#did they clear it out for hunters to stay when needing a place

[jackandclairearesiblings]

SPN except instead of the bunker, they move into Bobby's house after he died and make it their own

[targaryenluvs]

Can you make a fic with a dark coriolanus x reader

Post Lucy running away where he stays a peace keeper for some time and he helped reader avoid being picked for the games and he abuses his power as peace keeper against reader whom he helped and holds it over her head (she has no family but her friends are like family) and he does all types of fucked up stuff to her sexually and he fetishizes her for being a woc (reader is a woman of color) and he fetishizes her skin or something and he keeps saying all creepy stuff and he then marries her (after convincing her no one would want her after him) and parades her around and shows off to capitol ppl who also fetishize her and she becomes basically his property with a creepy nickname and you pick the ending

BROWN JEWEL

pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!poc!reader

summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

warnings: obsession, abuse of power, nc touching, threats, forced marriage, fetishisation of skin color?? non-con (p in v), public sex, pregnancy, forced marriage, jealousy of infants? kisses, kinda stockholm/reader gives in

wordcount: 3.1k

a/n: audibly gasped reading this rq (i did change it around a bit since some of it i was unsure of how to write and if i felt comfy doing it) i went off track for sure

this was your last year for being involved with the reaping.

just tomorrow then you'd be in the clear for the rest of your life.

you had friends who relied on you, and their families which were practically your own. you’d been raised with them after your parents passed and you owed them your life. you were an amazing hunter and your game kept them going. you were skilled with hunting, medicine, literate because of your best friends mother. you helped them all in so many ways and you knew they needed you.

through your older years, you began to realise you weren’t exactly the same as your friends. their light skin and light eyes in contrast to your darker tones were always a reminder of your unshared bloodline. yet they never treated you any differently.

you had to live for them.

so it was how you ended up in the tree line by the peacekeepers barracks. hoping to bribe one into pulling your name from the bowl before it was placed infront of the justice building. what you didn’t expect was for a soldier to find you first.

“what’re you doing here?” he spoke from behind you as you stumbled to get up. “i... i wanted to talk to someone, to try and uhm, get them to do something for me.” he exuded confidence with his chin in the air and his grip on his gun. he obviously thought he was better than you. “what do you want me to do for you?” you sighed, “i was hoping, to get my name taken out of the reaping bowl.” he tilted his head, a smirk on his face and you wanted to peel your skin off with the way he was looking at you.

“come closer.” and you did, stepping into the moonlight. he found you to be gorgeous, glowing. “i’ll do it.” your eyes widened as you smiled, “thank you!” and he took a step closer to you, “but what will i get in return?”

and that’s when you should’ve run for the hills.

at the reaping ceremony, he coincidentally placed himself right next to your row. his stares were harsh on your back. your hands were sweating and you couldn’t think straight until that name was called, and it wasn’t yours.

“we’re safe.” your friend whispered into your ear as you smiled at her, “yeah, we are.” but for some reason you weren’t convinced. the peacekeeper was on you like a shadow ever since the day before. on the walk home he was following you and you knew it, but if you confronted him you had no clue what he’d do to you. so you felt it best to keep your head down, and get home. you didn’t expect for him to barge his way in.

“what’re you doing?” your voice was shaky and you could feel the perspiration on you, for someone reason this man made your body go haywire and you wanted to leave. “why? can’t i come see the pretty girl i saved?” your head was facing downwards as you began to mumble, “my names only in eight times, my odds were low anyways. a lot of people took tessera.” you heard him click his tongue, tutting and shaking his head in disagreement, “seven.”

he was right infront of you now, and as he bent down to whisper in your ear, you froze up, “i don’t do things for free y/n. when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect.” he held your face in his hand as you asked, “what’s your name?” he smiled, “coriolanus, but you can call me corio.” and he held you to it.

every time you saw him he’d be unbelievably smug.

even your friends noticed, “he keeps staring at you, that peacekeeper.” you were having a night out, your senses flooded with music and laughter. but not too far away was coriolanus, downing his beer. you shifted around before slyly looking his way. “it’s probably nothing. you know how these peacekeepers are. i think i’m going to head home.” you kissed her cheek before making your way out and to your home.

you were only a few minutes away when you took notice of the shadow behind you, lurking. “y/n.” you stopped in your tracks and turned his way. “corio.” he grinned at the nickname you used. his expression should've warned you, his words rung through your mind.

an intoxicated man was a dangerous one.

"when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect."

corio held you against the shabby wall as his hands held you in place. your pants swamped at your ankles as he rutted into you harshly. “stay quiet for me yeah?” your hands shoved at his chest but it seemed to be pointless.

“please, please corio not here.” coriolanus couldn’t bring himself to listen to you, and he sure as hell didn’t care if someone saw. what were they going to do? you were his, you needed to realise that. the quicker you did the easier it would be for you. your cries and protests went in one ear and out the other, “shh, i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he cooed, ignoring your pleas.

you felt humiliated, treated like trash. taken in an alleyway like a whore, as coriolanus continued on. your legs felt like jelly and your weight rested on the wall behind. his hands came up to lower your shirt, your breasts spilling out. “fuck, you’re made for me. all mine.” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

“come for me baby. come on.” you didn’t want to, you wanted to run away from him but your breath was laboured as your head lolled back. but even with that he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more. he wanted all of you and he wouldn’t stop until he’d had enough. you weren’t sure if he’d ever get his fill.

your cheeks burned as you walked back to your home, cum-stained panties and shame filling you to the brim. acquaintances walked past, you smiled and waved with fake kindness. your feet dragged along, your legs shaky and hands trembling. you wanted to drag the walk out as long as possible.

coriolanus could tell, but he couldn’t do anything yet. so he grit his teeth and walked with determination.

he’d punish you later.

and it was all you knew. almost every night corio crawled into your home, took you all over the house till dawn. and in return you were able to provide your family with everything they could want.

dana has a cold?

the medicine was at the front door hours later.

peter hurt himself at the mines?

a first aid kit was ready to be picked up by noon.

not a single person around you was hungry, sick or uncared for. all thanks to coriolanus. your friends were able to infer where all your resources came from, but you’d never asked for their aid.

you just wanted to help them, in any way you could.

what you didn’t anticipate was coriolanus in your home, tossing your nicest clothes into a suitcase. the jewellery he’d bought, shoes etc. “what’s going on? why are you packing my things?” he didn’t respond, he just kept packing, moving around the room and throwing in things he deemed important.

“we’re leaving, back to the capitol. you’re coming with me, now help me pack.” you grabbed his wrist in a moment of anger, forgetting your place. “let. go. now.” he demanded as you retracted your hand, “i’m sorry. but, you need to talk to me. i’m not going to the capitol corio, this is my home.” you should’ve known he was going to hate your words.

he grabbed your wrists, fingers digging in as you cried out in pain. “you are coming with me, otherwise i am more than happy to hurt you. all the supplies for your friends? gone. you know i won’t hesitate to hurt them. so if you want them to be taken care of, you’ll listen to me. now pack your things and shut up.” he spit out as you pulled away from him.

you didn’t even get to say goodbye.

the capitol scared you to no extent. the prying eyes, the excessive, almost wasteful, wealth and resources. you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. the people of panem viewed you to be a rare phenomenon. as if darker skin was unattainable. it was nothing like district 12, and you knew you’d never fully fit in. but corio wouldn’t let that be.

coriolanus thrived under dr gaul. overtime he’d been provided with an apartment and inheritance courtesy of the plinths and he was happy to indulge his sweet girl with whatever she could wish for.

the most expensive silks, finest jewels. you felt like a little porcelain doll, with multiple faces. you were bound to crack.

by the time coriolanus snow rose to be the president of panem, all the fight in your body was a distant memory, a shell of your former self. "you have everything you could ever wish for," according to your husband, "but you still think of them." his words were filled with disdain but held an ounce of truth.

your heart yearned for home. for peters terrible cooking. for dana’s flower crowns. nights out with your friends singing your heart out before sneaking out to the lake a certain covey had let slip on. a simple life.

but it all felt to be out of your grasp, far in the back of your mind.

presidential campaigns, parties, shopping, and super rich kids with nothing but fake friends. it was all your new normal. the residents of panem tolerated you for being the first lady of panem, admired you for your looks, and despised you for your background.

you’d never felt more alone.

you found solace in your children. ciron, your baby boy. only five years old but undeniably bright. he was ahead of most children his age in studies, able to remember so much in such a small mind. he was the spitting image of coriolanus. the old coriolanus. curly blonde hair, striking blue eyes. but his kindness, his care for others? that was all his mother. he was the perfect mix, and a huge mommy’s boy. the second he learned something knew he rambled on about it, only to you. he loved to play with your hair, curling it around his fingers.

“now we match mommy!” he smiled as you picked him up, resting him on your hip. “now i’m almost as pretty as you baby.” you teased as you attacked him with kisses on his face. he squirmed in your arms, small hands coming to cover his face. the noise seemed to wake caroline, her squeals and cries echoing through the home.

“shh, we have to be quiet okay?” ciron nodded as the two of you made your way to her nursery. it was caroline’s first birthday today, and coriolanus had spared no expense on your account. the celebration was to be held at your home, filled with people who couldn’t care less. but you just wanted to give her what you never had. a party at the presidents house was rare, and a lot of the hadn’t seen you in a while.

caroline was all you. darker skin than ciron, olive like. brown eyes and dark hair.

during your pregnancy with ciron, coriolanus showed you off to the people. you were regularly seen out and about, at parties, shopping, walking etc. coriolanus took any opportunity to parade you about to the people of panem. something out of their reach but so sweet, so beautiful. you despised it, being seen as nothing more than his property.

“she’s a fine girl you have coriolanus.” grandma’am spoke as she pinched your cheeks, “just have to take the district out of her.” as if you were an animal to be dissected.

“are there any more of her type?” the man joked as coriolanus’s hand tightened on your waist.

you’d always loved yourself, your hair, your skin color, your body. but it all seemed to be under coriolanus’s ownership the second you’d allowed him to take you to the captiol. no one cared about you. no one bothered to help. they just admired and touched when they could.

so you’d plead with him, begging him to let you rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. he surprisingly agreed, letting you confine yourself to your shared room.

and with cirons birth, you felt hope. his wide eyes, consuming all he could with his sight, his tiny fingers wrapping around your finger. your heart swelled with joy at his face, your saving grace.

coriolanus wanted to pry him from your fingers. for the next few weeks your attention was purely on the boy and coriolanus began to feel neglected. he was already traumatised from his own mothers passing, his sister taking her life. with the announcement of your own pregnancy the thoughts poured in.

would the baby take you too?

would he be forced to listen to your screams?

would he have to raise the baby he despised?

he hadn’t even met your child yet and he'd already made his mind up. the baby was no good, an heir was needed of course but at the cost of his wife? would he pay the price?

your screams of agony and pain clawed at his throat. he felt sick, bile rising as he forced it down. coriolanus would not be seen as weak. but he couldn’t help himself, your hands clutched onto his as a lifeline. your pleas for aid, and coriolanus could do nothing. helpless.

the finest doctors in panem, machinery and medicine yet it all seemed useless.

to you it was worth it, the second you held him in your arms. all the pain in the world if it meant you’d have him as the outcome. one of the nurses placed a pair of scissors in his hands, urging him to cut the cord as coriolanus masked his disgust.

snip!

tigris cooed over the baby as lethargy hung over you like a cloud. “isn’t he the sweetest coriolanus?” all he managed was a nod, his focus on you.

his strong wife, who’d given way to new life. your eyes were fluttering close as you murmured, “ciron.” the doctors and nurses gleefully agreed, “what a fine name!” the head doctor announced as he held him in his arms, a nurse taking him away to be cleaned.

and after all that, you were pregnant once more. another child for the happy family but another nuisance in his eyes between yourself and him.

all you ever cared about was the kids.

“has caroline eaten?”

“is ciron awake?”

“is his teacher here yet?”

“coriolanus, i think we need to take ciron shopping again. he’s growing so quickly!” he knew he should’ve been happy. but all he wanted was for you to be his again. you were always too tired for him, already asleep with ciron by your side, taking his place.

or you were breastfeeding caroline, meaning that he was sure he wasn’t going to get to feel you up that night. too sore, too tired, not in the mood. he couldn’t catch a break.

-

you’d decided to have caroline and ciron match. baby blue, how sweet!

it’d only been about an hour in and you’d had enough. these people never really moved on. the same comments about how special you were, how lucky you were. compliments stuffed down your throat you were sure you’d gag.

you grounded yourself with caroline, clutching onto her as coriolanus made the rounds. “anna!” you shouted out to one of your servers. “yes, mrs snow?” you refrained from rolling your eyes at the last name, “bring the cake out, now please.” she wasn’t sure, “mr snow said-” you smiled at her, “caroline’s getting fussy, better if we blow the candles out now so i can feed her and get her to bed.” she scurried away to get everything in order as coriolanus found you.

“sweetheart. you can’t hide the birthday girl at her party.” you chuckled, “i know, i know. she’s getting tired, we’re going to have to get the candles out early. cirons already sleepy too, he worked really hard today. i’m so proud of him.” you beamed as coriolanus took a sip from his glass, “oh did he?” he sneered. you were about to reply but the cake being carried out took your attention. “look sweetie! it’s your cake!” caroline lifted her head from your shoulder as you pointed at it.

“come on corio.” he downed his drink before following along. maybe if he was nice you’d fuck him tonight.

the four of you were a picture perfect family, cameras shuttered as everyone sang for caroline. she rested on your side as ciron stood in front of coriolanus, his hands resting on his sons shoulders. a smile plastered on his face. “happy birthday to you!” you bent down with caroline to blow the candles out as everyone cheered.

for once, you felt happy.

you sat infront of caroline’s crib, rocking it side to side. it was around 12 now, the party packed up, ciron in bed sleeping soundly, and coriolanus in his study. it’d been a while since you and coriolanus had been together. your pregnancy with caroline was risky according to doctors and you were told to take it easy. it’d been at least two months since his last time with you, and god he needed release.

once you figured she was asleep you made your way to corios study. “corio? you busy?” you peaked your head through the door to find corio writing away. “come in.” you closed the door behind you as he rolled back in his seat, patting his lap as you plopped down.

“you want something?” you rested your head in the crook of neck, roses infiltrating your senses. “m’ tired, wanna sleep with you.” coriolanus was taken aback for once, in his eyes you’d deprived him of your presence for so long and here you were wanting for him. coriolanus would have to settle for now. he caressed your cheek, “alright, come on.” his arm lifted your legs and you interlaced your fingers behind his neck.

over your time with coriolanus you’d learned to like things about him, since there was no point in you hating him anymore. his voice in the night, whispering to you. his soft hands washing your hair. when he was relaxed, the two of you would bask in eachothers presence, reading silently. baths together, his hands raking through your hair, trailing over your body with care. and as the two of you slept together, in a tight embrace, coriolanus felt at ease.

his brown jewel, all to himself.

