoner though, you’re just cursed by nightmares whenever your eyes closed. You try to take his advice though, even if you just rest your body.

You lean back against the chair, your body immediately relaxing into it. Your eyes flutter close and you breathe in the scent of the blanket. It doesn’t smell like a med kit blanket. It’s more homey than that, like old leather and some kind of spice. It smells like someone’s personal blanket, realizing that this must be the blanket Mando sleeps with. It makes you feel warm and safe, helping you fall into restless sleep.

The second you fall unconscious your own screams of terror fill your brain. The soft hum of a lightsaber near your sweat covered body makes your dream self cringe. The pain of the torture, searing your skin as if you're still strapped to the table.

You wake with a start, breathing erratically, and covered in sweat. The second you shoot up, an all too familiar and uncomfortable pain starts to ache in your abdomen where your bruises are. You groan into your hands and curse the Mandalorian. This is why you don’t sleep, nightmares. Nightmares of the man with the red lightsaber, torturing you to give in to the evil you swore to eliminate. You stand and let the blanket fall from your shoulders. You aren’t sure how long you slept for but you're guessing it couldn’t have been long since the ship is still quiet.

You go down the ladder that leads out of the cockpit and into the rest of the ship. Wanting to explore the hull of the Crest, you notice a few blast doors and assume one of them has to be the refresher, you take a guess, and open the door further to your left. It wasn’t the refresher, it’s the armory, the room is half the size of the cockpit and filled with weapons. You quickly close the door, not wanting to be found in front of Mando’s armory thinking back to how he reacted to you fixing simple wires. The next door you tried was the correct one, the refresher’s door opens to a small room, smaller than the armory. It has exactly what you’re in need of though, a shower.

You close the refresher door and immediately strip out of your jumpsuit, your hand lingering on the old healed scars that paint your sternum and abdomen. You let your hands roam to your fresh wounds and quickly unwrap the bandages and get into the shower. Not wanting to dwell on how disformed your body must look with the new scars covering your body.

The water is weak and slightly cold but it still feels amazing against your skin. Kar rarely ever afforded you the luxury to an actual shower. You sit under the water for a while before actually washing yourself, you just want to enjoy the feeling of water against your body. You find a simple soap bar, it’s probably Mando’s. You aren’t sure how he’ll feel about you sharing a soap bar with him but at the moment you don’t care. You just want to rid your body and hair of the dirt, blood and grime from the previous weeks. You end your shower after washing yourself off, not wanting the noise to wake Mando or the child up. You get out of the shower and decide to air dry. You look back down at the wounds on your leg and forearm, both are healing quickly thanks to the bacta that Mando applied. One or two more applications and your skin will almost be as good as new.

Your fingers find the bruise that's on your abdomen and you lightly touching it. Your mind goes to Kar kicking it repeatedly for ripping the tracker out of your arm, you’re grateful Mando found you before he could put another one in. You put your jumpsuit back on and leave the fresher only to run into the wall of armor that is Mando. You let out a groan as you bounce off him and back into the door of the refresher. He grabs your arms gently and helps you steady yourself.

“I need to redress your wounds.” Is all he says before letting you go and walking to the med kits on the wall. You sit on a crate and unzip your jumpsuit to show the wound on your thigh, grateful that you still have some kind of under clothing on to cover your crotch. Mando walks back to you with the supplies, if he was surprised to see the bare skin of your thighs he doesn’t show it. He kneels in front of you again and gently pulls up the sleeve on your left arm, he applies more bacta and wraps it up in the same kind of cloth bandaging as before. He works quickly, moving onto your thigh to do the same thing.

“How did he burn you?” Mando asks, as he focuses on applying a generous amount of bacta to your thigh. The question was simple but you still hesitate before answering.

“Kar would shoot his blaster a bunch and then put the hot barrel onto my skin, he did it whenever he got too drunk, I’m assuming he was drunk the night you killed him.” Mando tenses at your answer, his hands balling into fists around the cloth bandage he holds. You want to soothe him, tell him you’re ok but in reality it’s a pretty fucked up thing to do to a person. Especially considering you weren’t conscious the night Mando rescued you. Mando continues to work in silence cleaning and redressing your wound. He took his gloves off this time and you could see his large hands moving over your body as he worked, the muscles and veins moving under his tanned skin. It’s been so many years since you felt a touch so gentle, it almost makes you hum.

Mando’s hands move to your abdomen, he feels around a bit and asks if it hurts more today, you shake your head ‘no’ in reply, not trusting your voice. Once he’s done with checking your wounds, he stands up, putting his gloves back on. He gives you one nod and leaves to the cockpit.

He leaves the child down in the hull with you, the little guy immediately smiles and waddles your way, you return the smile and greet him.

“Hey buddy, you’re pretty cute aren’t you.” You rub your finger on his large ear, which earns you a cute giggle-like sound from the small creature. He grabs your finger, staring directly into your eyes. You can tell he feels safe with you. Another smile forms on your lips as you stand from the crate, scooping the small child into your arms, you start to make noises at him to get him to giggle again. You aren’t sure how long you hang out with the kid but Mando’s voice startles you when he speaks.

“He likes you, that’s good, I’m going to leave him with you while I hunt. Safer for him that way.” You look over to where he stands against the wall of the hull, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh boy, I get to be the babysitter?” You realize it came off more mean than sarcastic. “Sorry I didn’t mean for that to sound so bad, of course I’ll watch the little guy, do you mind if I work on some mechanical things while you’re gone or are you gonna yell at me again?” You raise an eyebrow as you shift the kid to your hip.

Mando sighs and pushes off the wall, he walks over to you and the kid. He’s so close to you, his chest armor almost brushing against your arm. You can even smell the same scent that's on the blanket you used a few hours ago. He brushes his finger against the top of the kids head. He turns his helmet to look at you as he speaks.

“Work on the control panel and maybe the hyperdrive too, if you have time.” He turns back around and walks towards the ramp that leads out of the hull. He slings a large ambien gun over his shoulder and stops half way down the ramp before speaking again.

“I should be back within a day, there’s food next to the med kits, I’ll bring back supplies for you.” With that he walks off into the dark of a mysterious planet. You clutch the kid closer to your side as the ramp ascends closing off the outside world from you and the kid, you smile down at him.

“Well, let's eat some food, huh kid, how does that sound?” You aren’t sure if you imagine it but his ears perk up the second you say food.

A few hours pass after the Mandalorian leaves, the kid falls back asleep in his little pram shortly after tearing through 2 ration packets. You start back up on the wires you were working on before you had fallen asleep after you settle the kid down. You’re able to fix them quickly and then you turn your attention towards the panel that the hyperdrive is in.

After hours of work, the cockpit gets blistering hot prompting you to remove the top of your jumpsuit. Leaving yourself in a tight tank top Peli gave you to go under it. You tie the arms of the jumpsuit around your waist to make sure the pants portion of them stay put. You continue to work on the hyperdrive for a few more hours, before finding the source of the issue. Whoever put the compressor on this power converter did a piss poor job of it, the compressor was limiting the hyperdrive from moving smoothly and efficiently through space. You completely remove the bad component and get to work on fixing it. Once you finish that you stand back and smile at the work you did, it has been a while since you got to work on a ship of your own volition without being forced to do it for others. You had come to miss it.

You wipe your hand against your forehead, stopping the sweat that’s forming there from getting into your eyes. You rest your arms on your hips. Letting yourself catch your breath in the sweltering heat. A large hand covers your shoulder and nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You grab it without thinking and flip the person over your body, causing them to land against the floor of the cockpit with a loud thump. It was only then you realize the person who grabbed you was in fact Mando.

He groans from the floor. Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth in shock, as he sits up and cracks his neck.

“I’m so sorry Mando, I was so focused on fixing this fucked up compressor I didn’t even hear you come into the ship.” You stare at Mando who’s now standing to his feet rubbing his back. He leans back and lets out another groan as his back cracks, oh yeah, he’s definitely angry.

“It’s fine, I didn’t realize you had combat experience. I'll keep that in mind the next time I sneak up on you.” He chuckles while rolling out his shoulder.

“In my defense you said you’d be gone for an entire day, it has only been like 12 hours.” He looks at you for a little too long, you finally look down and realize your jumpsuit is still tied at your waist. Your white under shirt is sticking to you with sweat and your nipples are starting to peek through the thin material. You quickly turn and your body heats further with embarrassment. You work to untie the arms and gather your jumpsuit back around your shoulders. You zip it up and make sure it’s secure before turning around. You feel more blood rushing to your cheeks as Mando’s helmet goes from looking at your chest to looking at your face.

“I’m sorry, it got really hot in here while I was working.” You decide to stare at his boots instead of looking up into his helmet, you’re thoroughly embarrassed.

“What did you say about a fucked up compressor?” He says, changing the subject.

“Oh yeah, someone put the compressor into the hyperdrive wrong it was fucking with the power converter which is why the Crest has been lagging so much while jumping into hyperspace lately, the compressor was working against the converter not with it.” You turn your attention back to the hyperdrive and close the panel off with a thin piece of metal that matches the ship’s walls.

“I was the one who put the compressor in, I didn’t realize I did it wrong.” His deep modulated voice says behind you. Your shoulders tense, Maker, you really have it out to piss him off today.

“Thanks for catching it. The bounty came willingly. I got your supplies as well.” Your stomach flips at the small praise he gives you, turning around and giving him a nod. You finally give him a once over, he looks the same as always but he does have dried mud covering most of his armor.

“I’ll get the coordinates to the next bounty into the flight computer, you should go take a shower.” He gives you one last look before descending the ladder to the hull.

“Mando, wait.” His helmet pops back up into the cockpit and turns to look at you.

“Thanks for getting me stuff. And sorry for uh, you know.” You avert your eyes to the wall, still feeling bad for hurting him. He doesn’t say anything and leaves the cockpit again.

You stay in the cockpit for another few minutes before you realize the kid was probably up now, and hungry. You walk down the ladder and cross to where you left him in his pram. Noises from the refresher stop you in your tracks. You hear the shower running, as well as deep sounds coming from Mando. You walk closer to the door to hear what was happening, you hear him moan. He says something but it’s too muffled to make out exactly what he says, he grunts one last time and then it’s quiet except for the sounds of water hitting the floor.

Your eyes go wide, as your whole body goes warm once you realize what he was doing. You walk away from the door, your breathing heavier than it should be. That was such a personal moment that you just listened in on. But was Mando touching himself to the thought of you? That couldn’t possibly be the case, you tell yourself. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even like you. He did stare at your chest earlier though, and the thought of him staring at you did turn you on. Sex wasn’t something you had even thought about in the past years. And now wasn't a good time to start thinking about it either.