[milkloafy]

STUCK WITH YOU — BLADE

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: in which you get sick and blade is wondering how the hell he got stuck having to take care of you. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: sickfic, fluff, swearing, gn!reader, stellaron hunter!reader, reader doesn’t like room temp water LMAO only ice cold, blade’s kinda mean but a softie trust me u.u ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.8k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: i haven’t written for blade in ages so i am very rusty but i hope u enjoy <3 this is a self-indulgent fic i wrote while sick and bed-ridden yesterday :c if any of y’all got the summer cold/flu too i hope u feel better !! :> 

You felt like shit and the last thing you needed was someone threatening you to get better. 

It would have been one thing if those threats worked in scaring your illness away. But you were certain that it did the opposite of help— It simply gave you an unwanted headache instead. 

“Can you stop glaring at me whenever I blow my nose?” you demanded with a sniffle, tossing your tissue into the trashcan Blade so graciously placed next to your head.

“Can you stop blowing your nose so loudly?”

You glared at him, responding by grabbing another tissue and blowing your nose even louder. You winced at the force, feeling a slight throb in your head from the overexertion.

With an ever-present scowl on his annoyingly handsome face, Blade shook his head at you. You could practically sense the disappointment and annoyance radiating from him. “Don’t make yourself feel worse.” 

“I’m not trying to,” you said, choosing to lay back down on your bed rather than arguing with him.

Your throat was sore, your nose was both runny and stuffy with no in-between, your muscles were achy, and your body was tired. There wasn’t much fighting spirit left for you to spare in your current state. Hence, the reason the Stellaron Hunters had Blade stay behind on the mission until you recovered enough to join everyone. Why they didn’t leave someone more personable and caring like Sam behind was beyond you. But you supposed you should be grateful Elio let anyone stay behind instead of having you recover alone. 

Coughing, you reached for a glass of water to moisten your throat only to find it already empty. You groaned to yourself, the thought of having to get up from your warm and cozy bed to fill up your water in the cold, cold kitchen made you shiver. 

With a sigh, Blade exited your room while muttering a quick, “Stay put.” 

You blinked blearily, eyes barely able to follow his quick-moving figure out the door. 

In a flash, Blade returned with two separate cups—one filled with clear water, and the other with warm tea. He set them both down on your nightshade, collecting your empty glass to clean in the sink. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, touched that he brought you drinks without you having to ask. You grabbed the glass of water first, letting out a giggle when you saw the single ice cube floating on the top. With a smile, you questioned, “One ice cube?”

Blade shrugged, a nonchalant look on his face that one could easily mistake as uncaring. “You don’t like room temperature water. If I brought warm water to you, you would rather die of dehydration than drink it.” 

A nodded sheepishly, unable to deny what came out of his mouth.

“Still, you need fluids to feel better. I figured one ice cube might be enough to satiate you.” 

Staring at the melting ice cube, you assumed it didn’t do much to help the temperature of the drink, but the thoughtfulness of your fellow Stellaron Hunter was enough to coax you into drinking it regardless. 

“That’s…surprisingly sweet of you,” you said, taking a sip of water. It was, in fact, not cold enough for you, but you still pushed onwards. “Thanks, Bladie.” 

The scowl on his face deepended. “Don’t call me that. And drink the tea. I put honey in it since its anti-inflammatory.” 

“Your frown lines are forming prematurely,” you jested, setting the glass of water aside to pick up the steaming cup of tea. The warm mug felt hot against your skin and you felt a droplet of sweat forming on the side of your head. In the blink of an eye, you threw the blankets off your body and fanned yourself dramatically with one hand. You shared a look with Blade. “It’s too hot for tea.” 

“It’s not too hot, you just have a fever,” he said with annoyance, walking over to the thermostat and turning down the temperature regardless of his words. “But you can wait for it to cool down then—” 

Before he finished his sentence, you had already taken a sip of the drink. Immediately, you felt a burning sensation on the tip of your tongue and jumped. “Ow!” you yelped, placing the mug down and glaring at it. “That’s hot!” 

Blade glared at you. “Tea is typically made from hot water. I just told you to wait for it to cool down.”

“But you said that after you told me to drink it!” you sniffed, nursing your tongue by dipping it into the lukewarm glass of water. “You can’t give a sick person mixed signals like that.”

“You’re sick, not incompetent.” He paused. “Not more than normal, at least.” 

“Hey!” you protested. At the sudden overuse of your voice, you felt your throat growing more irritated. You coughed and coughed, taking in deep breaths of air to stop yourself. 

He folded his arms as he scolded you, “Don’t overexert yourself. Get some rest.” 

With tears forming around your eyes from coughing, you matched his haughty expression. You croaked out, “You’re naggy. Did you know that?”

“Only to those who don’t listen.” 

“You tell me like a million different instructions! How can I listen?” you retorted, your headache coming back as your shoulders tensed in irritation. 

When he noticed your slight wince of pain, Blade sighed and relented. He walked over to the side of your bed and picked up the cup of hot tea. With a blank expression, he blew the surface of the drink, cooling it down until the steam went away. 

“Here,” he said as he held out the cup to you. “Now drink.” 

Your stared open-mouthed at the drink. You felt as if he was giving you whiplash with his crass words and caring actions. You didn’t quite know how to feel, but you knew you were at least a bit grateful. 

Carefully, you sipped the cup of tea Blade gently (and begrudgingly) placed in your hands. This time, you did not feel the scalding heat burn your tongue. 

“Thank you,” you said, chugging as much of the tea as you could. “It wasn’t hot that time.” 

He nodded in response, stepping away from the side of your bed once he confirmed you finished your drink. Blade studied you as you laid back in bed, closing your eyes to try to soothe all your ailments. It didn’t work, but you would certainly keep trying. 

Without the blankets covering you, you felt cold again despite the sweat you felt gathering on your forehead. You heard rustling and the clanging of glasses next to you.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Blade walking away with the dirty cups in hand, muttering something about how he wasn’t your maid. You smiled weakly, knowing he was doing his best to take care of you regardless of his bitching and moaning. 

Blade returned with a slightly damp washcloth in hand, folded perfectly into a compact rectangle. You sniffled through your stuffy nose, watching as he held out the washcloth to you, before taking it back last minute. Confused, you pulled your hand back as well. 

“I’ll just do it. Before you mess up somehow,” he said, leaning down by your side and placing the damp washcloth on your forehead. 

The instant he placed the towel on you, cool relief coursed through your body. You shivered at the sensation, letting out a noise of satisfaction. 

You peeked one eye open, looking at Blade with another sheepish expression. “Thank you. Again…” 

“You don’t need to keep thanking me.”

“I do!” you insisted, staying as still as a board despite the passion in your voice. “I know you would rather be out on a mission right now, following Elio’s script with the others. But instead you got stuck here taking care of me.” 

He folded his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s not your fault. Kafka forcibly volunteered me.” 

You chuckled lightly at that. It certainly seemed like something Kafka would do. Either to annoy Blade, tease you, or irritate the both of you just for fun. 

“You just need to get better soon,” he said as if it were that simple. “Then we can both get back on the field.”

“Is that why you’ve been such a good little nurse, Bladie?” you teased, touching your fingertips to the cool washcloth on your forehead. 

He glared at you, but there was no anger behind the expression. “Call me that one more time and you will see what happens.” 

“Will you bring me more hot tea to burn my tongue on?” you asked in mock horror. Despite his menacing-sounding threats, you knew Blade would never hurt you. 

“I’ll bring you room temperature water with no ice,” he promised blankly. 

Your mouth dropped in surprise and you shook your head fervently, the small towel falling off your face. “No, please! I won’t call you Bladie again.”

Blade rolled his eyes at your dramatics but immediately went to pick up the fallen washcloth. “Stop moving around like that. You’re going to make your headache worse.”

“Sorry, mother.” 

He scowled and plopped the washcloth back on your forehead, less gently this time than the first. You stuck your tongue out at him in response before feeling another fit of coughs come your way. 

Once you managed to soothe your throat and gather your breath, you sighed. “I hate being sick.” 

“Then drink more fluids and go to sleep.” Blade grabbed the glass of water from your nightstand and began to walk out with it. “I’ll get you some more before you try to rest.”

Closing your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself despite your discomfort. He had a rough exterior, but he surprised you with how much effort he put into helping your sick self out. 

His hidden thoughtfulness was enough to stir something in your stomach—butterflies, you hoped, and not an unwanted stomach bug to add to your list of ailments. It was unfamiliar to you, but certainly not unwelcome. 

Blade entered your room one last time for the night, bringing you a new glass of water with a single ice cube, and a fresh new washcloth folded to perfection. 

You giggled, noticing his attentiveness to detail. “Thank you, Bladie. I really appreciate all of this.” 

He sighed but didn’t argue when he heard that nickname. Thankfully, he did not take the ice cube out of your water and hand the glass to you lukewarm.

“You are so… You’re welcome,” he relented, replacing the damp towel on your forehead with a fresh and cold one. “Now, hurry up and recover.” 

“I’m trying,” you laughed, no longer annoyed by his impatience. “I’m sure I will, with you doting on me like this.”

“I don’t dote.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bladie,” you sang softly, your eyes finally feeling heavy after drinking more water and relaxing your muscles with the help of the cool washcloth. “I’m finally getting sleepy…”

He nodded. “That’s good.” 

“Mhm,” you murmured, your voice drifting into a sleepy mumble. “‘M tired. Goodnight… Blade.” 

There was a long pause before you heard Blade’s response while you drifted off into a deep slumber. “Get well soon, Y/N.”

[xan-izme]

Crybaby (Sully fam X daughter!reader)

Summary: Reader has always been a crybaby. Sensitive and had a soft spot for all living life. Jake disliked how sensitive you always were, he sent you out on your own for a month and came back a cold-blooded killer.

Warnings: Death, gore, mentions of death, mentally unstable reader, violence, Trauma

You were kind, sweet. Always looked on the bright side, you were on the same path as Kiri, training to become Tsahik. But it was clear you weren't as good as Kiri, which you were quick to admit.

That lead to Jake placing you with your brothers, training to become warriors. He wanted to tough you up, Jake loves how much you cherished love, he loved seeing the world through your optimistic eyes.

But ever since the sky people came back, he just needed his eldest daughter to be strong. Be there just in case he would leave this world a little too early.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Y/n, I need you to keep your balance! keep tripping like that you'll get killed." Jake's words hurt you, but you remember how upset he was the last time you nearly cried.

You inhaled sharply "Yes father." You stood up from the ground and faced your twin, Neteyam. He gave you a knowing look that wanted to know if they should stop, you shook your head lightly, not wanting to seem more of a wimp to your father then you already are.

You were an average hunter, your skills in fighting weren't that bad either.

But that wasn't enough for Jake. He needed to know that you were as skilled as Neteyam, as skilled as your mother was. So, it was always.

"Be faster"

"Hit stronger"

"Not good enough, try again!"

You would push your limit. Till you couldn't keep your eyes open. Your father would say words of gratitude here and there. Like small nods and a "Good work"

Your brothers sometimes feel like that's not enough for how much he makes you do. But just the smallest amount of approval from Jake made you feel like you were on cloud nine, causing you to do more, work harder.

Then one day, you were having a hard week, you were getting frustrated at the simplest things. Even your fathers nagging was annoying you.

When it came to training, you slipped up and made multiple mistakes that Jake just could not take it.

"Y/n, come now." Jake spoke calmly. You and your twin glanced at each other. You stood up with the help of Neteyam and followed your father.

The two of you walked through the woods.

"Baby, you know why I push you and your siblings so much, right?"

You nod your head, feeling a little nervous even if Jake was using his usual soft tone. "Then you understand--" Jake held you by your shoulders "--That this family, this clan is our fortress. And protecting this family is everything"

His words were deep to you, it was clear this was important to him. "And I need you to be strong. And training here hasn't been helping. So, Im sending you off. Away from here, so you can improve more on your own" Jake saw how your expression dropped "don't worry! It'll only be for a month. Ill check in every few weeks." He tried to reassure you. It didn't really calm your nerves down, but seeing how desperate he was to make sure you and the family was safe?

there was no way you could say no.

So, you left, you were on your own. The first few days were hard. And there were multiple times when you got seriously hurt and cried. God, you cried so much. All that crying made you hate yourself.

Hate every flaw you had. You even hated the soft part of you. Scolding yourself, knowing that kindness and your crying will not protect the clan, your family.

Jake did try to visit you. But you never stayed in one place. The two of you talked a little over the inner coms when you two would be miles apart. But those convocations didn't last.

You were training harder than ever. Perfecting every little thing down to the bone. In all honesty, you did go a little off from the safe zone, where you ran into a few sky people. You made it our alive, as for those sky people?

Well, you only let one live, still having that small kindness and mercy in you. Which was a big mistake.

You received a message from Norm and Max when they wanted to check on you, that a sky person bombed up a small part of the safe zone close to the high camp. No one was killed, but a lot were majorly injured.

Gaining all the details of the incident, you realize that it was the sky person you let live.

Cursing yourself and beating yourself for being so foolish, so naive for thinking nothing of what that sky demon after setting it free. So, you vowed to not give your enemy's any type of mercy, to kill all those evil demons, to protect you clan, your family.

Because this family was your fortress. And you were determined to be theirs.

Your month was over, and you were just so excited to go home. To hug and smother your siblings with kisses. To show your dear parents how strong and skilled you've become. To make your father proud of you. To officially be seen as enough to help protect everyone.

Norm gave you an inner com that was connected to your family, being told that your parents and dear twin brother were on patrol at the moment.

You decided to fly your Ikran to where you were told you parents and twin would be at. But when you were a few clicks away from them, you heard Lo'ak's voice. Saying he has gained sight of intruders. Ones who were carrying guns.

Dreamwalkers

You spoke into your inner coms.

"I'm closest to their location. I'll engage."

"Y/n-- wait, no! Y/n you better not!" Jake shouted.

"Y/n te i'tri Mo'ata Sully. Stay down! that's an--"

You turned your intercoms off. The safety of your baby siblings was the only thing you had in mind. It was almost eclipse, and telling by how the winds picks up and the clouds, it was to rain soon.

Your Ikran felt the panic and determination you were feeling and speed up to get to the location faster.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

You made it before your parents and twin could. You killed off every single dreamwalker. And that demon who took your mother's home away, who took Kiri's mother away.

The demon who caused so much harm to your clan.

"Any last words Demon?" you say, tilting your head as you held the sharp dagger to Quritche's throat. The Demon growled and spat in your face.

You weren't very pleased with that; you turned your head towards your siblings who were huddled against a tree.

"Spider"

The small human boy flinched by the way your voice sounded.

"Close your eyes." You said with a small fond smile. But it felt nothing like that. Kiri quickly brought Spider close to her and covered his eyes.

You looked back at Quaritche. The moment you slit his throat and began to detach his head from his body, was the moment Jake and Neytiri entered the scene.

Neytiri was quick to go by her younger children's side. Your ears perk and notice Jake. Once you laid eyes on him. Your face lit up.

"Father!" Youran to him and hugged him. Jake was in utter shock at the scene in front of him. He slowly hugged you tight. You pulled away, smiling, unphased by the amount of blood that was on you.

"I did it. I saved them. Look!" you pulled Jake to where Quaritche's dead body was and grabbed the head of the demon.

"I have killed him. I did it!"

Neteyam slowly entered and looked over what you had done.

"Mommy!" Tuk whined and was quickly embraced by Neytiri.

You were smiling, happy that you've finally rid your father of the nightmare that had burdened your family.

But when you began to see the look Jake had. You started to notice that was not the look of approval you hoped for.

"Y/n . . .What have you done?"

Your smile dropped, being replaced with confution

"Wha-. . .what? what's wrong? what did I do wrong!?" You didn't understand. Did you not put them down fast enough? Should you have taken out the leader before the others? What was it that was wrong??

"Y/n, baby. This--" He was pointing out to the bloody battle around them "--Is wrong. You tampered with their body's. Some of them are still bleeding out!"

"N-no! it's okay you see! I made it for them to not move at all and suffer their punishment." You tried to defend yourself. Tried to make your dear father know that it was okay. And that you did a good job.

Neytiri hurried the children to exit this part of the forest fast, including Spider. Neytiri didn't like Spider, but the boy didn't deserve to see all of this. None of her children did.

"That is not our way!" Jake yelled. Frustrated, worried and scared for his daughter in front of them.

Your ears pinned back. Feelings of sadness, betrayal and anger infecting your heart.

"Well, your way didn't work for me. You said so yourself! Why can't you just be happy!?" Your nose scrunched up in anger.

"I did this for the clan, for our family-- For you!" You were getting upset. All you wanted was the feeling of being called a Sully, worthy of the tittle as Toruk Makto's daughter.

"You can't do this. Your way will bring unbalance to the clan. And if you can't do that. . . then I'll have to strip your tittle as a warrior of this clan." Jake's words caused everyone to stop.

"Ma jake." Neytiri spoke, her eyes glancing between her mate and child.

You felt your bottom lip quivering. But your eyes refused to release the tears. You slowly backed away from Jake, nodding your head a little. Your eyes found its way to Spider who kept tripping, his legs still shaking from what he witnessed.

"Spider." You spoke up. The boy forced himself to look at you.

"Keep tripping like that. . . . . and you'll get killed."

[leighsartworks216]

Angel, Please

Zayne x gn!Reader

Went shopping with my roommate thinking it would be really quick, and then spent like an hour in there just pushing the cart for them and losing all energy and ability to think. This is the result of that

Title is from the song "Angel, Please" by Ra Ra Riot

Warnings: sensory overload, anxiety, avoiding a mental breakdown, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2,103

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You stare down at the shopping list in your hand, written in a mix of handwriting. Some items listed were written down by Zayne, others were added by you. A culmination of a week or so worth of groceries. It’s harder to read the words than it should be.

You have milk, cereal… You look back and forth between your cart and the list, but you can’t connect the dots. Nothing is clicking together.

Milk. Check.

Cereal. Check.

Your skin feels uncomfortably hot and itchy, but you don’t take off your sweatshirt and you don’t scratch. Your chest is tight, and you can’t seem to get a deep enough breath in. You zone out while staring at the list, urging your body to get a hold of itself.

“Excuse me,” someone scoffs as they invade your space to reach for something on the shelf behind you. They give you a look, judgemental and cruel, and walk away with a huff. Their basket bumps your cart with a clang that makes you twitch.

God, could they please turn the music down? The lights down? You just- You just need everyone to disappear. You just need to disappear.

You bite your cheek long enough to suffer through a self-checkout. You rapidly scan whatever you do have - more than just milk and cereal, but you don’t even process them anymore - and pay as quickly as possible, conscious of the eyes of other waiting customers trying to check out boring into you, judging you, urging you to just fucking move already.

The cool autumn air doesn’t soothe you enough. You throw everything into the trunk of your car. The pavement of the parking lot vibrates your hands as you push the cart to the nearest return. You rub them on your sweatshirt desperately.

You have to keep it together. You can’t break down in a parking lot at a grocery store just because all of your senses were freaking out. You are a Hunter! You fight Wanderers! You put your life on the line every single day! Why are you losing it here of all places?!

Your hands shake as you find Zayne’s number. It connects to the bluetooth in your car and you pull out of the parking space.

Are you really 100% fit to drive? No. But you need to get away from here as soon as possible. As tempting as it would be to ask to be picked up, you don’t want to be a burden.

“Hello?”

You swallow thickly. Your hands rub restlessly at the steering wheel. “H-Hey.” You clear your throat. “Hey. I’m heading home now.”

“Are you alright?” Zayne asks.

You want to put your head on the wheel and cry. You feel pathetic.

“Did something happen?” You picture his frown. The way his eyes sharpen when he tries to pick apart a little mystery. You want him with you right now. “Please answer me.”

“I-I’m fine,” you answer quickly, a knee-jerk reaction to the question. You know you’re trying to convince yourself. You know he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Just… Just stay on the phone with me until I get back. Can you…? Am I bothering you?”

He hushes you softly through the phone. “You’re not bothering me, darling. I’ll stay with you.” You sigh shakily. His voice sounds so nice right now. Your left leg bounces restlessly. “What do you want to talk about?”

You scramble to think of anything. You anxiously wait for traffic to clear enough to let you turn out of the parking lot. Your mind is taking in too much and too little information at the same time. Cars are just colored shapes, but you know where every single light source is around you. They keychains hanging from the key in the ignition rubs your leg like someone is drawing fire across your skin with a paintbrush. You try batting them away, but the jingle grates in your ears like it’s been amplified.

You pull into the flow of traffic, at last.

“Why don’t we talk about that show you enjoy so much?” he offers carefully. “The one with the girl caught in a love triangle? What was her Evol again?”

“She…” You swallow and check your speed. As badly as you want to get home, you don’t want to get pulled over either. “She can feel other people’s emotions. And, and in one episode she changes them, too.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Does she feel the attraction from the other characters? The men from the love triangle. What are their names?”

“Joseph and,” you turn on your blinker and wait at the stop light, “Damien. She can, but she feels bad because she’s not interested in either of them. So she pretends she doesn’t feel it.”

“So if she’s not interested in the prospective love interests, who does she like?”

You slowly pull up as a yellow arrow blinks, waiting for a gap in traffic to pull through. Once you’re driving steadily again, you answer. “She has a crush on her bed friend in the show, Melina. It’s really sweet, actually. But Melina has no clue, even though Therese, the main girl, keeps hinting at it, because Melina thinks Therese is interested in Damien.”

“That would be a tricky situation to be in. Who do you think she’ll end up with by the end?”

You laugh, but it’s slightly airy and strained, like someone punched it out of you. “I hope she gets with Melina, obviously!” You turn your blinker on again at a stop sign and turn after a second. This road doesn’t get too busy. “There’s actually some hints that Joseph and Damien will end up together. Everyone online thinks they’re competing for Therese’s love to try hiding their own feelings for each other.”

He doesn’t respond for a second. “Are you almost home, darling?”

You blink, and just like that, you’ve been snapped back into your body, aware once more of your surroundings. You’re in the middle of pulling into the apartment’s parking lot. You don’t even remember the drive to get there. “Y-Yeah. I’m here, actually,” you murmur.

“Okay. I’ll meet you down there. Do you need me to stay on the phone until then?”

You fiddle with the keychains, considering it. Everything doesn’t feel so itchy anymore. Your eyes hurt, but it feels more like the sting of exhaustion. Your head still thuds with a headache, but the noises that fueled it before feel more bearable now. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Call me again if you need to. I’m on the way.”

The call ends and you turn off the car, pulling the keys from the ignition and holding them in your lap. You feel surreal, like your brain hasn’t quite caught up to your body now that it’s not screaming about every little thing. The parking lot outside your window doesn’t feel real. The bike you parked next to, your bike, feels out of place.

You groan and rest your head against the steering wheel, shutting your eyes tightly. Why can’t you just feel normal already?

A finger taps on the glass. You look up and watch as Zayne opens the door for you. “Are you alright?” he asks again.

You bite your tongue to avoid answering automatically. But the real answer eludes you. You don’t think you’re gonna freak out if your sweatshirt happens to brush your neck in a weird way, but you’re not exactly sure you could just calmly ignore it if it did happen either.

You slip out of the seat and out of the car. Zayne has that concerned look on his face, like you’ve just told him you haven’t slept for a week straight, but he doesn’t say anything, just shuts the door behind you.

He opens the trunk and begins gathering messily thrown-together bags of groceries. You grab one of the lighter ones that he leaves for you, and close the trunk. The car beeps when you hit the lock button on the fob.

Once you’re inside, you sit at the kitchen island and watch as he puts away everything you got. You find the crumpled list in your pocket. You have the clarity now to see just how many items you missed, including things you needed to make dinner tonight. You want to crumple yourself up into a ball like this paper.

Zayne’s hand comes into view as he slides the paper over to where he stands. He has a notepad and a pen, and he goes down the old list to write out what you missed.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer until he finishes the list, clicking the pen and setting it down. Then, his full attention is on you. “Can you tell me what happened now?”

You can’t meet his eyes. It’s hard enough admitting actual health issues to him, let alone stupid shit like this. Logically, you know he’s seen this happen to you before, know he wouldn’t think it’s stupid like you do. But it’s still difficult.

“I just got overwhelmed,” you mutter. You trace shapes into the marble countertop. “Everything was so loud and bright and… And I panicked, that’s all.”

“How do you feel now?”

You sigh and cross your arms on the counter, resting your chin on them. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m tired. But I’m not? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I’m in a dream. Nothing feels real right now.”

He hums in understanding. “I can think of several treatment plans that may help.” You finally look at him and he shoots you a wry grin. “First, I suggest you take some pain medication for your headache, before it gets any worse. After that, you have a few options. You can go take a nap or spend some time alone to decompress. You can put on your noise-cancelling headphones and listen to music or a podcast. Or we can watch that show you told me about, and I can make you some tea.”

“That’s a lot of choices, doc.”

“It’s in the patient’s best interests to have a lot of options,” he says. “You’re not beholden to any one choice.”

You look away as you think about it. What do you want right now? What do you need? “Can I mix and match?”

He nods. “Of course you can.”

“Tea sounds nice,” you start. “I don’t want to sleep right now, but I can listen to music, I think. But I just want to be with you.” You look at him again. “Is that alright?”

He smiles, answering you without words. Instead, he moves around the kitchen to fill a kettle with water and sets it on the stove. He disappears down the hall to retrieve two pills and your headphones, setting both on the counter in front of you. He fills a glass with some water for you to take the meds. You grab the headphones and slip them on, and head over to the couch to get comfortable. They connect to your phone once you turn them on. You scroll through your playlists for a while, but the more you look, the more unappealing it sounds to you.

Zayne comes in with a steaming mug of tea, prepared how he knows you like it. You hesitantly take off your headphones. “Actually, will you read to me?”

“What would you like to hear?”

You shrug. “Anything. I just want to hear your voice right now.”

He browses the bookshelf nearby. You set your headphones down and blow on the tea to cool it down. He slips one of the books out and carries it over to the couch. You curl into his side the second he’s sitting down.

The book is one of your favorites. You’ve never seen him read it before, but he’s seen you pull it out lots of times ever since you moved in together. You smile. A comfortable warmth emanates from your heart.

The paper slides gently from one side to the next as he turns the pages. It’s not grating. It doesn’t send shocks of discomfort through your body. You cradle the mug close as you rest your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes relax as you skim the familiar words. His shirt on your cheek isn’t scratchy at all. It’s nice and soft.

He begins reading and you close your eyes. You breathe in deep the cool scent of his cologne, the fresh smell of his body wash, the slightly bitter, rich essence of the tea.

You can relax here. You can exist here. This feels real.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

You Love Me for Everything You Hate Me For

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cock warming; insinuated breeding kink

Summary: You knew better and Daryl would remind of that.

A/N: Inspired by @retroellie headcanon regarding submissive vs dominant Daryl and @thewalkingdilf headcanon on cock warming. 🩵

*gif is not mine

You choked on another whine, body vibrating with fine tremors of barely contained arousal and a desperation for relief. You had lost track of time, stretched and molded around Daryl’s cock buried to the hilt inside you. The hunter was on his third cigarette, taking ample time to enjoy each long draw while his sharp blues remained locked onto your face. 

How the fuck was he able to be within your velvety walls and remain completely still, completely lucid, completely fucking hard?

“Daryl, please.” You took the risk, bit the bullet, even after you were ordered to remain unmoving and silent. Turning his head to the side, he let the smoke billow from his mouth in a cloud that blocked his eyes from you for a moment. 

“Knew better than to wear that shit out where that creep could stare atcha like a piece’a meat.” In his defense, the skirt really had been a bit on the shorter side, barely covering the curve of your ass. Spencer had followed you around like a lost puppy, ensuring he stayed behind you. You weren’t stupid and neither was Daryl. You knew where the man’s gaze had been drawn. 

“You brought me the skirt from your run. I wore it for you.” You knew your backtalk would get you absolutely nowhere. Truth be told, you were probably earning yourself more time without the fucking you yearned to receive. 

You both were well aware that Daryl didn’t care one bit what you wore outside. It made him proud for you to show off. Everyone knew you were his, so completely and utterly and helplessly his. He just wanted a reason to toy with you, not that he needed one. 

“Don’t matter.” His index finger moved from where his hand rested on your thigh, flipping up the edge of the fabric in question the slightest bit. “Need remindin’ who this is for.” 

You did whine then, shifting your hips in the smallest motion to seek friction against your swollen, throbbing clit. His large hand left your thigh to grasp your hip tightly, squeezing in warning. 

“Don’t be a brat or I’ll keep ya here all day.” The cigarette was left hanging from his chapped lips so that his free hand could glide under your top, the rough pad of his fingertip carving a line over the swell of your right breast and down to your nipple. The little bud pebbled beneath his attention, your pussy clenching around him. There was a twitch inside of you but your archer’s expression remained indifferent. 

“God, Daryl, please let me move. I’ll be good, I swear.” Your hands left his shoulders to lay flat against his chest, itching to unbutton his shirt and feel his skin beneath your palms. “You can cum inside me. Fill me up if you want.”

His finger stilled over your areola, a dark brow arching. “That’s temptin’, sunshine. Real temptin’.” He moved his hand to your other breast. “Too bad I ain’t in the mood to bargain.” 

You fell forward, your face buried against his neck. You thought for sure that would break him. You knew the risks. So did he. Fucking a baby into you had been discussed but ultimately placed on the back burner. He wanted it. He’d made that clear. You wanted to give him that, a little family of his own, but Alexandria was just too new. You could always see it in his eyes, though. The subtle disappointment when he pulled from within your tight heat to empty himself on your skin. 

“Please! I’ll do anything!” You pleaded, sitting up to grind your hips down again. His hand squeezed your hip at the same time that he pinched your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Anythin’, huh?” His eyes met yours while he tilted his head, considering your offer. “Alright.”

The sound that burst from within you was the most desperate, embarrassing keen you’d ever let slip. Your walls hugged him again, preparing for the fucking of a lifetime. His smoke was dropped into a glass of water on the table, joining the ones that came before it. 

“What do you want me to do?”

The grin he gave you induced goosebumps all over your skin. “Wait. Wantcha to wait.”

[wandanatsgf]

Lovers, Vampires, Strangers Part 2

Pairing: Vampire!Wanda x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 2886

Summary: This story starts in the year 1850. You and your girlfriend Wanda are happy together. You have everything you could ever want, until she secretly turns you into a vampire. After a horrible accident, you leave her and that life behind. Now 173 years later, she's come to ask you for a favor.