The cooing sounds of the kid brings you out of your thoughts, you walk over to him and pick him up with a smile on your flushed face.

***

Mando doesn’t know what comes over him in the shower. He’s usually so well composed, but watching you breathe heavily after flipping him over your body, your nipples pressing tight against the thin material of your white under shirt, it did something for him. He needs release, he thinks about what you would look like on top of him, blindfolded riding his cock. How you would sound begging for him to rub his fingers against your clit. He thinks about how hard he can fuck himself into you.

His hand moves quickly over his cock at the dirty thoughts. His other arm is bracing himself against the wall of the shower, the shower you were in only a few hours ago. He lays his head on shower wall and curses under his breath. His thoughts quickly change to how fucking pretty you would look in this shower on your knees, getting soaked and waiting for him to shove his cock down your eager throat. Mando fists his cock faster, moaning out your name. He thinks about what it would be like to taste you, how sweet you must be. He comes with your phantom taste on his tongue and lets out a groan, knowing he’s being too loud.

He leans against the shower wall, breathing deeply, riding out the high. Mando rinses off letting his shame wash over him before getting out of the shower, his post orgasm guilt gnawing at him for what he just did. He feels wrong for thinking of you like that. He barely knows you but all he’s wants to do is rip that stupid jumpsuit off you and fuck you until you couldn’t walk. Mando shakes the thought out of his head and gets redressed.

He doesn’t put the beskar back on, just his helmet and regular clothing. He leaves the refresher to see you standing next to the supplies he brought back and notices you've changed into a cream tunic and long pants, he had to guess your sizing but it seems like he guessed fairly well. You’re holding the baby, feeding him one of the rations he picked up. The little guy’s face is completely covered in crumbs.

He tenses when you turn to look at him, more guilt washing over him as you smile innocently. He just hopes he wasn’t loud enough for you to hear.

“Hey look kid, he’s out of the shower, yeah, yes he is. You can hang out with him now and pull at his clothes, instead of pulling at my hair.” You smile down at the kid and bounce him in your arms. He smiles back at you, letting out a little coo while reaching up to grab at your hair as if he’s emphasizing your point. He relaxes at that, you’ve been busy with the kid. You didn’t hear him. You bring the kid over, Mando holds his arms out to take the baby from you. He runs an ungloved finger over the kids head, he gives another little coo of approval. It seems he’s happy Mando is back. You give them a smile which you drop quickly, your mouth forms a small frown, your eyes look him over a few times and your eyebrows furrow as your finger points at his clothing.

“Where’s your armor?” Mando looks down at himself. He had taken the armor off feeling comfortable enough around you to leave himself vulnerable.

“I’m allowed to take it off, Beskar can be uncomfortable sometimes. I trust you enough to not to murder me on my own ship.” Mando shifts his weight uncomfortably, he isn’t used to having to explain himself. A smirk with a hint of mischief in it stretches across your face.

“I don’t know about that one Mando, I totally beat you up in the cockpit a few hours ago.” Your fist brushes against his arm in a playful, friendly way but the way his pants tighten doesn’t feel friendly. He shakes his head and decides to change the subject.

“Where’s the nav taking us next?” Your face drops at his dismissal of your comment.

“Cantonica, we should be there in about 4 standard hours.” As you say that the Crest rocks and jolts forward, Mando reaches out an arm to steady you from falling. You swear under your breath and immediately shoot up to the cockpit. He follows closely behind you, towing the kid up the ladder with him.

“Why did we drop out of hyperspace, what’s happening?” Mando stares at you through his helmet watching you open the hyperdrive panel. From the look on your face he knows something’s really wrong.

“Uh I can’t be sure but I think the converter just overheated and fried the entire circuit.” You look back at him over your shoulder, your expression filled with stress and he watches as you nervously bite your lip.

“Mando there’s no way for me to fix this without us landing the Crest, we’re gonna have to coast to Cantonica without any help from the hyperdrive.” Mando lets out a frustrated sigh and sets the kid down in his pram. He protests some but after Mando places a firm hand on his head, the kid seems to understand that he needs to stay put.

“I thought you said you fixed the hyperdrive, made it even better.” Mando’s angry, without using hyperspace to travel. The trip to Cantonica was going to take an extra week, which meant a week of not being able to do his job. You’ve already moved to the pilot’s chair, your fingers working over the nav control system, typing in different codes. Your eyebrows pull together in concentration and your teeth still nibble on the skin of your lower lip. Mando thinks about it, a week alone with you could either be torture or heaven. He decides quickly it’ll probably be both.

“I found a planet we could stop at on our way to Cantonica, we could pull into a hanger space and I could have the new part and the hyperdrive up and working in 6 hours, the planet is in the same system as Cantonica. It's only one system away from us right now. It could cut our travel time significantly.” Mando isn’t sure if you didn’t hear his rude comment or decided to not address it, either way he moved on.

“What Planet?” Mando has to be careful when it comes to random stops, making sure to never run into rangers from the New Republic, or the Imperials.

“Dantooine.” You look up from the controls, you have a wide-eyed expression on your face, it seems like you want to go to Dantooine less than Mando does.

“No” Mando says shortly, “We’ll have to just coast to Cantonica. We can’t stop on Dantooine.”

You sigh, “Mando, this will be our only chance of getting the part to fix the hyperdrive before we get to Cantonica, it’d shorten the trip by 3 days, are you sure you don’t want to stop?” You look like you’re almost pleading with him to say no again. He isn’t sure why you’re even making a case to stop there since you seem so opposed to the idea of Dantooine.

Mando shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. “No, we can’t, I can’t be on Dantooine, too many New Republic rangers, I may or may not have a couple dozen warrants for my arrest, I’m not taking that chance.” Mando turns around to leave the cockpit but still notices the breath of air you let go in relief.

“Ok, I’ll route us to Cantonica without using hyperdrive, this trip should take us about 6 days.” You say quietly. He leaves you to type in the coordinates on the flight computer. Mando’s actually grateful to have you controlling the Crest because it’s been far too long since he’s had to use the manual controls on the ship for sub-lightspeed travel. He’s still gambling taking this route instead, light speed traveling is one of the only things keeping him safe. The Crest’s signal is blocked so as long as the ship flies under the radar of patrolling Rangers he assumes you’ll be fine.

He starts walking down the ladder when he hears you mumble that you’re sorry for messing up. Mando’s chest tightens, he wants to tell you it wasn’t your fault but instead he makes his way to the supplies. He grabbed as much as he could on Felucia, which will come in handy during this journey. He counts out the food rations he acquired, they have more than enough to get them to Cantonica even with how much the kid eats. Mando shakes his head thinking about how the little guy can put back full on frogs, he isn’t sure where any of it goes. He’s so small. He starts to pack the food rations away, next to the med kits and water supply, deciding to clean up the ship a bit since now he has nothing but time. He takes the blanket, pillow and clothes he bought you and puts it in a nook of the hull, it looks comfortable enough. More comfortable than the chair you slept in that’s for sure, he’s slept in those chairs before, they fucking suck.

After he puts all the supplies away he goes to his cot, it wasn’t much but it was something to sleep in, he keeps it tucked away in a small room next to the refresher. His blanket is back on the cot which means you not only put it back but also knew he had given you his own blanket to use. Mando lays down on the cot with his arms tucked behind his head. He isn’t sure how long he stares at the ceiling for but he decides instead of doing a whole lot of nothing he can at least bring you and the kid something to eat. He heads back up the ladder to find you slumped in the pilot’s chair. He gently shakes your shoulder, you shoot awake and scream out something about a red man. Your shoulders and chest are falling heavily with your ragged breath, your eyes find Mando’s visor and calm at the sight of it.

“Sorry, I- that’s what I meant when I don’t sleep.” You look out the transparisteel to the planets and stars moving around the Crest.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you up, I just wanted to bring you some food. I’m sure you’re hungry.” Mando hands you a package ration. You thank him with a small smile.

“The kid fell back asleep, I don’t know if you want to wake him up to eat.” You open the ration package and begin eating it quickly.

“No that's ok, he eats so much he can miss out on one snack.” Mando sits in the co-pilot chair and watches as you eat.

“Yeah, I thought maybe you just didn’t feed him but holy bantha can that kid eat, must be a growing boy.” You hold a hand over your mouth as you laugh. Mando joins you and lets out a small chuckle.  You finish the package of rations and relax back into the chair. Mando looks over at the sleeping form in the floating pram and watches the small child’s chest rise and fall.

“Yeah, I think he is, I’m supposed to bring him back to his people, the Jedi, I don’t know if they eat a lot or if it’s just him.” Mando looks back at you, your entire body tenses. Your face is filled with pain and you look scared.

“Hey is everything ok? Are you in pain?” Mando moves to touch your arm but you stand up quickly and back away from him, he notices your hands are shaking.

“I think I’m going to go lay down in the hull, I saw you bought me a blanket. Thank you.” You move down the ladder into the hull quickly, leaving Mando confused about your sudden outburst, did he say something? He looks at the chair you were just sitting in, trying to figure out what he had said that made you so upset. it seemed like you were both getting along until he mentioned the Jedi. He isn’t sure what he did to make you that upset, but he feels bad. He wants to apologize but decides maybe it better to just give you space instead.

***

The words keep turning over in your head as you lay on the cold floor of the hull.

“ The Jedi, the Jedi, the Jedi, the Jedi.” You press the heels of your hands against your eyes as hard as you can trying to force the words out of your mind. You know you won’t be able to sleep but you needed to get away from Mando before he started to ask more questions. You don’t want to tell him about your past, you never want to tell anyone. You want to forget about it yourself. You lay on the floor for a while longer before you hear Mando’s footsteps coming down the ladder. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Ready to apologize for leaving the cockpit the way you did. He turns and heads straight for the med kits.

“I need to change your bandages.” Mando stops at your feet, his helmet cocks to the side looking down at you.

You sigh deeply before getting up and sitting on the crate you sat on before. Mando grabs your forearm, the heat of his skin feels amazing on your own. The rough pads of his fingers run gently along the angry pink scar forming where your tracker used to be. The bacta is working wonders, it’s still there but it hardly hurts. Come to think of it, the only injury that still hurts is the bruise on your abdomen. Mando moves to touch your thigh, once again, you’re grateful for the long tunic you had changed into. You hook your thumbs in the waistline of the pants and tug them down, to give Mando access to work on your burn. His hands feels even better on your thigh and your mind roams back to what you heard coming from the refresher earlier today. Your breath hitches in your throat, Mando’s attention turns from your thigh to your face

“Is this ok? I’m not hurting you am I?” You shake your head no, not trusting your voice to come out even. Mando turns his attention back to his hand rubbing the bacta on your thigh, his other hand grabs the inside of your thigh to turn it so he can get a better look. You let out a little whimper and his helmet whips up to look at you again.

“Sorry, it’s still a little sore I guess.” You shrug your shoulders and bite your lip as you lie through your teeth hoping he doesn’t catch how breathy your voice sounds. He applies the bandage to your thigh and then stands up. Allowing you room to pull your pants back on over your hips. You stand up, your chest almost brushing against his. His hands move back to touch you, bunching up the tunic, excitement bursts through your veins before you realize he’s just checking the bruise on your abdomen. His fingers brush across it gently and it leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“How does your bruise feel? Your other wounds look ok but I’ve noticed you wincing a lot while breathing or moving.” Your face gets warm at that thought, he pays close enough attention to you to see those small movements. His hand stops at the large, angry scar next to the bruises. You quickly put your hand over his, ripping it away from your skin. You lower your tunic back down and try to hide it from his view, that scar is just your past painted on your skin. He pulls his hand back, dropping it back to his waist.

“I’m ok, it’ll heal in time. It feels better than it did earlier, thank you again for helping me.” You say the words quickly and hope he won’t point out the scar. You finally look up at him. He gives a quick nod before turning his helmet to the small bed you made in the corner of the hull.

“You can go lay back down if you want, the kid’s still asleep. I'm also going to lay down for a while. We have a long way till Cantonica.” You let out a breath, grateful he didn’t bring up the scar. He moves back towards his cot and disappears behind the door. You decide to lay back down hoping that maybe you can get a few restful hours without nightmares.

Sleep never comes, you stare at the hull for a couple of hours just thinking, you hear Mando’s door open and then the refresher door and finally the shower. Your entire body gets warm at the thought of his last shower. He was moaning so loudly, you think about what he looks like under the helmet, how his face looks when he’s rubbing his cock. Your hand mindlessly moves between your thighs. You aren’t a stranger to sex or masturbation. You just haven’t gotten the chance to practice either for the past 5 years. Your fingers start to move around your entrance and you almost gasp at how wet you are. You move your fingers back towards your clit wishing it was his hand instead of yours.

You think about how his hands feel on your thigh, how the rough pads of his fingers would feel against your clit. You bite your arm to keep from moaning. Your fingers move faster thinking about how it would feel to be fucked by him. You haven’t been fucked since you were a part of the rebellion, and even then it was never any good. You bet Mando can make you feel good. The thought of his lips against your body makes your fingers move faster, your hips bucking up trying to get more friction. You stifle another small moan before it could leave your lips. You’re getting so close to release, feel it building deep inside you, five years overdue. Your hips start moving in rhythm with your fingers and the sweet familiar heat starts to lick up your body. You bite into your arm wishing it was Mando’s shoulder instead.

“What are you doing?” The voice startles you out of your thoughts, your thighs clamp close over your hand. You look up to see Mando standing at the foot of your small bed, staring down at you with his hands on his hips, like he just caught a small child stealing candy.

No-Nothing.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper, your heart beating wildly in your chest. You can’t believe you just got caught in the act. Mando drops to his knees in front of you.

”Really because from where I’m standing it doesn’t seem like nothing.” His voice seems deeper than usual, you try to catch your breath and pull your hand out from your pants.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just laying down.” Mando rips the blanket off of you and stares down the hand that’s still moving out of your pants.

“You were touching yourself.” He doesn't pose it as a question, just a simple statement. His helmet drags it’s gaze up from the scene in front of him to look at your face. Your cheeks heat with the accusation. “Well don’t stop on my account, keep going.” Mando stares back down at your hand in the waistband of your pants. Your breath gets stuck in your throat. His words send shock waves of pleasure through your body. You continue to stare at him though, too confused to move.

“It sounded like you were close, I want to see you come.” Mando shifts back on his legs, getting a better view of your body. You move your hand back into your pants and your fingers find you clit easily. You refuse to look away from Mando’s helmet.

“D-Do you want me to take my pants off?” You ask while slowly moving your fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Mando shakes his head, “No I want you to do exactly what you were doing before, I just want to see the look on your face when you come.” He moves like he’s going to touch your legs but decides against it. He puts his hands back on his thighs and just watches as you get yourself off. Your head lolls to the side as your orgasm comes back into view. Your fingers move back to your entrance, teasing yourself to prolong this moment as long as possible. You quickly fall into the pace from before, chasing your release.

“What are you thinking about, tell me.” Mando cocks his head to the side, his hand now pressing against the large bulge in his pants.

“You, I was thinking about how your hands feel on my skin.” There’s no time to be embarrassed when an orgasm is close in your future. Your hand moves quicker against your clit now, knowing he’s touching himself. It only turns you on more. You want nothing more than to come for him right now. Mando hums at your response. “I heard you in the shower earlier, moaning, I was thinking of that too, thinking of you touching yourself.” Your confession makes his hand pause over his bulge for a split second before he continues and mumbles out something in a different language.

Your release was on the edge, your fingers moving quickly as your chest rises up and down. Your eyes move down his chest to look at the way his hand moves over his pants rubbing his cock, while watching you masturbate.

“I was thinking of you on your knees in the shower, your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.” His voice is breathy even through the modulator and his hand finally moves out to touch the inside of your thigh.

“Fuck Mando I’m gonna-“ His touch on your thigh is all it takes to push you over the edge. Your hips buck up into your hand and your eyes roll into the back of your head, as your first orgasm in 5 years rips through you with a vengeance. You finally let out the moan you've been holding in, tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes as you whimper and thrash letting the waves of it crash over it. Mando works soothing circles into the skin of your thigh through the fabric of your pants, his helmet watching your legs shake as your fingers finally slow to a stop.

When you finally come down from your high you pull your hand out of your pants ready to wipe it on the blanket but he catches your wrist.

“Close your eyes.” you oblige, still reeling from your orgasm. He grabs your hand, you hear some movement and then a wet, warmth envelops them. He dipped the fingers you used to bring yourself to orgasm into his mouth. The thought brings more pleasure to your core as he sucks your release off both of them, humming contently. Your fingers leave his mouth with a pop, he drops your hand and moves his own away from your thigh. You finally open your eyes to see him standing above you again, he stares at you for a few moments with his head tilted.

“Get some sleep.” Is all he says before turning towards the ladder that leads to the cockpit.

[sparkbeast20]

Hi! Love your writings! Reaction from both brothers and side characters of Female Gangster MC. Like they just found out

ANS: So, this My first request I ever made. I hope I did you justice with this Anon and also Thank you for the kind words, I'm glad you like my writing <3

If want to send request feel free to send them :3

Warning: Mention of Guns, Blood, Killing, Violence, Taking the fall for someone, and PTSD.

The Brothers and Dateables + (Luke platonic) finding out that F!MC use to be a Gangster

Lucifer

“MC, what’s this” Lucifer points at a scar on her chest, what looks like a stab wound.

“It nothing Lucifer, its just…. It just a remainder not to disobey orders….” She trails off, starting to tear up “it my fault, I got to reckless and almost someone I care about killed” she places a hand on the scar try to keep it together and not show weakness Infront of the Avatar of Pride.

Lucifer slowly took off one of his gloves, and walk closer to MC, and place his hand over hers

“Scars are nothing to be ashamed off, you did it to protect someone you care and….” He places his hand on her chin and lean her head back to met his black and red glance. “Your safe here, you don’t have to worry to go back to that life anymore”

You just the tears fall as your face soft and embrace him, feeling safe knowing that you don’t have hide you past to him.

Mammon

“This all your Mammon!” she angerly whisper in his ear, and groan at her pestering.

“ShHH! Quiet, they’ll hear us human-” then you smack him slightly on the back of his head.

“Whoops, you called me human again”

“Hey! Do you really need to- WAIT there’s a car over there” him point out, and quickly book it to the park vehicle and see that it isn’t lock, however?

“Crap! The key isn’t here” he tries to look around, but quickly push to the passenger, and MC sat the driver sit and open up under the steering wheel.

“Why do I have to do everything around here!” she grabs and cut two wires and start hot wire. In second the car starts up and she buckle her seat belt. “Mams, you guys can survive a car to the face?”

“Yeah…. Why- wait!?! What are you-”

“Buckle yourself in!” She quickly steps on the gas, the demons been chasing them heard the engine, but quickly get hit by the car. As the human and avatar of greed make their escape.

“WHAOOO! I have fun thrill in months” as MC enjoy the adrenaline, Mammon looks over to the human that he was suppose to protect, in amaze and fear. He makes a mental note that Lucifer isn’t the only he shouldn’t just provoke.

Leviathan

“This is impossible!” Levi is struggling with a level from a game from the human world that he just bought, while MC behind him, trying to hold her laughter.

Is a mock version of gang game and Levi, is at the level of the game where to rival gangs are fighting each other for territory?

“You’re focusing on the grunts and not the ones who are hiding from afar- look” she grabs the control from Levi and start playing the level like it was nothing, as she explained how and why he keep dying, all the while Levi is both shock with how MC can play and concern about the implication of how she gotten the knowledge.

“There, now you just have to escape, I never good with car chase, only driving really fast- Huh…. Levi was wrong?”

Levi snap from his train of thought and grab the controller from her, and finishing the level.

“MC, were you-”

“Yeah, but left that behind me.”

Satan

MC and Satan are watch Mammon and Levi being strung up by Lucifer from afar.

“I’m surprise, that you’re not phase about this” Satan asks looking over to her, watching why she not reacting on the display of punishment Infront of her.

“EH… I’ve seen worst”

“Really? What worst then this”

“Being killed-”

“What!?! That’s not punishment!”

“You didn’t let me finish, watching someone being killed Infront of you is worst. It’s a way to learn to obey your boss and survive in world”

She looks on to the demons being strung, while Satan is still letting the information sink in, who know that the human was brought to hell, has already lived in one.

Asmodeus

“I’ve been meaning to asks darling, where did you get your scars?” Asmo asks MC as he and her are taking a bath together.

“Which one?”

“Well…. All of them”

“Ah…. All of them are from fights that I got to”

“Why would you go and get in to fights, you’re to precious” Asmo cooed them move closer and grab her hand, and start scrubbing her arm. She laughs as she is tickled by his action.

“You know, for a bunch of demons. your all nicer than other humans back home” pauses for a moment, by continue with a giggle.

“Well, you don’t have to worry anymore. As long I’m here no one will ever lay a finger on you again” and that’s a promise he made to you and himself.

Beelzebub

“I’m glad you like it Beel” MC made Beel a homemade dish from the human world to calm the hungry demon.