Part 1

Part 2: 2023, The Second Shittiest Year of my Life

“What do you want Wanda?” I ask the girl who was frantically banging on my door.

“I need a place to stay for a few days, please,” she begs. It makes me laugh. She really thinks I would help her after what she did? She’s insane.

“No way,” I tell her.

“Please Y/n,” she asks again.

“No,” I say. “I’m not letting you into my home or life again, Wanda.”

I go to shut the door when a small bullet sized wooden stake comes whizzing through the air. It flies through the small crack in my door from where I haven’t shut it all the way. I hear Wanda yell out some cuss words, while I barely manage to dodge the bullet. I should’ve just shut the door and let Wanda fend for herself, this is her problem after all. But I, being the idiot that I am, didn’t.

“Fine you can come in,” I say, pulling the brunette girl inside with me. I quickly shut and lock the door.

“What the hell was that Wanda?” I exclaim as I run through my house, grabbing the first bag I see. I put the guns and knives that II keep hidden throughout my home in there, in case whoever is outside tries to go after me, since I too am a vampire.

“That was Natasha,” she says like that explains everything.

“She’s a girl I…used to be with. She’s a little angry is all.”

“A little angry?!? She just tried to kill you Wanda.”

“Yes well vampire hunters tend to do that Y/n.”

“What the actual hell Wanda. You brought a vampire hunter to my front door?!?”

“Not on purpose. I didn't know she was a vampire hunter when I was sleeping with her. And I thought I had lost her back in Budapest. Clearly someone is determined to kill me.” Wanda rolls her eyes as she talks, as if this Natasha girl is a mere annoyance, like a gnat or a fly, and not a hunter trying to kill her.

I’m so mad at her I don’t even know what to say. I finish gathering my things, but I leave my phone in case someone tries to use it to find my location. I make sure I avoid all windows as I make my way to the secret exit of my house that will lead me to the other side of town, the exit I had installed in case of emergencies just like this. I go to the bookshelf door I had installed and open it.

“Are you coming or not?” I call out to Wanda, who was currently just standing there. Wanda quickly moves to where I am, not avoiding windows. Which leads to them being shot out by Natasha.

“Great another thing I have to deal with,” I mumble under my breath.

“What was that?” Wanda snarkily asks.

“I said great that’s another thing I have to deal with. Because of you,” I add on.

“Oh please don’t act like your life was all sunshine and rainbows before I got here,” she says as I lead her down a staircase. “We both know you were lonely without me.”

“Really? I’m the lonely one?” I say. “I can assure you, Wanda I have been anything but lonely since you left.”

“You really think Kate Bishop can fill my place that easily?”

“And how do you know about her?” Wanda says nothing, but it’s clear she had been keeping tabs on me.

“I should’ve known you’d never leave me alone, Wanda. You were always the possessive type.” I turn down a corridor and open the door. I walk out and into open air. The passage leads to a road two streets over where my getaway car is stashed.

“I’m not possessive. I just don’t want anyone to have what’s mine,” she says. I chuckle under my breath, reading through her lie. I choose to ignore her and walk over to a car, praying that it’s unlocked. Of course it isn’t, but i guess when you have vampire strength it doesn’t really matter. I get into the car in no time and I make quick work of hot wiring it so I can get away, and hopefully leave Wanda here. I get the car on and I climb in, quickly locking the doors so Wanda can't.

"What do you think you're doing?" Wanda asks, clearly annoyed. She stomps her feet like a child and it makes me laugh.

"I'm leaving," I say through my laughter.

"Not without me you aren't."

"Yes I am. I got you away from Natasha, which you're welcome for by the way. Now I'm off to save my own skin. Now get out of my way or be roadkill Wanda. Your choice." Wanda refuses to move, much to my annoyance.

"Move Wanda," I scream out.

"No," she screams back. I can feel my annoyance rising with every passing second, and then Natasha runs around the corner, guns blazing. I unlock the car and allow Wanda to hop in before I floor it. I pull out of the parking space, driving away as fast as I can, leaving Natasha in the dust.

"Happy?" I finally ask once we have gotten a little further down the road.

"Yes, very." I can tell she is pleased with herself, something that I absolutely loathe. I choose to ignore her so I don’t blow up.

We drive for what feels like forever, and I being a vampire would know what forever feels like. So trust me when I say it felt like forever.

Wanda does her best to annoy me, but I ignore her every time, not in the mood for her games. Eventually I pull into a decent looking hotel on the side of the road. I’m not sure where we are, but we’ve driven for at least 16 hours straight and I’m tired. Well as tired as you can be when you’re undead.

“Here we are,” I say as I park the car.

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know. But we’re safe aren’t we? You could be a bit more thankful,”

“It would be safer if we knew where we are,” Wanda retorts.

“Well why don’t you work on that while I get us a room.”

“Fine,” Wanda says, for once not starting an argument.

I happily hop out of the car, grateful to be away from Wanda, and I enter the lobby.

“Hi I need two rooms,” I say to the front desk lady.

“I’m sorry we only have one room available.”

“Fine I guess that’ll work,” I grumble. It really doesn’t work for me but I’ll just have to suck it up…or sleep in my car. Honestly I’d do anything to not be near Wanda for longer than I have to.

“And how will you be paying?”

“I won’t be. The bill will be comped by the hotel,” I tell the girl. I look in her eyes and change the tone of my voice, activating my compulsion.

“Here you go,” the girl says cheerily, handing me my room key.

“Thanks.”

I walk back to the car where I had left Wanda to give her the bad news.

“Unfortunately they only had one room,” I grumble, throwing her a room key.

“Don’t sound so upset. It’ll be just like old times,” she says, sending me a wink. I let out a scoff at her words.

“I’d rather sleep on the cement than in a bed with you Wanda.”

“Fine have it your way,” she says. She gets out of the car and walks into the hotel and to our room. I try and make myself comfortable in the car, but it’s no use. It’s too small and too hot. I grab one of my guns that I had brought and tuck it into the waistband of my pants then I reluctantly go inside, bracing myself for the snarky comment I know Wanda is about to say.

“Aww I knew you’d change your mind. I’m just too irresistible.”

“God you’re so full of yourself. But no I’m in here because the car was uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with you Wanda.”

“Sure, whatever helps yourself sleep at night.”

God this woman is infuriating. I choose to ignore her last comment.

“So you’re not talking to me now?” I give her the silent treatment.

"Real mature y/n."

"Whatever Wanda. I'm going to go get us some essentials, try not to get into trouble while I'm gone," I say, just wanting to get out of here and away from Wanda.

"Aww sounds like someone cares about me," she teases.

"No I just don't want all of this hard work to go to waste," I say as I walk out the door. It's currently 10pm at night so luckily anywhere I go should be jut about empty. I drive to the nearest Walmart, leaving Wanda in the dust at the hotel. I get us some toiletries and snacks (because yes even though we are vampires and undead we still like human food). My next stop is a blood bank, where I steal as much blood as I can. I prefer it this way over drinking straight from the source. It's much cleaner and not so scarring to humans. After about two hours I make my way back to the hotel, carrying my shopping bags inside, only to find Wanda gorging herself on a member of the cleaning staff.

"Wanda," I yell out. She drops the maid and her face takes on a guilty look, like a child who knows they are doing something bad.

"Yes?" She tries to adopt a nonchalant tone but it isn't working.

"I literally told you not to get into trouble and the first thing you do is get into trouble."

"But I was hungry," she says, as if that justifies her actions.

"I don't give a damn if you're hungry Wanda. If I tell you to do something so do it."

"That's funny I don't remember ever taking orders from you, but you sure did take a lot from me," Wanda says, referencing the times when the two of us would sleep together, before I hated her guts.

“Well things have changed Wanda. I’m trying to keep us alive and away from your vampire hunter ex. So either listen to me or leave.”

“Fine,” is all she says. She goes off to the bathroom to shower while I heal the woman Wanda had just dropped. I compel her to forget anything had ever happened, and off she goes back to work.

I close the door behind her and I put my grocery bags down and put things away. After I’m done and had a snack and some blood, I tuck my gun out of my waistband and put it on the small side table. I jump into bed. The bed is rock hard. There’s absolutely no give or bounce in it whatsoever, but I guess an aching back is a small price to pay for safety.

“Move over,” Wanda says once I had finally gotten myself comfortable.

“No,” is all I say back.

“Yes. Move or I’ll make you move y/n.”

I refuse to move, ignoring the glares that Wanda throws at me.

“Fine have it your way.” She walks over to me and picks me up as if I weigh nothing. I try to resist, but it's pointless, and she moves me anyway.

"I'm older than you and I'm stronger than you. Next time it would be wise to do as you're told," she whispers into my ear. Her words have me blushing. A fact that I try to hide form her, but of course she notices.

"Did my words make you needy baby?"

"Fuck off Wanda," I say, but it doesn't come out as strong as I want it to.

"No baby I think you want me to fuck you, isn't that right?"

Her dirty words send my thoughts racing back to the times when we had slept together and how good it felt. But that was before she hurt me, and this is now. And now I don't like her. Even if she's gorgeous and makes me feel good. She's still the woman who turned me against my will. She's still the woman who hurt me, the woman I hate. So I form my resolve.

"No goodnight Wanda," are the next words that come out of my mouth. Wanda's mouth opens and closes like a fish, she's shocked that I didn't give in. I get up and turn off the lights and the two of us lay there in silence. I'm sure Wanda is seething in silence at being told no, but it isn't my problem. I quickly fall asleep, and I only wake up when I hear a loud banging noise.

The door to our room is kicked in, making us jump out of bed. In comes a brunette woman I don't recognize.

“Oh great and who’s this? Another one of your exes?”

“Actually yes,” Wanda and the woman sat at the same time. The woman walks closer to the bed, while Wanda and I try to walk further away without blocking yourselves in.

“Of course it is,” I say rolling my eyes. “How’d you piss this one off?”

“She may or may not be a vampire hunter also. So y’know when she found out about me she wasn’t exactly my biggest fan,” Wanda whispers to you.

“Really Wanda? You sleep with two fucking vampire hunters when you’re a vampire yourself. Are you stupid?” I whisper back.

“Haven’t I already proven that yes I am stupid.”

“I guess you’ve got a point there,” I say.

"Are you two done arguing now?" The woman asks.

"Yes Maria, we're done." Ok so Maria is her name. "Can you just get this over with," Wanda says, her tone sounding exasperated.

"Oh come on Wanda, I wanna drag this out. Hurt you just like you hurt me." Maria pulls the sleeve of her black jacket off her shoulder, showing off the scars that mar it.

"What the fuck did you do?" I look at Wanda, but there's no emotions on her face.

"What I had to do to survive." Wanda glares at Maria, but it's not the playful one she has been giving you all day. This is a true glare. The kind that says I want you dead.

Maria lunges and Wanda deflects her punch while you try and grab your car keys, which are all the way across the room. You almost make it, but then Maria grabs you by your hair, pulling you back. You claw at her arm, digging your nails into her skin. She shrieks and lets you go, turning her attention back to Wanda.

"How'd you find me anyway?" Wanda asks as she ducks under Maria's fist.

"Your little pet led me right to you. She wasn't as inconspicuous as she thought at that blood bank. I was just going to kill her, but then I realized she was with you, and well, I didn't want to waste such a delicious opportunity." Wanda's eyes turn a dark black color, something that only happens when a vampire is truly emotional, and strikes Maria, making the woman stumble. While she's disoriented I run to the side table and grab my gun. I hate using these things on humans, but if it means I get to live I'll do it. I aim for her leg and pull the trigger.

"That should keep her occupied for a while, now let's go," I tell Wanda. We both run out of the room, car keys in my hand. We both jump in the car, leaving Maria behind in the hotel room.

"Looks like being attacked wasn't my fault this time," Wanda says once our adrenaline has finally gone down.

"Well you still dated this one too so I'm sure this is somehow also your fault."

"Ok whatever you say," Wanda says, although I know she doesn't agree with me. "So we've got Natasha and Maria on our tails now, so where do we go now? With the both of them following us, there aren't many places that would be safe."

"I might know a place," I say. "It's like a safehouse of sorts."

"Why didn't we go there in the first place?"

"it's complicated," I say, not wanting to answer her question.

"Like how Natasha and I are complicated? Or Maria and I?"

"Not exactly," is all I say, and thankfully Wanda drops the subject. We drive for a few more hours until I finally turn into a driveway. The house before us looks like any other house in the suburbs would. There's flowers and trees lining the driveway and a little picket white fence around the house. You would never suspect that a supernatural creature lives inside it.

We walk up to the door and all I feel is anxiety. I had taken us to the one place I hadn’t wanted to go to, but it’s out last option. It’s the only place I know that would be 100% safe. So reluctantly I knock on the door, praying the woman who lives on the other side of it answers, and that this won't be another decision that bites me in the butt.

[cultofdixon]

Huddling for warmth

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • A blizzard occurred during the harsh winter after the farm and before the prison. You and Daryl got trapped in it and things didn’t go perfectly…• ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Nudity • TW: Hyperthermia / Minor Injury / Anxiety / Scars / Illness

Requested by: Anon

When the fire happened, everything changed. It came naturally that Rick became the leader of this group but everything was icy.

Now they were starting all over in finding a place to call home…or at least a temporary shelter for the upcoming winter

“Here” Y/N shrugged off her jacket giving it to Carl for an extra layer of warmth as the weather was getting colder for winter.

“She’s going to freeze to death if she keeps giving her coats to Carl and Lori” Glenn makes the comment to Maggie after she finishes getting a fire going in a house they were holding up in for the night. Little did he know the archer was listening to such.

About an hour passed and Rick returns with a deer that Daryl obviously got. But they also went through a few homes and Daryl approached Y/N who was leaning on Carol near the fire, dropping a jacket over her shoulders and didn’t stay for her to get a word in.

But he saw the smile on her face and that caused an old familiar feeling to burn in his chest.

“The winter will get worse and we should scavenge a few places before holding up for a good month” Hershel tells Rick while looking out at the snow that started to fall.

“I’ll get Glenn, Maggie, and Carol to come check a few houses with me. You and Lori can keep an eye on the rest” Rick stated adjusting his jacket and giving Daryl a look. “Think you can hunt some more game before the weather gets thicker?”

“I’ll try but the second the tracks ain’t clear, I’m coming—-“

“You ain’t going alone. Take Y/N. She has huntin’ experience. She’s hunted with you before” True. Before Rick returned from presumed dead, Daryl went hunting with his brother and the previous hunter before the Dixons came…also known as Y/N. But she didn’t join him on the trip before he heard his brother was left on a roof.

Y/N was ahead of Daryl following tracks they’ve caught on at the edge of the tree line by the neighborhood they’re held up in. He half expected her to be a chatterbox like how she was before the barn fire. But something always had to be off.

Before he could say anything to her, she readied her hunting bow and landed the shot on the unlucky rabbit.

Opportunity “Yea ever heard of a lucky rabbit’s foot?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t it usually have like…an amethyst with it?”

“Thought it was an amulet” Daryl questioned only to get a short lived laugh out of Y/N causing a hint of a smirk on his face.