“Its so good, I like your cooking”

“Nah…. You would like Sal’s cooking, he’s the one who taught me how to cook this”

“Maybe, if we go to the human world, you might think he’ll cook for me and my brothers”

“Yeah totally! He loves my friends…...but he can’t”

“Why? Did he leave or something?”

“His at prison, he took the blame for me. And said you should get out of this life….. I guess cooking isn’t the only thing I learn from him” she laughs to hide the fact she misses her mentor.

Beel quickly engulfs her in bear hug, and rub her back.

“Is okay, maybe we can visit him someday”

She sighs and let the tears fall as she return the hug.

“I-I’ll like that, thank Beel”

Belphegor

“You’re still up” MC asks Belphie who is standing at the doorway at her room.

“Sorry, I was waiting for you”

“Really why?”

“You been having nightmare with some men with guns, I figure to help you” she let out sharp gasp and turn away from Belphie.

“I’m sorry to keep you up-”

“No! I already cause so much pain; I want to help you to keep those nightmares away. Like I promise.”

She looks back with her eyes widen and clenching his pact mark on her wrist. She hastily grabs his hand with her head hang low.

“P-please…. Make the nightmares go away….”

“Anything for you, I’ll keep the nightmares and the bad men away”

Diavolo

“You like what you see” Diavolo spoke behind MC startling her, Diavolo was shock to her reaction almost bumping into crown in display.

“Oh, I-I wasn’t planning to steal this I swear-”

“Calm down, I trust you. Sorry for startling you.”

“You trust me, even with my background” she mutters, and look directly at Diavolo’s eyes to see if his lying or not.

“I didn’t look in to your past, only your connection with Lilith. I believe in Demons, Angel, and Humans can have second chances. If you’re a good person now, as long you learn from your past. I don’t see to bring up old scars”

“Thank you, My lord”

“Please, Call me Diavolo”

“I don’t think Lucifer will like that”

Barbatos

MC is inside Barbatos room, helping him clean, to the surprise of the demon butler seeing that he didn’t help in clean. But he can’t refuse the human.

But then she stops and look at the door she uses in going back in time in the time of the “Incident”

“Barbatos, can you see any path where I stayed in the human world and never came here in the first places”

“I’m afraid, I am forbidden to use my powers like that, why may I ask what makes you think of that?”

“I think, I got the luckiest path. And I’m thankfully for this. I think I’ll be in the side of the road-”

Suddenly Barbatos places a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look at the demon.

“Its better not to think of what could’ve happen and focus on your presents self”

Simeon

“Simeon, am I bad person?” She asks while Simeon is writing a draft of his story.

“No, why do you ask?”

“You’re the closes person to being pure and good, is it good for me to threaten people even though I was just following orders”

Simeon stop writing and put the quill down, and look over to MC.

“Did they threat you?”

“Yes”

“Did you, like doing things like that to other?”

“No!” she quickly sat up to that question.

“Are you willing to do that again?”

“Never!”

“Then you’re a good person.”

Solomon

Solomon and MC are at purgatory hall practicing spells for class, when MC spill the potion on to herself, then she starts taking off her shirt, leaving Solomon blushing and turning his back to give her some privacy.

“MC!?! Warner me next time, before you start striping.”

“Sorry, force of habit”

“What you always spill potion on yourself all the time, back home” she looks with bows rise up.

“Oh… No, every time I get back home from a job, I’m usually covered in blood and I don’t want to leave any evidence behind”

“W-what exactly, are those “Jobs” of yours?”

“I you know shady things, if you can keep secrets about yourself. Then I have secrets of my own” she smiled teasing him.

But to him, its no tease.

Luke

“Luke, little advise from me. Don’t be like Mammon or Me” MC and Luke watches Mammon, Levi and Solomon playing poker in class waiting the bell to ring.

“I know Mammon shouldn’t be followed, but you’re a good person I don’t see why you rope yourself with him.”

“Oh sweetie, I’m just nice to people I care about. I don’t care for others outside my gan- never mind”

“Wha-” then the bell rings, and Mammon rushes and grab MC by arm and dragging her out the classroom.

Leaving Luke confuse and worried.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist the Colours  -  1/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: Bound to your human form and cut off from the sea, your life is exchanged from pirate to pirate, until a ship of the King intercepts a sale, taking you onboard and saving you from a fate worse than death. 

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long so I figured meh, what the hell. It’s mega inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End cause Calypso owns my uwu and I love the story of her and Davy Jones. Um, I hope you enjoy! 

~*~

His hands gently caress your skin, gentle with you, a stark contrast to the man who rules the seas. He treats you as if you're delicate, though he knows you're not.

His touches are so, so tender.

"I love you, my (Y/n)."

Fingers skimming over your back, trailing over your spine and down your legs. His hold on your body is soft, while the hold on your heart is strong.

"I love you, James.  My love for you will never die. You hold my heart in your hands." He holds the back of your head with one hand, tilting you back a bit so he can look into your eyes, crystal blue depths pouring out emotions while saying few words.

"You have my heart, and you shall continue to have it until the day I die."

~

“Are we ready to set sail, Captain?” The young man looks up through his lashes, squinting against the harsh sun and the spray of the sea.

“Aye, I think we’re ready. What say you, James?” The blond man looks to his first mate, who stands by the edge of the ship, staring out across the open water with a small smile on his face.

“The wind will be with us today. Our journey will be bountiful. There’s a change in the tide, a new dawn on the horizon.” Steve grabs his friend’s shoulder, looking into his eyes.

“I can feel her, Steve. We’re getting close. I know it.” The blond smiles and looks over to the boy, nodding once.

“All hands, prepare to make sail!” He shouts, running down the stairs to alert the rest of the crew.

Steve walks over to his helmsman, patting him on the shoulder.

“Where to today, Captain?” Sam asks with a grin.

“We head for Tortuga,” he says, glancing over at James. The brunet nods, eyes focused on the sea.

~*~

“All hands! Battle Stations!”

You shift to your knees on the hard wooden bed, looking out through the tiny porthole.

“What is it?” Wanda asks, her voice scratchy and hoarse.

“The Royal Navy,” you whisper, bound hands grabbing handfuls of your dress to move it out of the way, allowing you to sit more comfortably to watch as the three ships converge on the one you’re currently imprisoned upon.

“What will they make of us?” She wonders aloud, fingers spinning dainty red circles in the air. You bite your lip, knowing too well what they’ll make of you.

“Our chances of survival are higher with them than with our current captors.” She shrugs, lying back down as cannons boom overhead.

You close your eyes, exhaling deeply through your nose and conjuring what you can.

It’s effective, and the sky is soon booming with thunder. The ocean tugs and turns, waves crashing against the ship, the fighting getting drowned by the rain.

You hear the tell-tale thuds of the ship being boarded, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re transferred from one cage to another. But you hope that the new cage will be slightly more comfortable.

Two sets of feet clomp down the stairs and you and Wanda both sit up.

A man wearing the signature red and gold of the King walks towards you.

A young boy, easily no older than sixteen, stumbles after him.

“Boy!” He shouts, turning to him. He cowers, clearly not wanting to get hurt.

“Why are these women in chains?” He demands. The boy looks at you, his eyes widening for a moment before he swallows hard.

“C-cap’n says that they be witches. He locked ‘em down here to protect the crew. Said it bad luck to bed them.” The King’s man stares at you then at Wanda.

“Witches? How?” The boy’s fingers tremble as he points to Wanda.

“Th-that one there, she be a true witch. With red flames and a sixth sense. She can control men to do her bidding. Cap’n locked ‘er up with them special chains, keeps her powers at bay.” Wanda’s eyes glow a fiery red as she’s reminded of the mistreatment the Captain has shown the two of you.

“And this one here?” The man steps closer to your cell door, eyeing you closely.

“She be of godly descent. Power over the wind and tide, no doubt the conjurer of the storm. She be tied to the ocean and the ocean to her. She controls the monsters, the demons that lurk in the deep. Cap’n treated her better than any woman deserves, but he stopped, got lazy. And this is her punishin’ us for it. You mark my words. She created that storm.”

The man cocks his head to the side in curiosity.

“Bring them over. The boy too. The King will want to hear about this.” The boy quickly unlocks your cells, and then you’re being ushered up the stairs and above deck.

The sky, which was dark and dangerous nought five minutes ago, is clear and blue. Dead bodies lay askew on the deck, blood staining the wood.

The men of the King stop and stare as you and Wanda are ushered towards the gangplank.

A man whistles, his hand coming to your shoulder, and you wrench yourself out of his grip, levelling him with a hard glare as a boom of thunder explodes overhead, a crack of lightning touching down on the water beside the ship.

Everyone is silent, the Captain staring at you in wonder and awe.

“No one is to touch the women,” he announces loudly, making sure all his crew can hear.

“They are to be treated with the utmost respect. Do not touch them. Do not even look at them in the wrong way, understand?”

He’s met with a series of “aye captain”s.

You square your shoulders and cross the plank, Wanda right behind you.

The two of you are then promptly led to a small office.

“The Captain will be with you shortly,” the man says, closing the doors and standing outside, his back to you. You glance at your friend and nod slightly, a silent ‘I told you so’. She rolls her eyes and looks around the room.

“He means to bring us to the King. We will no doubt be exploited for our powers yet again. There is no way we win this.” You shake your head, eyes finding a paper on his desk.

Anthony Edward Stark.

The name rings a bell, but before you can put your finger on it, the door is opening and the Captain walks in.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m the Captain. Tony is what my friends call me. I suppose you may call me that as well. So... witches. Do you have names?” You’re shocked, and it’s obvious on your face by the way that the man laughs.

“We’re not barbaric. It’s obvious to me that you were being held captive on the HYDRA ship. You may as well get comfortable here with me.” Wanda stays standing by the door, but you approach him.

“I am (Y/n). This is Wanda. What do you plan on doing with us?” He sighs heavily and sits down at his desk, pouring himself a glass of alcohol.

“I plan on continuing my route as I was supposed to. We’re to make port in Tortuga for some business, then we head back to England.” You furrow your brows.

“Why not take us back to England now?” Wanda asks, her eyes red with suspicion.

“Because anytime away from the King is time I cherish. And I think the two of you will make excellent company.” He smiles, winking at you.

The glass in his hand shatters and he curses, jumping up and away from his desk.

“Not that kind of company! Jesus! I just meant that I would like to learn more about your powers.” You look over at Wanda, whose glowing eyes are trained on Tony.

“And how do we know you won’t treat us the same way they all did?” She asks, her voice a venomous whisper.

He sighs and looks at the two of you for a moment, his eyes lingering on your necklace.

“Because. My mother was like you two. A sea witch, born with powers unparalleled. And I saw what men did to her for it. I will not let that happen to you as well.” The two of you are surprised at his words. Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before he clears his throat.

“I’ll see to it that the two of you have proper quarters, as well as changes of clothes. And I humbly welcome you to His Majesty, the King’s, esteemed ship: The Avenger.”

~

“Jesus Christ,” Steve whispers, taking off his hat in respect as they approach the wreckage in the water.

Sharks are circling, picking at any scraps of human flesh that they can find. Ship splinters and rope pollute the water, and the crew instantly know that this is the work of the King’s men.

“A quick fight,” James says, watching from the quarterdeck. Steve nods, curious about the events that transpired.

“Man overboard!” Someone shouts, and all eyes are searching for the body in question.

They see the subtle splashing, the man’s body mostly on a large piece of wood from the mast.

“Haul him up!” Steve shouts, hurrying to the spot to make sure the man’s okay.

When they finally get him over, he’s nothing but coughs and water, fingers trembling as he regains his bearings.

“What’s your name?” Steve asks, patting the young man on the shoulder.

When he finally looks up, everyone gasps. “It was the witch,” he whispers, blackened eyes darting around in fear.

“Witch?” Steve asks. This piques Bucky’s interest.

“Sh-she called the storm. Dragged the ship down down down, and now she goes on the celebrate with the King.” Bucky pushes forward, grabbing the man by the collar.

“The witch, what was her name?” The man shakes his head, eyes lolling to the side.

“Never name, only a witch. Never trust a woman... she be beautiful as a sunrise but deadly as a snake. I’d rather face a siren than that witch again. She owns the seas, is one with the winds, and she has a hatred in her heart for men.” The man stops to cough up water, his eyes rolling back as he starts convulsing.

Bucky stumbles back a step, his heart pounding in his head.

“Buck?” He shakes his head, climbing up the ladder on the mainmast to the crow’s nest. His eyes strain to see anything, any sign of where he should go.

What he sees leaves him feeling more hopeless than before.

Three of the king’s ships, on the very edge of the horizon, each going in separate directions.

He takes a deep breath in then climbs back down, furious with himself all over again.

“Buck? What the hell was that?” Steve demands, grabbing his best friend’s arm.

“It’s her, Steve.” Those three words are all it takes for Steve to understand.

“Which way did she go?” He asks softly, trying to help his friend.

“I’ve got no clue. There were three ships, all heading in different directions. There’s no way to know which ship has her, and we can’t very well follow all of them.” Steve sighs, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“We’ll find her. I swear. But until then we maintain course.” The brunet nods, eyes finding the wreckage in the water and praying to the gods that he finds you soon.

~

Tears wet your cheeks as you stare at the locket, fingers stroking the cool metal gently.

“If the memories pain you so, why conjure them so frequently?” You glance over at the brunette, wiping the wetness off of your face.

“Without the pain, I would forget my hatred. I would forget my purpose and I would lose hope.” Wanda nods thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall and sighing.

The quarters you were given are lovely. Soft beds, plenty of blankets, and a door with a lock. It’s all you could ask for and more from a ship belonging to the king.

“What do you suppose he’s going to do with us?” Wanda asks, fingers spinning a quill in the air above her head.

“I’m not sure quite yet. He seems to be genuine, but I fear he has ulterior motives. Surely, he’ll bring us to the king at some point. But until then... I only hope we fair better here than our last ship.” She nods, closing her eyes and lowering her hands, the quill dropping to the floor beside her as she spreads her fingers, red seeping out of her hands and down through the floorboards.

“There’s a change in the tide,” she whispers, her eyes opening and glowing red as she glances over at you. “Can you feel it?” You close your eyes, feeling the pull of the ocean deep in your gut.

“I feel it,” you whisper, “a change in the wind. A new presence is upon the waters, a dark one. I fear they are stronger than they seem.”

[nymphbnny]

can I get a switch Jean x switch reader, and they are both cocky and think they're dom and they both are flirts but can't handle someone flirting back.oh and in the end reader ends up on top😉

a.n: hey anon!! i hope you like it <3. i love this request because i’m a switch and have always considered jean being one as well.

MINORS DNI // + 18

genre: nsfw

word count: 1.5k

pairing: switch jean x switch female reader

Eren was pressing tightly against you, his hands roaming around your body, his cologne intoxicating you as he buried his face in the nape of your neck, whispering the things he’d do to you if you two were alone.

You threw your head back, leaning on his shoulder, his hand wrapping around your throat. Everyone was enjoying themselves. Connie had invited you all to his house to celebrate his twentieth birthday and it was one of the best parties you have attended so far.

Eren’s hand slipped between your thighs, your focus back on his touch. Your eyes darted across the room to find Jean staring at you, a random woman sitting on his lap, leaving kisses from his jaw down his neck.

He tightened his grip on her ass making her giggle and poke his nose. Still, he looked unimpressed and jealous. You didn’t know if it was the booze kicking in, but Jean looked hotter than usual.

You couldn’t deny that you felt a lot of tension around him and wondered if he felt the same way. Little did you know that he did and was currently wishing that you were the one grinding yourself on his lap instead.

Part of you wanted him to be sliding his hand down your thigh and bite your shoulder. You hated that woman for being all over him, kissing and touching him, but you didn’t want to show him that you envied her. Instead, you turned around, swinging your hips around as you got down with the rhythm, your hands moving all over his body until your face was facing Eren’s crotch, and stood back up, your dress rising at a dangerous level.

Eren’s hands went down to squeeze your plump flesh, only to be pushed away by a tall figure.

Jean.

“Yo dude, that wasn’t cool.” Eren snickered but nevertheless left, not wanting to cause any trouble at Connie’s party.

You coked an eyebrow, crossing your arms against your chest, pushing your breasts up. “Not cool dude.” You went to turn around but he grabbed your arm and pushed you to him, your back colliding with his chest.

You heard him chuckled in your ear, his hand sitting on your lower stomach as the other toyed with your dress strap. “That was quite the show you put out there.” He gripped your hip and pushed you further back, your ass pressed on his bulge.

He made you feel aroused like no other, and all you wanted to do was to ride him until you come undone around his cock.

“Listen to me y/n” he paused, moving his lips next to your ear. “You belong to me, my property,” he whispered kissing your earlobe.

You turned around and gave raised a cocky eyebrow at him. “I don’t belong to you. And I am not your property.” You sassed, then proceeded. “But you are.” You purred in a sultry tone as you snaked your arm around his neck, your hand going down to squeeze his growing erection, a soft groan leaving his brown lips.

“Playing tough now huh?” he smirked.

“I don’t like the way she was touching you. Only I want to make you feel like this. You hear me?” you grabbed his jaw making him maintain eye contact with you.

The tension was indescribable. Your nipples were hard just from it, aroused to know what will happen next.

“If I see him touching you like that ever again, I’ll kill him doll,” he removed his face from your grasp and gripped your throat, “understood?”

Although you didn’t want to show it, he turned you on.

Alcohol mixed with energy drinks always made you horny. You felt powerful and wanted to top him. What you didn’t know is that he wanted to do the same thing as well.

Two tops can’t make a bottom. However, you had a theory in mind that you wanted to test out.

You nodded your head and grabbed his arm, dragging him with you to the guest bedroom.

You carefully locked the door behind you and turned around crashing your lips on his. His hands found their way to your cheeks before sliding down to grab your straps, carefully yanking them off your shoulders.

Your kiss was urgent, you wanted to take off all his clothes and run your hand all over his body. He was your possession and you wanted to leave your marks all over him.

You weren’t sure if that feeling of possessiveness came from jealousy or simply because you wanted to hump him, but it didn’t matter because by the time you tried to analyze what you were feeling, you both have already undressed each other, staring ravenously at your bodies.

“Touch me,” he commanded, guiding your hand over his toned chest to the partition of his abs. He flinched at your touch, a tint of pink appearing on his cheeks. You smirked as you moved your hand lower, but he was quick to stop you and walk you to the bed, gently pushing you on it.

Your back hit the mattress, your legs spread wide open to him. He stared at your cunt and smirked, sending a harsh slap to it. You yelped, quick to close your legs together.

“Ah, ah.” he taunted, gripping your thighs and pushing them apart, his long fingers drawing patterns next to your folds.

“Jean,” you squirmed, wanting to feel his fingers pump inside you. You felt soft and fragile, a feeling you weren’t quite used to having. But then you remembered that it was him, and his much bigger frame impacted you like no other.

“You’ve been acting so naughty.” he chuckled as he sent another smack to your pussy, this time holding your leg so it was impossible for you to hide your aching heat. “I’m going to fix this real quick.” he licked his middle and ring finger before pushing them in, his body leaning forward as his lips attached to one of your nipples, his other hand massaging your breast.

His fingers dug deeper, curling inside you, gently going over that spongy spot making you call out his name, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders.

His palm brushed against your clit adding to the friction, the pleasures he was making you feel becoming overwhelming. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten as you arched your back, your nails digging in his back. “Gonna come, shit, Jean.”

You whimpered as you released yourself around his fingers, your thighs shaking together.

He pulled himself up, licking your arousal off his fingers. He sat on his heels, approaching his tip to your entrance.

Before he could push himself in, you sat up and switched your positions so you could be on top of him. He gave you a questioning expression when you reached over to the floor to grab his belt and waved it in front of him.

You seized his wrists in your hand, wrapping the leather belt around them before tying it to the metallic headboard. “What are you even doing- oh fuck.” he whimpered as you rubbed his tip with your thumb, gently moving it over his slit.

“Be a good boy for me and stay still now hm?” you smirked sitting on your knees and bending over, your ass up and face close to his cock. You gave him a slow stroke, watching his mouth fall open.

You licked his tip teasingly, your hand still pumping his fat dick, loving how submissive he looked. You swirled your tongue around his pink tip then moved your head down, taking him down your throat.

“Shit,” he moaned throwing his head back, pulling at the restraint. You squeezed his balls, his whimpers getting louder. “Stop moving, or else I won’t let you come, understand?” He nodded rapidly, biting down on his lip.

Who would have thought that you would be ordering Jean motherfucking Kirschtein in bed? And holy fuck it felt mind-blowing.

You went back to sucking him, the sounds of your slurping and gagging combined. You felt him twitch in your mouth, his moans growing louder. You took it as a sign to pull away, an instant whine leaving his lips.

“No, no no please y/n, please, oh shit,” he hissed as you lowered yourself on him, coating his cock with your wetness. You felt him stretch your walls, his length burying itself deep in you.

You rested your hands on his legs as you bounced yourself, your previous orgasm and Jean’s twisted state making you dizzy all over again. He stared as your breasts moved every time you came in contact with his hips, his face reddening as if he realized the situation you put him into.