She rises to her feet with the rabbit in hand brushing the hair out of her face to look at the archer. “You want the foot?”

“Sayin’ I need some good luck?”

“Dunno. You’re the one that said it” Y/N kept a smile on her face that soon faded when the cold breeze was a bit more intense than she expected. “Hershel said winters will be bad. Just. Didn’t expect that”

What was just a breeze seemed to pick up the more they trekked along in the forest…

“Have the winters always gone from mild to extreme?”

“You aren’t originally from Georgia?” Daryl brushed his hair back when the wind blew harder than before.

“That a deal breaker?” Y/N jokes only to suddenly trip and fall into the snow that’s collected since the morning. “Jeez. Maybe I need that lucky rabbit’s foot”

The crimson in the white became clear to Daryl as he knelt down to make sure she didn’t hurt herself to a certain degree. Thankfully just a scratch from the tree root they couldn’t see in the snow, which started to concern Daryl with how the weather started to pick up the more they were out there.

“We should head back. Or try to find our way back”

“Before it gets worse?” She added while cleaning up the blood with her bandana as it’s going to have to do until they can get a better look at it. “It’s already there”

“Our foot prints got swept” Daryl frowns knowing that would likely happen. He rose to his feet helping Y/N up as he tried to take a moment to listen to the surrounding but even the wind was picking up as much as the snow fall.

It got to blizzard level pretty quick.

“This is getting bad” Y/N had to shout for Daryl to register anything, but as they continued on through the blind scenery…the sound of something moving through the snow caught both their attention until the archer turned around.

No Y/N.

Daryl’s panic started to set in because on top of not seeing his surroundings. He had zero clue on where Y/N could’ve fallen or been dragged to.

The hiss of the wind continued to throw the archer off when he followed the trail before it disappeared right away. He quickly realized when he slipped falling on his ass that she had fallen…but fallen into the river they passed before the blizzard became more prominent.

“We have to be careful, Y/N” Daryl states gesturing to the river they were currently passing when the snow started to pick up in inches.

Y/N laughs at the man. “Okay captain obvious. We aren’t going to be able to see it later if this blizzard picks up”

“Hopefully not. We’ll be fine”

But we aren’t fucking fine! Daryl thought as he carefully made his descend toward the river and while the rushing water picked up in his ears…he couldn’t hear anyone.

“Y/N!” He screams and was about to step in the water when something grabbed at his ankle.

The new instinct was to take his knife out and plunge it into the water skull, but when he knelt down it came clear.

“Holy fuck. Thought I’d have to go swimming”

“I-I-It’s a b-b-bit c-cold” Y/N coughed out a bit letting go of his person to lay in the snow like before. The moment she felt into the water, she was wide awake and knew she had to get out. But the second her soaked body met the cold harsh weather, it brought her to this semi frozen weak state. Crazy how quick the body reacts.

“Can yea move?” Daryl shouts only to ensure that she can hear him but with no response only shaking breathing he could barely hear, he brought his arms under her armpits starting to drag her to the main path out of the ditch by the riverbank. “Think warm thoughts” he kept repeating even if every fiber of her being wanted to curl up and scream.

Y/N wanted to scream when the cold only got worse for her as Daryl brought one of her arms around his shoulders.

“We need to hide out somewhere”

“F-Fast” She gripped onto him trying not to succumb to the cold making her falter in her steps.

Daryl tried his best not to stumble because of how she was. His anxiety eventually got the best of him and he didn’t care if she’d protest getting him wet given her soaked person when he picked her up bridal style to get a faster pace going.

The two ended up in a small house nowhere near the neighborhood they were originally in. There was no time to question how they even got far from where the rest of the group is. Daryl had to barricade the doors to the room they were in and try to get a fire going to help warm up Y/N as she was placed on the couch in the living room shivering.

“R-Remind me, n-n-never t-t….s-shit” Y/N groans pulling at the soaked clothes on her person wanting to take them off as she hated the uncomfortable sticky feeling. But there was more going on and it started to concern her.

And the man that was currently trying to start a fire in the fireplace knowing he might have to move Y/N closer to the fire. The second it started, Daryl rose to his feet rounding the couch and pushing it closer enough for her to feel it. But even then it didn’t work in its entirety.

“Gotta strip yea”

“W-Woah. B-Bu…Buy m-m-me dinner f-first” Y/N scoffs in a playful manner listening to the man groan before he went further into the house scavenging for anything and found a blanket he had to shake out before even thinking of wrapping Y/N in it.

Daryl set the blanket on the arm rest. “Strip. I won’t—-“

“N-Need h-he—help” She coughed slightly after and Daryl instinctively pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. She was starting to get warm and not in a good way.

“Fine but I need your—-“

“F-Fuck Daryl! I-I-It’s fine!” Y/N snapped gripping the back of the couch to get her to sit up as Daryl brought himself beside her helping her get out of the wet clothes.

Her clothes laid in a pile beside the couch as Daryl was about to straighten them out close to the fire to try and dry, Y/N pulled the blanket over her shoulders more but manage to trap Daryl by bringing herself into his lap. She couldn’t speak given once the clothes were off she was even colder. The blanket wasn’t going to instantly help and the archer had been inside for some time that the snow melted off of his person so that she could do what she was currently doing.

The archer froze when she climbed into his lap curling up against him taking in his warmth and tugging the blanket to cover every exposed bit on her person. He didn’t look at her, for a sense of privacy. Not that she cared. There was something else but now wasn’t the time. Daryl carefully wrapped his arms around her bringing her close and eventually shifting his body to lay down with her trapped between him and the couch.

“…please pull through” Daryl whispers hoping she would respond even if it’s intentions were for her not to hear. But given she hasn’t said anything in a minute, got him worrying again. “Y/N?” He shifted slightly going to check her pulse but just the smallest movement jostled her eyes to open with a glare before closing once more and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

Y/N went in and out most of the night but her shivering stopped after a couple hours. She clung onto Daryl with a bruising grip taking in all the warmth he gave…he didn’t dare letting go for whatever reason afraid she freeze all over again.

But after being in that state for two days and her clothes dried eventually with the help of the fire…Daryl let go to help her redress keeping his focus on her actions as she fumbled trying to work the buttons of her flannel that he eventually helped her.

The archer wore his crossbow on his chest, the rabbits on his belt, and carried Y/N on his back still wrapped in the blanket on their way back to where the others were.

About halfway there, Rick and Glenn met them as they had come to a decision recently to go out and search for them once the blizzard passed…

“Is she okay?”

“She’s sick” You don’t survive freezing temperatures without a cold or flu to follow.

“Is she bit?” Glenn gestures to her ankle wrapped in bandages Daryl had.

“No, she fell. Fell once before falling into the river” Daryl states walking passed to make it to the house as the two who joined them kept an eye on their surroundings.

“You’re lucky we found some Tylenol on the run we went on when y’all went hunting” Rick states. “Should help with the fever”

“Hershel is gonna want to isolate her when we get back. Just in case—-“

“Don’t yea dare finish that, kid” Daryl snapped while pushing the door open with his foot as Rick took care of keeping it open for him to come through.

Out of instinct, Hershel rose to his feet gesturing to the other room to keep Y/N in even if it was the kitchen and Maggie laid a blanket on the floor before Daryl laid her down.

“Wish I had a thermometer to get an actual reading, but she definitely feels warm. I’m guessing you held up somewhere to try and warm her up to avoid hyperthermia” Hershel gave Daryl a look listening to him hum in response. “Well yea did good, son. Kept her from getting worse”

When she woke, Hershel got her to take some of the medicine they collected along with some water before leaving her to sleep once more. Daryl waited til the old man left the room before pushing the table in the doorway in case of emergencies. He sets his crossbow down against the wall kneeling beside her adjusting the blanket to cover her more watching her roll over to face him.

“Hey…”

“You can speak clearly now” Daryl jokes about the shivering stuttering mess she was before and that got a small laugh from her.

“Thanks for keeping me alive…” Y/N whispered shifting a bit to get comfortable on the floor as Daryl gently brushes away the hair in her face.

“Had to…I wanted to…I needed to” He whispered to her as he brought himself to sit on the floor keeping close to her watching her extend her hand from under the blanket to hold his.

Daryl stayed with her the entire time…the entire time.

[d0llcuries]

NOT SO MIGHTY WARRIOR

author's note: this is my first time writing an x reader fic so pls bear with my potentially odd/boring attempt at a oneshot. additional apologies if neteyam is out of character!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

pairing(s): neteyam x fem na'vi! reader

summary: in which you're his unexpected peace

you sat amidst a cluster of older gatherers without speaking a single word and occupied yourself with a new batch of obtained fruits and herbs. the older ladies sat with the younger and whispered happily about families and olden days. you were often in need of their comfort, as it was their calmness that steadied you and let you get on with your task at this unhurried pace. on the positive side, you felt, much as the young women loved the thrill of the chase and enjoyed being in swift movements and intense instincts of a hunter, your heart was always too tender for it.

you never liked the idea of pulling a bow and aiming for a target or stalking something simply for a meal and so you found your place amongst the gatherers of the clan. this was more subtle, a more sensitive role and you were quite happy in it.you looked and already there was a heap of gathered things next to your sitting body, a small assortment of bright colors — berries, medicinal herbs and soft-skinned fruits that you sorted according to their variety and ripeness.

the pattern of work was pleasant and you allowed yourself to be washed over by the soft babbling of the older women that surrounded you like a passing summer’s wind in the trees. this was a gentle and known moment, and you let yourself dissolve into it.

that was until you felt a shift, an unfamiliar energy entering the space.

you looked up, catching sight of neteyam walking toward the group. immediately, something felt off. he carried himself with the same grace and respect as always, his movements fluid and confident, but there was something in the way he held his shoulders, a tension you were not used to seeing in him. his jaw was tight, eyes sharp but distant, like he was working hard to stay composed.

neteyam was always the picture of poise—strong, responsible, steady—but today, there was a flicker of something else behind his usual calm. “good afternoon, everyone,” he greeted the group, his voice polite and measured as ever. the older women smiled, nodding in return, but neteyam’s gaze lingered on you. “pardon me.. but may i speak with you for a moment?”

his tone was respectful, but the urgency behind his words was clear. the older women exchanged knowing glances and waved you off with soft chuckles, murmuring something about young love. you felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, quickly setting aside the basket you were sorting through before standing and nodding to him. “of course.”

he led you away from the group, deeper into the forest, his usual silence feeling heavier today. you followed, feeling the tension rolling off him in waves, his quiet frustration palpable in the way he moved. how odd, you thought, how odd that he asked to speak with her privately. young na'vi like you would kill for an opportunity like this, to be singled out by neteyam, the perfect warrior, the one everyone admired. perhaps you should consider yourself lucky, maybe even honored. so why did your stomach twist with nerves, your hands suddenly feel too still glued awkwardly to your sides?

when the trees opened into a small, sunlit clearing, he stopped, turning to face you, his chest rising and falling like he had been holding everything in for too long.

“lo’ak... he got into trouble again.” the words spilled out, heavy and filled with frustration. you were not surprised when neteyam mentioned lo’ak had gotten into trouble again. lo’ak was always the one to test boundaries, his spirit wild and untamed, always chasing something bigger. despite his good heart, he acted on impulse, never quite thinking about the consequences until it was too late. you couldn’t help but admire his courage, but it always left someone—usually neteyam—cleaning up the mess. his hands clenched at his sides, his tail flicking behind him in sharp, restless motions. the calm, collected neteyam you knew was cracking before you. “i had to take the blame, again. father... he did not even ask. it is always assumed that i will handle it, that i will fix things.”

his voice was tight, bitter even. you could see it now—how the weight of being the eldest, the responsible one, was grinding him down. she looked at him, and she hated to admit it—clearly, in his moment of frustration, she should be serious, should focus on his words rather than how his jaw clenched or how his muscles tensed beneath his skin. but she was just a girl, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore how attractive he was, even now. his eyes sharp with irritation, and yet all she could think about was how unfair it was that someone could look so good even when they were angry. it made her feel guilty, so she bit her bottom lip in order to prevent a lovesick smile grom graving her face.

“lo’ak acts without thinking. he never considers the consequences,” neteyam’s voice grew softer, yet edged with a bitterness you rarely heard. “and i have to step in. i have to clean it up, face my father’s disappointment. no one... no one asks how i feel about it.”

his eyes darkened, as though the words had finally been let loose after being caged for so long. he turned away from you, looking down at his hands, his fingers tightening into fists. oh brother.

so you might have had a crush on him—every girl did! he was neteyam, after all, with that effortless charm and strength that made hearts race without him even knowing it. but right now, he obviously needed advice, not you daydreaming about grabbing him and kissing that stupidly perfect face of his, as riveting as that might be for you. yet. no, now was the time to say something smart, to get it through his thick skull that he needed to relax, because carrying all of this weight on his shoulders wasn’t going to do him any favors in the long run. you stepped closer, your chest aching at the sight of him so burdened.

“neteyam,” you began, your voice soft, your eyes filled with warmth and understanding, “you do not always have to be the one to fix everything.” he looked back at you, his expression raw, searching your face as if waiting for you to tell him something different.

“but who else will?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “if i do not, then...”

“it is not your job to bear all of this on your own,” you whispered, taking his hand gently in yours. his skin was warm, and it took everything in you to fight the squeal that threatened to rise forth from your throat at the mere fact that you were holding hands with the neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan. “you are allowed to feel frustrated, to be angry. it is not fair for everyone to expect so much from you.”

neteyam’s breath hitched slightly, his ears twitching at your words. his eyes softened just a little, like the tight knot in his chest was loosening, if only by a fraction. “but lo’ak... he needs me.”

“he does, but that does not mean you have to sacrifice yourself,” you replied, stepping even closer, your hand still cradling his. “you are strong, neteyam. the strongest person i know. but even the strongest need someone to share the weight with.”

his gaze fell to the ground, his expression caught somewhere between exhaustion and relief. your words seemed to hang in the air, softening the edges of his frustration. he blinked, as though your touch and your voice had calmed the storm inside him. but then, as if realizing how much he had let himself unravel in front of you, a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face.

his tail gave a hesitant flick, curling slightly behind him, and he let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar, sheepish way. “i... i did not mean to unload like that,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, his gaze dropping to the space between you. he was embarrassed—mortified, even—by his outburst. imagine, a sully, future olo’eyktan, standing there venting about his brother’s reckless behavior to a... gatherer? someone who simply looked after tuk and collected herbs? it felt beneath him somehow, like he should be stronger, more composed. but as much as he tried to justify his shame, it wasn’t that simple. she was more than that, more than just a gatherer in his eyes. did he—did he have a crush on y/n? uh oh. maybe lo’ak had been right all along, teasing him about how often his thoughts wandered her way.

the violet hue of embarrassment tinted his cheeks, and you could see the faint quiver in his tail as it stilled behind him. “i am sorry i-”

you smiled gently, stepping closer, your hand still lightly resting on his arm. “no, do not apologize,” you said, your voice filled with warmth. “you do not have to be strong for me.”

he looked up at you, his amber eyes softening even more, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let your words wash over him. there was something so vulnerable in his gaze, something so open that it made your heart swell. the wind rustled through the trees, and in the quiet of the moment, you could feel the warmth between you growing, like an invisible thread connecting you.

and then, as if realizing just how close you were, neteyam’s eyes flickered over your face, and for the first time, he seemed to really see you—the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, catching in your hair, the soft curve of your lips, the gentle rise and fall of your chest. as neteyam began to relax, his gaze drifted to how beautiful she looked, the delicate beaded necklaces around her neck, each one crafted by her own careful fingers. her top woven from flower vines, had been a gift from her mother, and the way it sat gently against her skin was almost too captivating. oh, he really shouldn’t be looking there—his breath caught in his throat, his tail curling behind him in the faintest of twitches. “you are... beautiful.”

your breath stilled in your chest, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your heart racing at the softness in his voice, the way his eyes lingered on you. but before you could respond, he quickly looked away, clearly embarrassed by his own admission, his tail swishing behind him awkwardly. “i mean, uh... thank you for listening to me,” he stammered, clearing his throat, “you always know how to make things better.”