“Fuck you’re going to milk me so good. Gonna come so hard,” he grunted throwing back his head, locks of his brown hair stuck on his forehead from the sweat.

You were thankful that the music was loud enough to hide your moans and groans as you both got closer to your climax.

You ground yourself on him, your second orgasm ripping through your body, making you rest your hands on his chest for support. His mouth hung open as you tightened around him, clearly close to coming as well.

You pulled yourself up and bent down again to take him in your mouth. He bucked his hips up, his hands pulling against the belt once more, which was sure to leave bruises later on.

You felt him come in your mouth, ropes of cum going down your throat as you swallowed him. You pushed the excess that was on the corner of your lips in your mouth before you reached forward to untie his hands.

“Fucking hell where did that come from?” he panted, rubbing his wrists to soothe the burning sensation caused by the leather. You giggled and shrugged, grabbing some tissues to clean yourself.

“Guess we’re not as dominant as we thought we would be.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XXI

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The reader faces her past.

Note: We’re gonna keep going til this is over...hopefully ;)

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

You looked down the hill on the castle you grew up in. The road behind you didn’t seem as long as that before you, your destination not an hour away. You sat on a rock as Peter paced and muttered under his breath. You closed your eyes and thought of Elina. You knew she was safe with Zemo and that made the distance easier.

Before you left Heinrich’s Creek, you’d held her as long as you could. You kissed her all over and handed her over with tears in your eyes. Zemo promised you would see her again but you knew it was unlikely. He did too and he had never been one to lie for the sake of emotion. It struck you deeply and you kissed him just as desperately.

“So… we walk straight up to the gates and what? Hope for peace?” Peter asked.

You fixed the collar of your tunic and gripped your cane, “we’ll get her back, Peter,” you promised as you pushed yourself up. You were dressed as a man, it made travel easier and the two of you less conspicuous, “you have rope?”

“Rope? Uh, yes, but--”

“We’ll leave my horse up here. May will need it,” you said as you neared him, “get the rope.”

“Why--”

“Peter, we came this far knowing what needs to be done,” your chest stirred with dread though you were consigned to your fate, “tie it around my neck, get up on your horse, and take me down that hill.”

“I--”

“He can’t think I’m here on my own will, he’ll know. You make him think you only want your aunt and you leave with her as quick as you can,” you voice cracked and you inhaled deeply, “I’m doing this for my daughter. So she can live without men like him.”

“You don’t have to die for it. Zemo, he can help--”

“He can’t. Not swift enough to save May,” you shook your head, “we’ve taken long enough to get here. Now tie me up and let us go.”

He looked at you and shuttered. He frowned and went to his saddlebag. He took out the length of rope and you raised your head as he wound it around your neck quietly. He knotted it and you leaned on your cane.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he finished.

“No, you don’t have to be,” you said, “when we get close, if you see him, you yank on me. As hard as you can. Make him think I am as much your captive as she is his.”

“I can’t--”

“Peter, you have to be strong. I won’t have your aunt die for me. Not like your uncle. I lived, he didn’t. I owe you much more than you ever did me,” you uttered, “Now get on your horse.”

He hung his head and nodded. He mounted and wrapped the end of the rope around his hand. He nicked and set off along the path. You stumbled and limped behind him, your cane skidding over the stones and mud. It was well into fall and the land was cold and wet. You were careful on the incline not to slip and saved yourself several times with the wooden stick.

He kept looking back the closer you got to the gates and you hissed for him to keep his eyes forward. He could blow it all after everything. He pushed his shoulders back as he approached the guards at the wall and he stopped just a little away from them. They stood at attention and gripped their pommels.

“Who goes there?” one asked and the men shared a look of recognition before Peter could answer.

“Lord Barnes is awaiting his bounty,” Peter said stonily, “I have her but he must first return what is mine as he swore to.”

“This is her?” The man at the left side of the iron gates asked.

“It’s her, you dolt,” the other interjected, “you remember her, don’t you? And look, she’s all messed up from the horse.”

���Where is Lord Barnes?” Peter insisted.

“Aye, in a moment,” the man clanged on the gate with his mailed elbow, “Oswald, fetch the lord. Tell him Lord Parker has come for the crone.”

You shifted and leaned heavily on your cave. You focused on your breath as it threatened to quicken to panic. You had weeks, months to prepare for him but you could never be ready. You shook and struggled to keep afoot. You knew only cruelty awaited you, even if he did believe your lies.

It was a time before you heard anything more. Peter grew impatient as his horse spat and snorted in kind. At last you heard footsteps and suddenly Peter tugged harshly on the rope. You fell to your knees as he spoke, boots mulching in the mud.

“Lord Barnes, I have your whore,” Peter called out, “Where is my aunt?”

You looked up as you clutched your cane and felt along the rope at your throat. Your eyes met Barnes’ and time seemed to stand still. His hair was even longer than before, his beard too. There were threads of silver through both and his left shoulder was barren of its former attachment.

“You are fortunate I had the patience to wait on you,” Barnes growled, “your aunt is alive… though I cannot say she is happy about it. You give me my woman first and I’ll give you yours.”

Peter hesitated. “How do I know it is not a trick?”

Barnes raised his hand and signaled to some unseen person. There was a creak and more footsteps. May was dragged up in her stained shift, a patched cloak draped crookedly over her shoulders.

“See, she’s all here,” Barnes called, “Now you hand her over and I’ll do the same. Fair trade.”

Peter looked over his shoulder as you stood and you lowered your chin. It was a subtle nod. Do it.

A guard came forward and he bent to hand over the rope as the gate was opened with the crank. You were taken off your feet again as the armored goon wrenched you meanly and laughed.

“I will have you stripped and whipped if you do it again,” Barnes warned as he came forward, his hand on May’s elbow, “give him the old lady.”

He released May as you were led through the gate and as you passed May she glanced at you. Your eyes met and she knew. There was an unspoken and piteous gratitude in her eyes. You hobbled onward and felt fingers closed around your arm. You lifted your head as Barnes grabbed you and pulled the rope slipped from the guard’s grasp.

“Close the gate. Let the boy go,” he demanded.

He said nothing more and turned back and hauled you with him. His hand slid from your arm and followed the length of the rope as he wounded it around his knuckles. You barely kept up with him as your cane bounced off the ground and you walked unevenly beside him. His silence was unsettling.

You passed through the wide doors of the castle and he huffed as you staggered across the stone. He spun you suddenly and kicked your cane out from under you. The stick rolled away from you and he bent to scoop you up over his shoulder, the rope straining at your neck.

“You won’t be walking much,” he snarled as he set off up the stairs.

You quivered and grasped at the back of his tunic. His hand held your thigh firmly and he squeezed, as if making certain you were real. The fear bubbled in your chest and all your plans fell to the floor like your cane had.

He swept into his room and kicked the door closed. He tossed you down on the bed as he let the rope free and you bounced violently on the feather mattress. He was quick to follow and straddled you under him. His hand roughly felt along your cheek and lips, lingering on your scar as he stared at you.

“I thought…” he rasped as his eyes bore into you, “did you laugh to think of me mourning you?”

“No, my lord, I…” you croaked. You were that girl again, that maid, terrified. “I never--”

“I cried for you,” he sneered, “I buried you!”

“My lord,” you grabbed his wrist as his fingers stretched across the rope, “please--”

“Did he make a good whore of you? Huh? Did you prefer him to me?”

“He took me against my will. I was not aware even that he did until it was too late--”

“I know,” he hissed as he leaned over you, his hot breath scoured your skin, “I know about our child.”

“I…” you shook your head, “I-- I--”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t--”

“You know!” he shouted, “you know!”

“I don’t. Zemo… he fled when Peter got hold of me. Like the coward you know him to be--”

“Stop lying--”

“I am not lying, I swear it, my lord,” you pleaded, “you have me. You don’t need the child.”

“It is my child,” he barked, “mine. You would keep her from me as you kept yourself.”

“No, I cannot-- I didn’t run. He took me. I never asked for it--”

“You will tell me where they are,” he backed off of you and grabbed the loose end of the rope again. 

He flipped you and moved your hands to the middle of your back. He snapped at you not to move as he looped the rope around your wrists and struggled with one hand to pull it tight. He tested it with a violent tug that jolted your entire body. His fingers hooked into the back of your breeches and he ripped them down.

You yelped as he struck you with his hand. You kicked out and tried to stand. He pushed you back down with his foot and smacked your ass again.

“Stay,” he bid as he moved around behind you, “stay or it will only be worse… but I suppose it must be before you tell me.”

You twined your fingers together and pushed your head into the mattress as you braced yourself. You listened to him behind you and as he walked across the room. He opened the door and called to someone. You did not hear his orders, only the feet that shuffled to do as he wished.

He waited until they returned and the door closed heavily. There was a tap, tap, tap, as he neared you and you looked down past your shoulder at the sparkling head of your cane. He lifted it in his hand and rested it against your ass.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon when I said we would not need this,” he said.

He pulled back the cane and brought the wood down with a crack across your rear. You scream at the agony it sent up your spine. He did it again and your legs flailed helplessly.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you sobbed.

He struck you once more and asked the same question. You gave the same answer. The same thing, over and over. At least a dozen before he stilled. He brushed the wood against your bare skin and bent over you.

“I could have loved you. I wanted to,” he said, “we could have loved the child, too. Children… we could’ve had a whole litter.” He poked your ass with the cane as he stood straight and grazed between your legs with a hum, “Gods, we could just try for another right now.”

You closed your eyes and bit down. He withdrew the wood once more and his boot scuffed over the stone. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“In due time,” he said as he hit you again, “where the fuck is my child?”

You wept into the bedcover and thought of Elina. Thought of her in Zemo’s arms, the way she pulled his beard, and the way he smiled back at her, at you. You couldn’t tell him where they were if you wanted to. You never would. And if you suffered for it, Barnes would only suffer more. He would never know the only good piece of him to remain in the world.

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh

a/n: im a seijoh stan and theyre my little plant babies

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

this is so long oml i hate myself

theyre an actual boy band istg

lets be honest, they probably thought you were just another oikawa fangirl

they thought you just wanted to be closer to their captain bc you were another delusional girl who wanted to live out her fantasies

lmao im not trying to be salty

but when you just stared blankly at oikawa tooru after he called you a beautiful flower,

stageplay hinata calling you a mugwort

the team just about threw themselves on your feet

tbh you werent really there to get a boyfriend or for oikawa

you just needed an after school club and the other teams already had managers

the only sport that didnt was the boys volleyball team

imagine why

you were actually a little wary, since you knew of oikawa, being a first year yourself, and you were aware of his psycho fangirls who could probably kill you

but you needed a club that would last you for the next 3 years to graduate

it was kunimi who actually recommended being a manager

you were in his class and you noticed him sleeping in the morning so you gave him your energy bar

‘thanks’

you shrugged and smiled

thats why he tolerated you more than others

you were nice and you were the only one who noticed his tiredness, even the teacher left him alone, and did something about it

sometimes, you even gave him an energy drink

‘can you tell me why youve been so tired lately? i dont think ive seen you wake up until lunch’

he opened the snack and started munching while replying

‘early morning practice for volleyball is still a big adjustment. our captain demands us to be there 6 in the morning sharp and if we’re even a minute late, we’d have to run laps. like for every minute youre late, you have to run those amount’

oh my why is kunimi talking so much

but i love kunimi and first year seijoh boys rights in this household is valid

you furrowed your eyebrows

‘but yall are still growing and you need all your sleep. if i were there, id yell at your captain’

he grinned slightly, imagining your short height beating up their captain

‘meh. you want to be our manager? i saw you looking at the clubs board yesterday and we dont have one so you could take the opportunity and beat him up then’

ofc you agreed bc kunimi was best boi and you just wanted him to have enough sleep for once

after class, he waited for you to finish packing up and when you finished, yall left the classroom

until another guy with a spiky hairstyle joined you and you noticed him as the guy who sometimes came over to eat lunch with kunimi

‘oh, hello l/n-san’

you smiled gently

‘drop the formalities, kindaichi-kun. its only fair.’

he nodded before walking beside kunimi

‘kindaichi, l/n might be our new manager’

the onion head excitedly looked at you

‘really?! yes! so we dont have to fill our bottles ourselves anymore!’

kunimi glared at him and slapped his stomach

‘shes our manager, not our maid’

you laughed but placed an arm on him

‘its okay. i was a manager for my middle school volleyball team so i know a little bit about being one’

the two shared a look

god, they really hit the jackpot

as yall walked closer to the gym, you noticed the big pile of girls huddling at the corner

kunimi sighed

‘l/n, ill warn you ahead of time of our captain. hes kinda,,,, too much’

but you flashed him a smile

‘hes not the first one ive handled’

oml player-chan!!!

so when you opened the door and entered the gym and oikawa hit you with his normal antics, you just stared at him

‘okay and?’

hanamaki and mattsun howled before rushing to you and grabbing you in a hug

‘girls like her really exist!!’

you gave kunimi and kindaichi a signal of help and they nodded before gently prying the senpais off of you

‘senpai, please’

you gave kunimi a grateful nod

coach irihata went up to you bc wow, kunimi has a friend with of another gender?

‘how can we help you, miss?’

‘im l/n y/n, first year, and id like to apply as the manager’

internally, the coach sighed bc you werent the first one to apply

the reason they havent had a manager for years was bc of oikawa’s fangirls hiding themselves under that false facade

but he saw you brush off that comment oikawa make with no hint of fluster or blush on your face so he decides to give you a trial run, in guise of seeing if you could handle these chaotic boys

‘do you have any experience as manager? or do we need to teach you the ropes?’

‘i was a manager for 3 years in my middle school volleyball’

he nodded

‘ill give you one month. a trial run of a month to test the waters’

you agreed and your trial run began

kunimi mentioned that morning practice starts at 6 am sharp so you set your alarm for 5 to get ready and get to school on time before the boys

you remembered how to set up the nets so you quickly put them out (using a step stool bc we short) and ran to get the basket of balls

their water bottles were filled and you were in the middle of lugging the big basket of towels when the third years entered

the 4 of them usually came earlier than the rest so they saw you dragging the basket of fresh towels and wipe your sweat before smiling at the work youve done

iwa was so happy bc it was usually him who did this stuff and now that he had someone do it for him, it was like a god-send

oikawa’s eyes shone and he waved at you

‘yohoo, y/n-chan!’

you cringed at the loud voice of the famous oikawa tooru

‘hello, oikawa-san’

he chuckled at your politeness before hugging you

‘you did all this for us? youre so cute, y/n-chan!’

instead of the normal blush and love-struck eyes, you were actually very uncomfortable of the sudden skinship and you quickly ran to the side when iwa hit him at the head

‘shittykawa! leave her alone!’

‘iwa-chan!’

makki and mattsun stood next to you as the boys did their usual fight

‘is this all an act or are you really not attracted to oikawa?’

mattsun shot him a surprised look bc why was he so straightforward

but you just shrugged

‘hes cute, i admit. but ive seen much cuter and the boys in my middle school team was basically full of him so,,, and i hate guys who think theyre all that just bc theyre blessed w a pretty face. if anything, ill probably go for iwaizumi-san’

pop off S I S T E R!!!

you just won the heart of these two

slowly but surely, they all came to accept you and iwa straight out loves you bc you maintained this routine for the whole month of your trial run

and you still remained indifferent of oikawa’s advances and he was even impressed and slightly agitated that you werent paying attention to him

‘y/n-chan, one date! just one!’

you huffed before looking up from your clipboard

‘i like men, oikawa-san. not boys’

that comment made the guys shriek

‘y/n-chan! youre just a first year! you dont need a man!’

‘youre not a man, oikawa!’

you left oikawa to be tormented by his teammates and went to go and hand over the report to the coach

he was impressed by the notes you made bc they were ones he even missed

like the split-second of hesitation that kindaichi usually has that goes unnoticed but you immediately saw

or the wince oikawa has whenever he so much as jumps an inch

you could even tell the difference between iwa’s spike and if he was being easy or he was going full-out

this added on to the fact that the boys loved you and irihata actually saw kunimi try more 

but he thinks its only to earn your praises

‘y/n, youre officially the team manager’

yall celebrated at the normal hang-out spot which was the ramen shop and it truly shocked you at how much these boys ate

granted, this was the first time you ate together but you didnt expect them to eat nearly 5 bowls each

you could only finish 2 and you already feel like throwing up

‘honestly, how do you guys not gain weight after this?’

the table you sat at, iwa, kindaichi, mattsun, and kunimi, looked at you and shrugged

‘i work out’

‘i run’

‘i fast’

‘i poop it out’

lmao im sorry i cackled too hard at this

you stared blankly at mattsun’s answer who said it so seriously that you snorted a laugh

they watched you and your laughter bc you havent really expressed yourself as much 

so they made it their goal to see you laugh more

‘y/n-chan! you need to eat more!’

oikawa shouted, clearly food drunk, but you shook your head aggressively

‘i only planned to eat one bowl but he just had to shove another down my throat’

‘but you need to grow, y/n-chan!’

‘i want to grow taller! not wider!!’

As a manager:

oh boy

you basically grew into kinda their mom

‘oikawa-san! you need to rest your knee or youre going to hurt yourself! i will drag you home myself!’

‘kunimi, if you try to get this one more spike, i’ll buy you a bag of those caramel bites you like’

‘iwa-san! if you hit oikawa-san too much, youll destroy the little braincells he has!’

‘yahaba-san, nice dump!’

‘is your knee okay, watari-san?’

yall really forget that watari and yahaba exist sometimes smh

it was part of the work

keeping up with seijoh

so to keep them encouraged, you gave them praises that they always demand for and they always turn to you whenever they did something good

mattsun gives you a look whenever he blocks iwa’s spikes and you give kindaichi a head pat whenever he blocks some too

bc of how you are with them, sometimes, they forget that you are actually just a first year

they get shocked whenever you walk in with kunimi and kindaichi and talk about the current homework bc it slips their mind that their hard-working manager was actually just a 15-year-old girl

so, they try to ease the burden whenever they can

like iwa offering to help you whenever you have to take their jerseys to the laundrymat

or offering to help you with your assignments since theyve only been through it once

more like watari, yahaba, and iwa bc the matsuhana are clueless and acts like they completely skipped that grade

also

!!!!

oikawa’s fangirls ltr dont leave you alone!!!

now, its known that youre the manager of the volleyball team bc oikawa has boasted about your efforts and such

this obvs ticked off a bunch of girls bc they were jealous that you got to spend more time in a single practice with their precious oikawa-senpai than they have their entire lives

more than once theyve cornered you to threaten you to stay away from their senpai or youll have something coming for you

you never take them seriously bc you can fight too and you just give them a look and push them away

but this one time

TRIGGER WARNING-START

okay tea

the self-proclaimed president of the oikawa tooru fanclub, kenta miyo, cornered you at the bathroom with her other minions

you were just washing your hands and drying them off when she marched up to you and grabbed your hair before tugging it back

obviously you were surprised and shouted

‘oi! what the hell?!’

‘you slut! you need to stay away from my tooru, got it?!’

ehm what

you hissed and wrenched her arm from your hair and pushed her away

your hair was now a mess and you were fuming, already sick and tired of the torture these girls put you through

‘he belongs to himself, not you! so stop being delusional and leave me alone already!’

she signalled for the girls to hold on to you which you slapped away but they forcefully grabbed your arm while you kicked at them and struggle to get out of their hold

jesus what do these girls eat

miyo watches you struggle with a smile and cackles

‘oh? no fight anymore, little kouhai?’

you glared at her

‘i dont want to beat yall up bc id get yelled at by tooru so you need to let me go or regret it’

at the mention of his first name, her eyes widened and her face twisted and she slapped you

‘oi! respect your senpai, you brat! dont you ever say oikawa’s first name!’

your lips curled

‘oh? thats funny, because he actually told me to call him that since he wants his cute little manager to be very comfortable with him’

you achieved a feat that she has been working to get her entire high school life and miyo was not happy

‘ive been with him for 3 years and you just suddenly show up out of nowhere and call him that?! i dont think so!’

she had her hands around your neck and you gripped her arms, making her wince

but you laughed at that comment

‘heh, thats pathetic, isn’t it? here you are, my senpai, who has been vying for his attention for 3 years only to be ignored yet a mere first year, who shows up out of nowhere, has been asked to a date nearly a million times every day. that must be tough’

she shrieked at that comment and threw you on the floor, making you accidentally hit your head at the edge of the sink

yall im actually so bothered by this scene and im wincing as im typing

you bit your lip to prevent any sound of pain to escape bc you knew thats what she wanted to hear from you

but you werent going to give her the satisfaction

instead, you looked up at her, hatred swirling in your eyes

‘youre freaking psycho, you know that? once tooru and hajime knows about this, theyre going to give you hell. they wont ever let this go bc im the manager of their prized team and their little baby sister. so go ahead, do what you want with me. bc i paid too much for these nails to be tainted by dirt like you’

saiyo, a girl you noticed to be watari’s classmate when you went and visited him, nervously tugged on miyo’s jacket

‘miyo, we should go-’