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart full. “well,” you teased lightly, “it is my job to keep you from completely falling apart, is it not?”

his laugh was soft, but real this time, and the tension that had weighed him down seemed to lift a little more. and then, without missing a beat, you added, “perhaps, if you want to truly get your mind off things, you could take me for a ride on your ikran? i think it would be a fair trade after all that venting.”

his eyes lit up at the suggestion, his tail flicking behind him in excitement, but he quickly cleared his throat, trying to play it off coolly. “i suppose... that could be arranged,” he said, his voice trying to sound composed, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

you laughed, your heart swelling as you watched him slowly come back to himself. “then it is a deal,” you said, stepping back, your eyes twinkling with warmth.

word count: 1,694

if u have an criticism (constructive or not) feel free to voice it ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

[kaleldobrev]

Epilogue — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Joey Baxter (OC) & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (2x) & Age Gap (15 years)

Authors Note: Thank you to everyone for reading this series! I had such a great time writing this prequel! But don't worry! This won't be the last time you'll see these two 😉 | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | As always, thoughts are in italics and the “POV’s” switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 6

“Alright, everything’s all packed up for you?” You said, walking over to Dean once he shut Baby’s trunk.

“Yeah, got everything. You?” He asked, and you nodded. “Listen, I know I wasn’t your first choice for this hunt but —”

You held up your hand to stop him from talking, and he quickly shut his mouth. “I’m glad you came Dean,” your words genuine. “And Sammy was right.”

“About what?” He asked, raising a brow.

“That’d we’d get along great,” you smiled, and so did Dean. “I don’t know if you’re a hugger, but if it’s okay with you, could I give ya one?” You hoped that Dean said yes, as this was one of the only times you’d probably ever be able to hold him in your arms, even if it was in a platonic way.

He smiled, and held his arms out, seemingly receptive to the idea. “Lay it on me,” he said, gesturing you to come closer to him.

You chuckled a little, and walked toward him, wrapping your arms around him, his head automatically resting on the top of your head. The hug felt warm and comforting. Over the last couple of days with Dean, you had come to realize how safe he had truly made you feel, how the Winchesters in general made you feel. One of the last people that had ever made you feel this safe was Joey, and that was a little over five years ago now.

Dean didn’t want to let you go. He felt like he could stay in this position forever with you. It felt natural having you in his arms. He felt protective of you, even though he knew you didn’t need protecting. Over the last couple of days with you, he felt a sense of peace; the Mark wasn’t itching to let loose. He didn’t know how you did it, but you somehow managed to keep him calm, and keep him from drowning under the effects of the Mark. No one was ever able to do that, but you did.

Although he had just met you days ago, he felt like he had known you his whole life. He didn’t know what he felt for you, but he knew the feelings weren’t platonic by any means. But platonic was the only way that they had to stay. He couldn’t afford to lose you; he couldn’t afford to love you as much as he would like to.

When the two of you released, Dean cupped your cheeks gently, looking at you. “Dean…” you whispered, and he leaned down, kissing your forehead. Your eyes shut at the contact, and you felt like you were close to tearing up.

Looks like he’s the new me, you heard Joey’s voice say, loud and clear.

No one can replace you, you thought.

He might come close though, Joey said. You can’t deny what you feel for him.

I have to, you said. He’ll never look at me the way I look at him.

His touch lingered, and he knew it had been far too long; but you hadn't said anything to him. He wanted this moment to last forever — he didn't want to leave you.

As Dean looked at you, your eyes looked like rays of sunshine to him. "See ya around Dean," you said, a half-smile on your lips. And that's when you leaned up and kissed his slightly stubbed cheek; your lips finally touching his skin — a touch he had been longing for.

"See ya around Sweetheart," he said, smiling at you.

You smiled again, slightly wider this time compared to before; and turned around, walking to your truck only a few feet away. Dean wanted more than anything for you not to go. He needed you too bad. "If you boys ever need anything, or just want to...hang out...I'm a call, text, or drive away," you said.

"Same goes to you," he replied back, and you simply nodded in response. He genuinely hoped that you meant what you said, because he so desperately wanted to take you up on your offer, to desperately make up any excuse that he possibly could to be in the same space as you again.

Getting into your truck, he watched you buckle in, making sure you were safe on the road before him. You beeped your horn at him, and gave him a small wave as you exited the parking lot. Your wave, and small smile could make him melt on the spot.

You were gone for not even a minute and it already felt like an eternity to him. He sighed, slightly banging on the trunk of Baby with his fist before he entered her. "At least I have you," he said, as he patted the stirring wheel.

A Few Hours Later…

You pulled up in front of your apartment, and the anxiety was starting to kick in. You knew you had to break up with your boyfriend, but there was a part of you that felt like you needed to stick it out because he was the best you were ever going to do. He’s not worth it, you heard your mother’s voice. He doesn’t treat you right, she continued.

You knew she was right, she was always right. But you didn’t have a lot of options. It was either be with him, another hunter, or be alone for the rest of whatever life you had left. As much as being alone was starting to get more and more appealing, you couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like dating another hunter; specifically, what life would be like dating Dean. You sighed, snapping out of that fantasy quickly. Dean was never going to look at you the way you looked at him, or feel the same way you do.

Walking into the Bunker, a sadness washed over Dean. He had no idea when he would see you next, but he wanted that day to come quickly. It had only been a few hours, and he was already missing you. He needed to find an excuse to see you or talk to you again.

“Hey, how’d it go? She’s great right?” Sam said, interrupting his thoughts of you.

“Yeah she is. She does this weird ghost whisper shit that’s pretty impressive,” Dean said.

Sam looked at this brother with an impressive, and thoughtful look on his face. “Said she wasn’t psychic,” Sam commented.

“She said the same thing but, maybe there’s something there she doesn’t know,” Dean suggested. “Then again, Missouri said psychics develop by the age of 18, and she’s a little older than that. Not by much but…still.”

Sam tilted his head in thought, thinking strongly about his brothers comment. “She didn’t give you any trouble then I’m assuming? You’re still in one piece,” he half chuckled.

“Yeah no trouble at all,” Dean said, keeping his other comments to himself. His brother didn’t need to know how he truly felt about you. “You were right though.”

“Right about what?” Sam asked surprised.

“We got along great. Like, scarily great,” Dean grinned, thinking about you again. “Did you know one of her favorite movies is Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island?”

"What do you mean you're breaking up with me?" Your now ex said; his tone a mixture of confused, and a bit angry.

"It means I want our relationship to be over," you said, giving one of your smartass remarks.

He rolled his eyes at your comment. "Did the Winchesters say something to you?" He asked; and now it was your turn to have confusion on your face.

"Was there something your best friends were supposed to say to me?" You asked, now furrowing your brow.

"You can't break up with me because I'm the best you're ever gonna do," he stated, his words slightly flustered. He avoided the question; something that he was always good at doing. He thought he was smug, and believed in his heart of hearts that he was completely and utterly right. But the way you reacted was the way you normally did. Instead of sighing and 'forgetting it': you laughed. "What's so funny?" He asked, cocking a brow.

"You thinking that you're the best I'm ever gonna do," you stated. "You're no different than a lot of other hunters. Well, besides the Winchesters and Garth."

"Garth is barely even a hunter! I'm surprised he's still even alive," he scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Honestly, I feel the same way about you." Now it was your turn to make a bold statement. "If it weren't for me, you would have died on the same hunt we met on. Mind you, this is the same hunt you take credit for every single time we go to any hunter gathering."

"I saved your ass!" His voice was starting to raise; he truly believed in the lie that he had created.

"When?" You crossed your arms now, staring at him with a death glare.

Dean stared at his phone fighting the urge to call or text you. But there was a small part of him that was hoping your name would magically pop up on his screen. It's barely been half a day, and he already needed to see you again.

He didn't know how you did it, but you were somehow able to infiltrate his mind and make him think of you and only you. The thoughts of the two of you were the only things that mattered to him. He could smell your perfume lingering in his nose...the scent of your shampoo...and the softness of your skin against his. He could even distinctly hear your laugh and singing along to Zeppelin.

A smile crept up on his lips, and he began to hold the phone in his hands now. "Fuck it," he mumbled to himself, and began formulating a text to send to you.

As you sat in your truck with a few duffel bags of your things, you started biting your nails waiting for Sam to pick up. "Come on, come on, come on," you repeated, whispering to yourself.

"Hey Y/N," Sam said, and you could hear a small smile on his lips. "Did you get home okay?"

"Yeah um...I know this may sound like a weird question but um...remember a few weeks ago when you told me that I could crash at the Bunker for a while no questions asked?" you asked, hoping your voice didn't sound as upset as you currently felt.

"That offer still stands," Sam stated. "You need to stay with us for a while?"

You nodded, despite him unable to see you. "Yeah um..." you began, slightly sighing. "I know you don't need an explanation but, me and my boyfriend broke up and I really don't want to stay with my parents."

"It's honestly not a problem," Sam said, his smile continuing. "We already have a room ready for you.

"Awesome, I'll be there in a few hours," you said. "Thank you Sam, really."

“It’s no problem, I’ll let Dean know,” he said, before the two of you exchanged one final goodbye before hanging up.

After getting off the phone with you, he went to Dean's room, who was currently lying in bed either texting someone or playing on his phone — either option being slightly unusual for him.

Knocking on the doorframe, Dean looked up, almost startled by the knocking, and automatically threw his phone onto his bed. "What's up?" Dean asked, his voice sounding a hint embarassed.

"Y/N is going to be staying with us for a while. Her and her boyfriend just broke up. Wanted to give you the heads up," Sam explained.

"Where is she going to stay?" Dean asked.

"The one next to yours since that's the only bedroom that we already have clean and ready for whenever we randomly have guests," he said. "She'll be here in a few hours." He began to leave, but came back, popping his head back into the room. "By the way, don't say anything to her about the break up. I think the last thing she needs is for one of us to give her relationship advice."

Dean's stomach felt like it was starting to form in knots. He was going to get the chance to be close to you after all.

⬸ Go Back To The Beginning

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[wanderer-six]

Sleepless Nights

AN: Had an idea for the reader as the batch's Jedi General finding it hard to sleep when she's on Kamino with them (their room is probably so miserable and also the couch is the only open real estate LOL), turned into cute drabbles for every member of the batch! Enjoy ♥♥

Relationships: Did a drabble for every member of the Batch individually; established relationship for all of them!

Summary: You are the Jedi General for the Bad Batch. On a rare stay on Kamino, you find yourself restless in the Batch's barracks. You sneak away in hopes of making yourself sleepy, but with little luck. Thankfully, your favorite clone sweetheart finds you and does his best to help.

WARNINGS: They are all just fluff EXCEPT HUNTER bc he is a whore (fingering, dirty talk) - put him last in line to be safe/in case u do not want to deal with him (VALID)

Word Count: About 2k per boy, ~6.5k total!

Try as you might to fade off to sleep, you can’t do much more than stare at the ceiling.

In an event nearly as rare as a cool day on Mustafar, the Bad Batch had returned to Kamino for a brief stay. Though the visit wouldn’t last long—just enough time to refuel and restock—you now find yourself staying overnight in the Batch’s barracks. Since you’ve become their “de facto” Jedi General, they were kind enough to clear some space in their very cluttered room so that you had a place to sleep on the couch by the window.

And, as considerate a gesture as that was, the stiff Kaminoan furniture fails to bring you the same comfort as your bed in the temple.

Sighing quietly, you loll your head to the side, making out the room in the faint light. Unlike you, it seemed all five of your companions slept soundly. Tech had passed out, datapad in hand, while Echo slept bundled under a dozen blankets in his makeshift hammock. Hunter’s long hair was a complete mess, and Crosshair was about as quiet and stiff as a corpse. Wrecker, in contrast, snored so loudly that you weren’t certain how any of you ever got any rest. But even with how loud he was, the other four had all managed to lapse into their dreams, getting all the rest they needed before you were to set out in the morning.

So even among the odd ones out, you were odder, still.

Wearily, you rub your eyes, turning away to look up at the window. Little drops of rain flecked against the transparisteel, and watching them roll down eased your mind. When you were younger—back before the war—rainy days on Coruscant were something you looked forward to. Your master would kindly allow you to stay in for the day, trading your studies for many hours spent reading with a hot cup of tea at your side. Though you couldn’t enjoy such luxuries anymore, the rain still brought you a warm feeling of nostalgia… a comfort that could rarely be replicated.

It makes you wonder if such a feeling could be the cure for your insomnia.

With one last glance at your companions, you gingerly shed the blanket you’ve been resting under. Careful not to make any noise, you step into your slippers and get to your feet. Though the chilly temperature of the Kaminoan facilities isn’t exactly pleasant in your shorts and tank top, you grab your blanket and power through it. Having spent as much time on Kamino as you have during the war, you’ve found a few places that you like to run off to every now and then—and you know that the spot you have in mind will make powering through the cold more than worth it.

Carefully, you tiptoe through the piles of electronics, mementos and trophies that litter the Batch’s room, making sure not to disturb a single thing as you make your way to the door. When you reach it at last, you let out the breath you’d been holding. With one last peek over your shoulder to ensure you haven’t disturbed any of your friends, you open the door—closing it just as swiftly when you’re on the other side.

Though they remain lit in a blinding white, the halls of Tipoca City are largely empty at this hour. You’re more than thankful for that, since you can’t imagine the looks you’d get walking around in your pajamas. You wind through the corridors, eventually making your way to a secluded elevator. When you enter, the door closes behind you, and you’re lifted up to your destination.

The elevator releases you into a small, quiet room with a large overhang and a window open to the elements at the far end. You would describe it as a “viewing deck”, but it was unlike the Kaminoans to build anything for sentimental value. Even still, the room served such a purpose for you, and that was good enough. You walk inside, and the room darkens as the elevator door shuts behind you. Only the ambient glow of the grey, stormy night over Kamino remains, and you couldn’t appreciate it more.

You roam a bit closer to the exposed window, and just as the cool breeze strikes you, you stop. Gently, you take a seat on the floor, facing the open sky. You deeply breathe in the smell of the rain, filled with memories of better days. The raindrops strike against the metal roof, and for a while, you simply sit in silence. Bundling your blanket around your shoulders a bit more tightly, you pout—though you feel more relaxed, it seems sleepiness is still not in your stars. It’s frustrating to say the least, and you can’t help but sigh.