‘SHES BLUFFING. AND HERE, SINCE YOUR SOCCERFIELD FOREHEAD IS BLEEDING, LET ME HELP WASH IT OUT’

and she poured over a carton of banana milk over you, making you wince at the sticky and cold liquid

the tough facade was crumbling and you were now screaming for help in your head, hoping that stupid theory from yahaba about team telepathy to work

but it didnt

TRIGGER WARNING-END

when miyo and her girls left, you sat on the floor, soaked and sticky and bleeding

then you begin to cry angry tears

you were angry that you were being treated like this just bc you were a manager

you were angry that you let them do that to you

you were angry that you prized your nails more than punching her square in the nose

you were just angry

periodt

staggering on your own feet, you stood up and leaned on the sink, eyes widening at the dripping red liquid from the gash on your forehead, staining the porcelain sink

you were stupid and unconsciously touched it making you wince 

‘shit, that hurts’

you whined quietly

there was little you can do with toilet paper and water to clean yourself up but you managed to at least stop the bleeding

you knew you had to be put on concussion protocol just in case bc you that hit was quite hard but at the moment, that wasnt your concern

practice has already started and this was the first time you werent present for daily practice

this was confirmed at the constant buzzing of your phone in your skirt pocket which you didnt listen to and instead, started thinking of ways to go to your locker and get your stuff and fake being sick but at the same time, not be seen and relayed to the team

time was ticking and you had to come up with a plan fast before oikawa will send the team to come looking around the building for you

once you looked at your reflection and smiled big, you decided it was enough to not show the pain you were in right now

girl im hurting for you

you peeked out of the bathroom door and saw the coast was clear so you quickly ran to your classroom, which was thankfully empty, and quickly grabbed your things

but as you were packing up, the tears just kept falling

it didnt stop as you bolted down the stairs, using your cardigan to hide your face from the public

once you were safely out of school grounds, you finally took out your phone and reviewed through all the worried and concerned texts from the team group chat

but you just replied, ‘im fine but i just feel really sick right now. girl stuff’

you smirked, knowing that would keep the boys away

but oikawa had to go and ask you to call him

‘y/n-chan! do you want oikawa-senpai to come over with chocolates and ice cream?! wings or no wings?!’

your jaw dropped at the question and clearly scandalized by the question

the team was too as shouting began and you could faintly hear iwa scream, ‘oh my god, shittykawa!’

‘im seriously okay, oikawa-san. i just need to be alone right now and ill try and get some sleep. good bye’

then you hung up

there was no way you could tell them

they were in their last year anyways so doing something about it wouldnt matter

and you were strong 

but apparently not strong enough to fight them off though

you would cover the wound with concealer and continue on with practice tomorrow as if everything was normal

but there was only so much you could take

just yesterday, they trashed your locker and a week ago, they took your bento and threw it away

you even got into a fight with this one girl but she scampered away, too scared to do anything alone

so you were actually just tired and want everyone to leave you alone

believe me, youve thought of quitting sometimes

but youve actually created a bond with these boys

like when you take hanamaki to get cream puffs whenever he loses against iwa in arm wrestling

or when yahaba calls you at ungodly hours to express his worries for next year and to fill oikawa’s shoes

it was simple moments that you shared with each player that kept you from not leaving

soon, you found yourself crying again and the looks pedestrians were giving you was starting to make you uncomfortable

a girl, with her gross hair in a bun, puffy eyes with a bleeding wound and walking down the street

that was a sight

so you cut a corner to an alley by your house to escape from the judging eyes and you were too busy wiping your eyes to see a boy who was crouched down on the floor and ended up walking over him

omg my baby kyoken hello luv!!!!

you gasped and you were surprised and quickly apologized

kyotani was originally about to yell at you, no matter what, but he saw the state you were in and concluded you were either from a fight or was beaten up

he recognized that and decided to just glare at you and go back to feeding the stray dogs and cats

you breathed a sigh in relief when he didnt yell at you bc that wouldve been the last thing you needed today

‘sir, im sorry for hitting you. if there is something i could do for you, dont hesitate’

he ignored you and you focused on him paying attention to the strays

going into your backpack, you had a milk carton and a sausage stick from earlier

you used your thermos lid to serve as the milk bowl for the cats while you peeled open the meat and used your scissors to cut chunks of it for the dogs to have some

kyotani watched as you went into action to feeding the animals that people usually ignored

he knew you

well, he recognized you

when he watched from the top of the gym, he saw you as their manager who ran around and helped everyone

sure, he still didnt trust you 

but he watched you grin and smile as the animals started to eat

‘im in a hurry right now so i have to go but ill feed you again tomorrow, okay? you too, stranger-san. ill bring food for you too’

then you stood up and ran away, probably in a hurry to fix that wound

he wouldve offered to treat it for you but he remained silent, watching the cats mewl at the now empty lid

the next day, oikawa was worried for you and when he saw you at early morning practice, he practically glomped to your side

‘y/n-chan! you okay?! oikawa-senpai was so worried for you!’

you cringed but nodded

‘im okay, oikawa-san’

‘senpai, y/n-chan! call me senpai!’

‘im not going to feed into your kink, oikawa-san’

*cue everyone busting a lung*

to this day, no one still knew what happened to you

you kept it quiet and you were sure you got everything handled

except for one person

kyotani was smart and for some reason he knew you got beat up by the fangirls and the perpetrators were easily found bc he saw them huddled around your locker, probably trashing it again, and lets just say, 

no one is def going to mess w you now

back to manager moments!!

during practice matches, the boys rally around you to prevent other teams from sweet-talking you

they make sure no one gets past them and always have excuses to get your attention

you knew what they were doing but you pretended not to, heart warming at their protectiveness and hunger for your attention

even though you have your own jacket, the team gives you theirs all the time like oikawa has his special team jacket w his name at the back and when he feels threatened by schools like johzenji, he makes you wear it

‘youre mine, y/n-chan and i want that blondie to know’

‘ehm, no, oikawa-san. im iwaizumi-san’s’

oikawa screamed

lmao training camps w them is CHAOTIC

YOU WANT TO CRYYYYYY

OIKAWA IS CRYING BC IWAIZUMI IS BEATING HIM UP, MATSUHANA ARE FREAKING OUT THE FIRST YEARS ABOUT THE GHOSTS IN THE WOODS AND NOW KINDAICHI REFUSES TO LET GO OF YOU, WATARI GOT LOST GOING TO THE BATHROOM AND YAHABA IS SCREAMING ABOUT THE WEATHER MESSING UP HIS HAIR AND MAKING IT FRIZZY

reminder: threaten to quit everytime they get too much

your hugs are the best!!!!

you have a special hug for every player

oikawa gets his favorite which was the normal arm around the waist with your arms around his neck while he snuggles in your neck

iwa gets flustered easily so you hug him from behind so you cant see his flustered look

mattsun actually likes the jumping in the air so he catches you type of hug

makki is more tame and has his arms around your shoulder with his chin on your head

yahaba is the twirly kind where he just picks you up and swings you around

watari also gets flustered easily so he likes the one-arm hugs

kindaichi gets blushy at the slightest touch from you but he gives you a hug from behind you himself where he can bury his face in your hair while you caress his arms

kunimi, now he likes it when you squeeze him extremely tight bc it makes him feel loved and feel alive

kyo doesnt even talk to you what makes you think you can give him a hug

their lost for shiratorizawa really broke them though

you made them their own bentos for nearly a week to keep them encouraged and gave oikawa extra attention to keep him from sulking or practicing late

‘oikawa-senpai, lets go watch that new movie later’

‘S-S-SENPAI?!’

then the arrival of our baby kyoken

yahaba was moody the whole practice and you were currently trying to keep him from spiking a ball to someone

‘even just today, he’s late’

‘who?’

‘that stupid dog’

he just keeps mumbling and grunting

and then the said dog arrived

you peaked out from behind iwaizumi, who protectively went in front of you

shock ran through you and you pointed at him

‘puppy-kun!’

lmao puppy what

youve called him that since he refused to tell you his name, but you call him that bc he paid special attention to this one baby beagle

he raised a hand in greeting and you gave him a smile

‘youre a player here, too?!’

he ‘glared’ at you but nodded stiffly

the team really thought that he would lash out at you but he is surprisingly tolerant

the power of the manager

he still hasnt talked to you but he does respond to you and even helps you with chores, still not talking ofc

hes so tsun tsun and he deserves my heart yall

however, youve heard him talk to iwaizumi, and iwaizumi only, so youve heard his voice before

ngl, you were flustered by how gruff and deep it was

then their loss to karasuno

bruh, it was KARASUNO

the entire team fell apart and after the match, each of them ran away from you to stop lashing out

you were also on the verge of crying, seeing the broken look on your third years

your precious third years

you decided to give them their own space but you heard a loud banging sound from the bathroom

yahaba and watari were outside, clearly trying to talk to someone in there on coming out but it got louder

okay you were lowkey like, ‘hm, i should not be here’

but you recognized that voice

you knocked at the boys door to be respectful

‘kyo-san? its me, y/n’

he was silent but he did unlock it

you took this as a sign to enter and you gave yahaba and watari a smile

‘i’ll be fine. go to kindaichi and kunimi. they need your comfort right now’

tbh, you were surprised the bathroom was still intact but you saw the stall door at the very end being rattled and shaken

you remained by the door but you wanted to go to him

‘kyo-san, please come out so i can treat your injuries’

he expected you to say those words like ‘its okay’ or ‘theres always next year’ but you didnt

instead, you knew he was hurt and wanted to help him

he continued to give a few punches to the wall and the door before emerging

you wordlessly treated the wounds and offered your hand

‘im here, kyo-san. dont worry, im right here’

at the ramen shop, you told them to eat as much as they want and wordlessly gave them your card, slightly crying inside bc you know this was going to be like over a hundred dollars

but you were treating the boys bc they deserved it

you sat beside kindaichi, who was just sobbing and apologizing, so you were wiping his tears and holding his hand under the table

this precious babie

bruh i was sobbing when i watched this part like uuggghhhh

after dinner, you walked with the other third years, knowing they would go to the gym, so you gave everyone else your special hugs before sending them home

‘text me when you arrive safely, okay?’

‘yes, mom’

‘KINDAICHI WHAT’

oikawa’s speech made you cry bc despite only knowing them for not even a year, you already feel like a family

you didnt want your family to be broken but you knew they would all go their separate ways eventually

there was a big hug pile of third years on the side where you took a picture and sent it to the group chat

you had to eventually go home after helping them clean up and when you checked your phone, a fresh batch of tears rolled down

each from every person on the team but with the same sentence and same words

‘we love you, l/n y/n. thanks for everything.’

ngl i dont think this was that good and its like 8 in the morning and im extremely tired

i want to do karasuno, nekoma, and fukurodani but im so exhausted i cannot right now