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to rest tonight.

After a short while, something catches you by surprise. Without warning, you hear the quiet hum of the elevator doors. You’re nearly worried that the Kaminoans have come to chastise you for sneaking off into some secret lab of theirs. But when you look over your shoulder, peering through the yellow glow of the elevator lights, you see…

WRECKER

… the large frame of Wrecker, who stumbles into the room.

The poor thing’s eyes switch between half-lidded and fully closed, and it’s clear from the way he wobbles as he walks that he isn’t fully awake. However, that fact obviously hasn’t dampened his resolve to find you—something that you find all too adorable.

“Wrecker?” you call to him. In the sweetest way, he perks up when he hears your voice.

“... little tooka?” he grumbles, referring to you by the adorable nickname he’d given you when you first met. Rubbing one of his eyes, he tromps over to where you’re sitting. Before you can say another word, he plops down beside you, swiftly burgling you into his lap. You giggle in surprise—more so when he wraps you up tight in his big arms.

“Wrecker…!” you beam, wriggling in his embrace until you’re able to kiss his cheek. “What are you doing up, handsome? It’s late!”

Wrecker heaves a heavy sigh, keeping you snug in his embrace.

“You… you were gone…” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek absently against your head as he speaks. “Missed you…”

His voice trails off into a quiet hum, and he sets a gentle kiss on your temple. You’ve always enjoyed being in Wrecker’s embrace—short of being a Wookiee, he’s the biggest and cuddliest man in the whole galaxy. But with the war going on, you often find yourself hugging him when he’s wearing his cold, hard armor.

Tonight, however, he has no gear to speak of. With him in his blacks, you aren’t separated from him by a layer of plastoid-alloy composite. You can feel the warmth of his broad chest beneath the soft fabric, and his muscular arms make you feel safer than anything. He gives you soft butterfly kisses all over your face, lazily petting your head. You smile softly—he treats you just as kindly as he treats his Lula.

“I’m glad you came up here, but… you didn’t have to come looking for me, handsome,” you assure him. “I would’ve come back to the barracks eventually. I was just feeling a little restless, is all.”

Wrecker nods slowly, though with the way his eyes are firmly shut, you have no doubt he missed every word you said.

“Yeah, uh-huh…” he mumbles. He pauses for a moment, drawing a deep, steady breath. “... I love you so much.”

With a bright smile, you kiss his cheek. “I love you, too, Wrecker.”

Those words, in particular, manage to break through his sleepy haze. He dons a big grin—one so sweet you can’t help but giggle.

“I just wanna hold you like this forever,” he sighs. For a moment, his eyes open, and with the sweetest, meekest tone, he asks, “Will you always be my little tooka?”

Your heart aches with overwhelming affection for your poor, sleepy sweetheart. Gingerly, you drape your arms around his neck, drawing him in for a long, loving kiss—one that you hope tells him you’ll always be his better than words ever could.

When your lips part, he smiles again, bumping his nose awkwardly against yours. You laugh, giving him one last quick peck.

“Wrecker… as long as you stay this sweet, I’ll always, always be your little tooka,” you assure him, resting your forehead on his. “And nothing will ever change that. I promise.”

Overwhelmed with love, Wrecker lets out a big, happy sigh—cuddling you even closer against his chest.

“Little tooka… you’re the best girl in the whole galaxy,” he hums with the utmost contentment, “I love you so much, it… it’s not even funny.”

Though you smile at his outpouring of affection, you find yourself yawning for the first time that night. Something about the way Wrecker holds you so close, the rhythmic way his fingers run across your scalp, the warmth of his body against the cold of the stormy night…

Against all odds, you think your sweetheart is just the one to coax you off to sleep.

The two of you sit quietly for a short while, exchanging sweet nothings to one another as the rain turns from a churning storm to a gentle shower. When your eyelids feel about as heavy as Wrecker’s, you look up to him with a smile, setting your hand on his cheek.

“Well, sweetheart… we should probably head back to the barracks,” you whisper. “We don’t want the others to think we’ve gone missing when they wake up.”

With an obedient nod, Wrecker gets to his feet—carrying you in his arms all the while. Just as tired as he was when he came up to find you, he hobbles back to the elevator, though not without a kiss on your forehead along the way.

Wrecker carries you all the way back to the barracks, and though you expect him to lay you back down in your spot on the couch, he instead keeps you in his arms all the way to his bunk. Even as he retreats back under his covers, he holds onto you, making sure you’re snug as a brindlebug when he settles down at last—and in Wrecker’s arms, how could you be anything but?

With you cozy against his chest, Wrecker smiles down at you, giving you one last kiss on the forehead.

“Goodnight, lil’ tooka,” he whispers, “I love you.”

With a bright smile, you nuzzle your head into his neck as you wrap your arms around him (well, as close to “around him” as your arms can reach).

“Goodnight, Wrecker… I love you, too,” you answer.

And at long last, you fall asleep—finally comfortable in the arms of the sweetest boy in the galaxy.

ECHO

…Echo, whose bright eyes soften when you meet them. Though he clearly came to find you, he looks almost shy as he enters the room, stepping softly as he approaches your side.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smile. “Of course, Echo.”

Reassured by your words, Echo takes a seat to your right, heaving a long sigh as he stares into the storm pouring over Tipoca City. At first, he keeps quiet, as though not wanting to interrupt your peaceful silence. But when you lean your head on his shoulder, batting your eyes at him with a kind smile, he finds his courage.

“Can’t sleep?” he guesses.

With a lazy nod, you sigh.

“Yup. Just couldn’t keep my eyes closed,” you lament. “Usually, listening to the rain helps me get tired, but even that’s not working tonight…”

Echo chuckles. He wraps his arm around your waist, drawing gentle circles on your side with his thumb.

“Yeah… I’m right there with you,” he says. “If it’s not nightmares about Skako Minor, it’s Wrecker’s snoring. Either way, I’m lucky if I can get any rest.”

You flash him a sad smile, dotting a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth as a means to share your sympathy. With all he’s endured, you know just how hard Echo has had to fight on and off the battlefield to keep himself afloat. He’s told you time and again how much your love helps, and you hope he knows just how happy you are to give it.

“Well… I guess we’re in good company, then,” you smile, nuzzling your face further into the crook of his neck.

Softly, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah… insomnia isn’t half bad with you around,” he chuckles. After falling silent for another moment, Echo hums quietly. “You know, back in my old battalion, my brothers and I had a game we’d play whenever we were up late and trying to pass the time.”

“What’s that?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“We would take turns naming as many planets as we could think of. If it was your turn, and you couldn’t name a planet, you lost,” he explained. The ghost of a smile formed on his lips, his gaze falling as memories of brothers long passed warmed him. “We used to go for hours. I don’t know that I ever won… half the time, I’d fall asleep before we even got to the end.”

The thought of young Echo, diligent and tenacious, spending long hours racking his brain for the name of just one more planet sent you into a fit of giggles. Echo’s smile warms beside you.

“What?!” he demands, hand squeezing your hip playfully.

“Nothing, nothing,” you insist. “I just can’t believe how cute you are, sometimes.”

Though a blush fills Echo’s cheeks, the bashful grin he wears below it lets you know your little compliments are working.

“Heh… I know you’re just trying to get my guard down so I might go easy on you,” he teases. Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, go easy on me?” you scoff. “I spent years memorizing planets at the temple. You should be hoping I’ll go easy on you.”

Echo rolls his eyes, though the smile never falters on his lips.

“All right, then…” he chuckles. He pauses for a moment, as if he really needs to think about how he plans to open. “... Coruscant.”

“Wow; bold choice,” you snark, earning a chuckle from him. “How about… Kamino?”

“Raxus,” he returns immediately.

“Mandalore,” you shoot back.

“Ryloth.”

“Naboo.”

The two of you go back and forth, on and on, for what feels like hours. Given the number of planets you name, it probably is hours. Echo hadn’t been kidding about his experience—as many hundreds of planets that you know of from your studies at the temple, he seems to know even more. In a strange way, it’s really charming. Being able to name a thousand planets probably has next to no real-life applications, but it speaks volumes of that competitive spirit hidden in Echo that you admire like nothing else.

Eventually, the quickfire pace the two of you had kept up at the beginning slows to a crawl as fewer and fewer planets come to mind. You have to scour the farthest corners of your memory in hopes of remembering anything. 

“...oh! Hoth!” you manage. Echo swears under his breath, and you laugh. “You can give up any time, you know. I won’t gloat too much.”

With a fierce grin, Echo’s brow furrows. He seems to focus harder on this than on anything he has in his whole life.

“...Endor,” he says. When you don’t answer for a moment, Echo turns his head to you, finding a coy smirk on your lips. “...what?”

“I’m pretty sure Endor’s a moon,” you answer.

Echo’s eyes go wide.

“What? No way,” he spits. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you repeat.

“Well… maybe it’s both!”

“Or maybe you just don’t want to admit you lost.”

“No, it could definitely be both!”

The two of you look into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

“... Tech would know,” you both say in unison.

As soon as the words leave your mouths, you both burst into laughter. You rarely have the opportunity to spend time like this anymore—just the two of you enjoying one another as people, admiring all there is to love about one another. But as you settle down from your giggling fit, enjoying the sight of Echo’s warm eyes as they gaze back at you, you thank the stars for every moment you have with him.

And you see fit to thank him with a kiss—one he eagerly returns.

When you pull away, the soft smile on Echo’s lips warms you to your core. He doesn’t go far, leaning into you as his forehead touches yours.

“You know… whenever those games didn’t work, or whenever I was alone… I had something else to help me get to sleep,” he confesses.

“Oh?” you ask. “What?”

He bumps his nose affectionately on yours, almost hesitant to share.

“Well… on those nights, it always helped to think about you,” he whispered.

The gentle tone of Echo’s voice kicked your heart into overdrive. With a bashful grin, you abruptly pull Echo into your arms, squeezing him so tight he can barely breathe.

“Oh, Echo…!” you coo. “When did you get so sweet?!”

Echo chuckled sheepishly. “Heh… sometime between nearly dying and now, I guess.”

Holding onto him for dear life, you can’t help the weariness that overcomes you. When a quiet yawn escapes your lips, Echo smiles.

“Finally tired, huh?” he asks.

“Mmm-hm,” you hum. Your weary eyes find his, filled with affection. “Thanks to you, handsome.”

Echo’s smile softens. Gently, his scomp link lifts your chin, and he offers you one last loving kiss before getting to his feet.

“Come on, then. Let’s get back to bed while we still have time to sleep,” he says. Once he’s standing, he offers his hand down to you, helping you to your feet all the same.

Hanging on Echo’s arm, you walk to the elevator, working your way back to the barracks. Once you settle back onto the couch, and Echo into his hammock, Echo reaches out to you. With a warm smile, you take his hand. Fingers intertwined with his, you finally drift off to sleep, warmed wholly by the love you share.

TECH

…the glare of Tech’s goggles against the dark room. You squint as your eyes adjust, shielding your face with one hand until the elevator doors close.

“Tech?” you call out as he makes his way over to you. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a seat beside you, perfectly casual.

“Looking for you, obviously,” he replies. “And now, I’ve found you.”

Without missing a beat, he produces his datapad in his hands, idly tapping away on it without a care. You find a smile on your lips—he’s nothing if not predictable.

“Looking for me? Aw, Tech,” you coo. “Were you worried?”

Tech hums. “Worried? Not so much. As a Jedi Knight, you are more than capable of defending yourself—far better than I could, I am sure. No, I was merely wondering where you had run off to. And why.”

You sigh softly, hugging your knees close to your chest.

“Well… I’m just a little restless tonight, that’s all,” you explain. “It happens every once in a while, I just can’t sleep. No idea why.”

“Hmm. I see,” Tech says. Not even bothering to look at you, Tech slides closer to your side. He wraps his free arm around you, beckoning you to rest your head on his shoulder as he knows you love to do. You smile, obliging him gladly—even if he does not show it in the way others might, he is still perfectly affectionate. “It could be any number of things.”

“Like what?” you ask.

He adjusts his goggles, clearing his throat quietly before he speaks again. Your eyes can’t help but drink in his every little action. The two of you have been close for some time now, but even before you expressed your feelings, you’d grown so fond of all of his mannerisms. Just watching Tech be Tech calms you like nothing in the galaxy.

“Barring more severe medical conditions, insomnia can result from a number of different causes—many of which are, regrettably, found in our typical living conditions,” he explains. “For example, disturbances in the form of loud sounds can prevent or disrupt someone’s sleep…”

“Wrecker?” you interrupt, causing him to glance at you. When he sees a small smirk on your lips, he matches it.

“Precisely,” he nods. “In addition, bright lights can disturb the brain’s circadian rhythm. Which, er…” He pauses, glancing warily between his glaring datapad and you. Awkwardly, he tilts the screen away from your face. “...sorry.”

With a laugh, you shake your head. “It’s okay, handsome. You were saying?”

Tech nods curtly, before continuing to list more and more of the conditions that might be affecting your sleep. The more he talks, the longer he rambles, you find yourself leaning further and further into him. Something in the way he speaks has you captivated, soothing you like a lullaby. He articulates himself so wonderfully, every consonant he strikes sending shivers through you.

It isn’t long before Tech catches on to the way you cling to him. He tilts his head curiously.

“Is something wrong?” he inquires. With a lazy smile, you shake your head.

“No… I just like listening to you talk,” you murmur.

Tech blinks, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “You do?”

“Mmhm,” you sigh. Batting your weary eyes at him, you lean forward just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Will you keep talking, handsome?”

“W-Well… what about?” he asks.

You shrug, shutting your eyes again. “Whatever you want. Maybe ways to help me cure this little bout of insomnia?”

Tech looks over you with such fondness, eyes soft on you as you nuzzle your head into his shoulder. With a kind smile, he sets his datapad down beside him. He surprises you when he repositions himself, laying his legs out flat and allowing you to rest your head on his lap. Though you look up at him with uncertainty, he meets you with a kiss on your forehead.

“I would be glad to enlighten you, my dear,” he smiles, his voice now just above a whisper. “It is funny you should mention it. For some people, white noise is helpful to induce sleep. Things like the sound of the rain, or…” He pauses, awkwardly clearing his throat. “...or someone’s voice.”

You beam up at him, and he smiles shyly back at you. Gentle and sweet, his fingers begin to trace all along your head, soothing you with every last touch. Your eyes flutter closed, utterly lost in his attention.

“Hmm… does it work extra well if it’s the voice of the sweetest man in the galaxy?” you murmur, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I would not think so,” he answers. “But, if I am the man you are referring to, I am inclined to give my best effort for you.”

You chuckle. “Of course I’m referring to you, Tech. I love you, you know…”

Opening your eyes just as long as you can manage, you gaze up at him with the overwhelming affection in your heart. Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, pressing a delicate kiss on each of your eyelids.

“And I love you more,” he answers, not a hint of doubt in his voice. “Now, just relax. I will take care of you.”

Never have you trusted anyone more than you trust him. With a nod, you close your eyes again, fully submitting to Tech’s care. His voice and his touch relieve your every worry, and before long, you finally find yourself drifting off at last.

You sleep with a smile, his kind words carrying you to your dreams.

CROSSHAIR

… the piercing gaze of none other than Crosshair. When his eyes find you, his usually stern expression softens just slightly.

Wordlessly, he crosses the room, quiet as a lothcat. He approaches you from behind, sitting down and pulling you between his legs. You giggle as his lithe form all but engulfs you, his chest against your back and his chin atop your head. When his arms snake under yours and wrap around your waist, you rest your hands on his, falling fully victim to his embrace.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you smirk. “Did you miss me?”

Crosshair exhales sharply.

“Hm. Not really,” he replies, though you can hear the grin on his lips.

You lean further into him, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

“Aww, not even a little?” you press him.

Crosshairs grip on your waist tightens. He squeezes your sides just enough to make you squeak.

“Not in the slightest,” he fibs.

With a warm smile, you sigh into the cold night air, perfectly content in Crosshair’s arms.

“Well, I missed you… and I’m happy you found me,” you assure him.

He hums a quiet affirmation, before the two of you fall silent, enjoying the gentle ambience of the storm. You can think of very few people you’d feel so comfortable with in this situation—any other silence would beg you to speak and dash it away. But with Crosshair, you feel no obligation to talk for talking’s sake. Neither one of you had much patience for people who just liked the sound of their own voice. No, you two could communicate more than effectively without a word.

And with how he holds you now, you fully understand the depths of his love for you.

The two of you remain in comfortable quiet for quite some time, until at last, the gentle purr of Crosshair’s voice meets your ear.

“Can’t sleep?” he murmurs.

Sighing, you nod. “Mmhm.”

“Hmm.”

He falls quiet again. Idly, his nimble hands trace along your waist. You let them roam—you would never point it out to him, given how sensitive he can be, but you’ve grown quite fond of the way his hands seem to trace you when he holds you like this. He has so many little quirks, and you’ve come to appreciate all of them in your time together. It’s what makes him the man you love, after all.

“You should take my bunk,” he says.

“Hm?” you ask. “Then where will you sleep?”

“On the couch. Obviously.”

With a pout, you crane your head to look at him, only to find him already gazing back at you. The way he looks at you always draws a blush to your cheeks—it’s so intense, so sincere… you never feel more safe, nor more vulnerable. “Sweetheart, I’ll be okay,” you promise. Gently setting your hand on his cheek, you smile. “I can fall asleep eventually. You don’t have to give up your bunk just for me…”

Crosshair huffs—that cute little sigh he heaves whenever you argue with him.

“It’s fine. Between Wrecker and the storm, I wasn’t getting much sleep, anyhow,” he assures you. “Besides, you need the rest more than I do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m a Jedi, remember? I can last a lot longer without sleep than you can.” Your gaze softens, and you run your thumb along his cheekbone. “And you never get a good night’s rest. You deserve it, Cross.”

Despite your affectionate words, Crosshair frowns. He narrows his eyes at you, before closing them entirely. With a weary groan, he presses his forehead against yours.

“Love, can you please stop being so stubborn just this once?” he grumbles. “I know it’s hard for you, since it seems your favorite thing to do is argue with me. But please.”

Now it’s your turn to frown. You bump your nose against his.

“It’s my second favorite thing, thank you very much.” Tilting your head, you kiss him softly, pulling away with an emphatic ‘mmwah’ to his utmost embarrassment. “That is my favorite. But okay, you win. I’ll take your bunk.”

For a moment, he seems satisfied, the slightest grin creeping onto his lips. He leans in to kiss you again, but before he can, you speak once more.

“If…”

Crosshair’s brow furrows. “If what?”

“If you sleep there with me.”

Immediately, his eyes go wide. You feel his body tense up around you, and he rears back just slightly. You know it isn’t the prospect of sharing a bed with you that has him so worried—the two of you have more than grown familiar with each other by now. Rather, he fears those who will awake to find you sharing a bed together: his brothers. If there’s one thing Crosshair cannot stand, it’s giving anyone the upper hand on him, even for something like a little teasing.

Cupping his face in your hands, you meet his gaze with warm eyes.

“Hey,” you assure him, “if they say anything, I’ll beat them up. Okay?”

Crosshair utters the softest chuckle, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Begrudgingly, he sighs, setting his hands on yours before leaning in to kiss you.

“... fine,” he concedes at last.

You beam, touched as always by the way he’s always so willing to compromise for you. Getting to your feet, you take his hands into yours, helping him up all the same. When he stands, you keep his hands in yours, pulling him just low enough so you can kiss him once more.

“I love you, Cross,” you whisper. He gazes down at you, eyes alight with such affection that you know he only reserves for you. Tenderly, he presses a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger there.

“I love you, too,” he returns.

When you finally return to the barracks, you find yourself cozy and snug in Crosshair’s bunk. Given it has an actual mattress, it’s far more comfortable than the couch by the window—made even more so by the embrace of your beloved sniper. In his arms, sleep finds you more easily than it has in years. The gentle caress of his hands is the last thing you feel before you finally drift off.

HUNTER (NSFW)

… Hunter, whose tired eyes light up with a smile when he spots you.

“There you are,” he hums, with the most handsome gravel in his weary voice. “I was wondering where you ran off to…”

You smile warmly at him as he saunters up beside you. He takes a seat next to you, not shy at all to wrap his arm around your waist when he does.

“How’d you find me? I thought I covered my tracks very well,” you ask with a grin. He smirks back at you.

“Really? All those sleemos I’ve tracked down on our missions and you want to know how I could follow you here?” he teases, pinching your cheek playfully.

With a giggle, you shake his hand off of you. “Hey, it never hurts to double check.”

Hunter presses a kiss to your temple. His lips feel warm, even more when compared to the cold breeze from outside.

“What are you doing up so late, cyar’ika?” he asks you softly. With an awkward smile, you shrug.

“I wish I knew,” you sigh, gaze falling to the floor. “For some reason I just can’t sleep tonight. I don’t know why…” You pout, hugging your knees against your chest. “It’s annoying, that’s for sure.”

Hunter nods solemnly.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he hums. “This war’s exhausting, but I still find it hard to close my eyes some nights…”

He falls quiet for a moment. The sound of the rain and the warmth of Hunter’s embrace fill you with a sense of peace.

“What about you?” you ask.

He tilts his head. “What about me?”

“What has you up so late, huh?”

A sly smirk forms on Hunter’s lips. He shrugs a shoulder, all too casual.

“Well, I was sound asleep, but a little someone saw fit to leave me all by my lonesome in the barracks,” he sighs. “Guess I just got restless.”

You grin, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh? Your brothers weren’t good enough company?” you tease.

Hunter chuckles; the hand on your waist lingers lower, his fingers skirting the hem of your shorts and making you shiver. He leans in close to you, lips nearly touching yours.

“Well… they’re not the kind of company I’m after tonight,” he purrs.

A blush fills your cheeks. Unable to resist his charm, you close the gap between you, meeting Hunter in a kiss that deepened by the moment. As his tongue slipped between your lips, you felt him hoist you into his lap, facing you away from him. He parts from the kiss with a low growl in his chest, before trailing more softly down your neck.

“Hunter…” you breathe, eyes falling shut as he lavishes you with affection. 

His warm lips come second only to his warm hands that have since found their way under your shirt. His every caress causes heat to rise beneath your cheeks—even more when his palms land firmly on your chest.

You hum his name again, breath hitching as his fingers toy with your breasts. Behind you, his chest presses against your back. Even without all his armor, he feels so strong… so big. You know that, in his arms, you would always be safe. Well… safe from the other dangers of the galaxy—certainly not safe from him.

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” he asks, breath tickling your neck. You manage a chuckle—although a moan quickly overtakes it when Hunter’s teeth bear down on your flesh.

“I could wager a guess,” you tease. You feel Hunter smile against you.

“Really?” While one hand continues to coddle your breasts, another meanders slowly down your torso. “Why don’t you tell me, then?”

Though you wish to continue playing hard to get, Hunter’s attention makes that difficult. Your words stick in your throat when his hands breach the waistband of your shorts, fingers creeping over your panties. When he strokes over the wet spot in the fabric, you whimper in spite of your best efforts. Deft swipes offer just enough friction to drive you mad with want, but his strong arms hold firm against your attempts to rut into his hand.

“Well? Out with it,” he growls. His lips press to your ear, your heart thrumming against your chest when he adds, “Tell me what you want.”

With the way Hunter’s fingers work you outside of your panties, he must know that you hardly have the composure to make such a request of him. Your groans as you vye desperately to speak the words he wishes must still fill him with some satisfaction—enough that you can feel how hard he is against your back.

“Hunter… please…” you manage, biting your lower lip when he deepens his pressure just slightly.

“Don’t be shy, cyar’ika,” he purrs. “Say it.”

Meeting his gaze with hazy eyes, you sigh.

“Make me come, Hunter…”

You can practically hear the grin on his lips when those words leave you at last. He presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“Heh… anything for you, love,” he smirks.

Swiftly, Hunter pushes your panties to the side; when his hands touch you, now with nothing in the way, the mewl he draws from you sounds so pathetic that you thank every star for the raging storm outside to drown you out. His calloused fingers draw circles around your aching clit, now drenched in the wetness that resulted from his teasing. Only he knew you this well—well enough to have you trembling in his lap, babbling half-formed thoughts of your desire, completely and utterly helpless.

As if you couldn’t get worse, Hunter’s other hand soon joins the first. Not once stopping his motions on your clit, his fingers find your cunt, slipping inside of you with ease. Your walls clench around him, your every sense overwhelmed with ecstasy. The sound of your wetness against his hands, the taste of his needy tongue, the smell of his sweat and yours, the sight of his half-lidded eyes, and the feeling… it was all too much to bear.

Edging closer and closer, your hands reached behind you, finding purchase in Hunter’s hair. You rest your forehead against his, struggling to meet his gaze, but needing to all the same.

“Hunter…” you breathe, a whimper interrupting your train of thought. “I-I…”

Knowing exactly what you want—what you need—Hunter grins. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, meeting you in one last longing kiss.

“Go on, cyare—come for me,” he whispers. The sensual rasp of his voice combined with the magic he works between your legs has you obeying his orders with ease, tension building to your climax. “That’s it… beautiful…”

You come hard on his hands, your cunt fluttering around his fingers as they pulse into you still. The movements on your clit do not relent, either, elongating your orgasm into something unbearably pleasurable. It feels like minutes before he’s done with you—and minutes before you’re done, as a result. But, eventually, his touch slows, bringing you down from your highest high and lulling you into your warm afterglow.

Breathless and spent, you collapse against Hunter, nuzzling your face lazily into his neck. He brings his wet fingers up to your lips, and you lazily allow them into your mouth, gently sucking them clean for him.

“How do you feel?” he asks, a warm smile on his lips. When you open your mouth to answer, a yawn is all that comes out, making him chuckle. “See? It always works. Come on,” he wraps you up tight in his arms, before getting to his feet, “let’s get you to bed.”

Though you want nothing more than to cozy up to sleep right now, you pout up at him.

“What about you?” you ask, hating the thought of leaving him without all the attention he showered you with. With a smirk, he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t worry about me; as long as you’re ready for bed, I got what I came for,” he explains. He raises an eyebrow, grin turning mischievous as he adds, “And… I’m sure you’ll have time to make it up to me before we deploy in the morning.”

Giggling, you leaned up just far enough to give Hunter a soft kiss. He returns it happily, even as he carries you back to the elevator to make your return to the barracks.

“You know I’m good for it,” you hum. With a soft sigh, your eyes fall shut. “I love you, Hunter…”

Though you’re fading fast in his arms, you feel his lips on your head one last time.

“I love you, too, cyare.”

You’re asleep before the elevator doors can close behind you.

AN: Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed - pls tell me which was ur fav LOL I like them all for different reasons but I think Tech ASMR and Wrecker Hugs are my fav. And as always please lemme know if u see any tagging/formatting issues✨✨

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat

[emovulture]

Stuck in a Snare.

Fox!Reader saved by our beloved König :3 Word count: 588

Originally, he was just supposed to be out for a small walk to clear his head since there was downtime at base, and Konig needed to do something to destress, even just briefly. Although, upon hearing some suspicious sounds in the forest, Konig was now alert.

“What is that sound..?” He murmured, pulling his rifle a little closer to his chest, glancing into the bushes. Silently, he wandered into the thicket, keeping low in case an enemy soldier had somehow gotten this close to KorTacs main base. Yet, to Konigs surprise (and relief), it was just a fox stuck in a snare. “I thought we got rid of these sickening things..” He thought aloud, referencing the trap. He sighed, crouching down a few feet away from the panicstricken fox, gently placing his gun next to him. Despite the animals growling, he tried to get close to the poor animal. Seeing the fear in its eyes, and the scratches all over its body made him frown under the mask that heavily obscured his face.

You snarled and bared your teeth, trying to get out of the snare and away from the looming presence of the man, your tail tucked between your legs. You had assumed he was a hunter here to collect your pelt, so you wriggled and panicked, but you were only hurting yourself more, causing you to choke as the noose tightened around your neck. The man seemed to grimace with every harmful movement you made, knowing you were only hurting yourself. Slowly, he took off one of his gloves and boldly held his hand out in an attempt to show that he wasn't a threat, and that it was okay to get closer.

You hesitated, but took notice of his calm and gentle demeanour. You didn't come any closer, but you had thankfully calmed down a little more. Konig tried to subtly get out his knife, but that seemed to worry you more, causing you to snarl and bark again. He ignored it this time, and moved a little closer, knowing full well that you could harm him just as badly as he could to you, but he proceeded to try to cut the noose around your neck so you would be free. “Easy, easy.. It's okay, Kleiner Fuchs.” He murmured, keeping his voice low and soothing. Your snarls slowly turned into jittery whimpers, your ears flattened against your head. “I won't hurt you. Bitte, just stay still–” You abruptly attempted to bite his arm out of fear, but he was still wearing his military attire, so he wasn't harmed too badly. Thankfully, this just gave him a chance to grab your scruff, and finally free you of the trap. He let go of you, and as soon as you realised you were free, you bolted into the bushes. Konig let out a relieved sigh as you ran free, even if you were still wounded, he knew he shouldn't mess with the wildlife too much. He put his knife away and grabbed his gun, slinging it over his shoulder, and letting out a grunt as he stood back up, giving the bushes a quick look over. “Armer Fuchs..” He muttered before making his way back to base.

You were a smart little fox though. He frequently saw your beautiful orange pelt flash through the bushes when he had the time to get out every once in a while, occasionally hearing a playful yip or two. It seems like you wouldn't forget what he did for you.

a/n: This is well over due , unfinished schoolwork is a BIIIIITCH. also this is rushed, I'm sorry!! </3

[defectivevillain]

instinct & reason

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader is masc-intended; race is ambiguous and no pronouns/physical descriptors are used.

summary: Yes, the undeniable facts are staring you straight in the face: Hannibal offered you shelter, food, water, and clothing without a word of expected repayment. Safe to say, you’ll be indebted to him for the duration of your stay here. But there’s no way to ensure he will remain so generous.

word count: 3.1k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical blood/violence/death, cannibalism, gore; canon-typical references to hunting and animal death

author's notes: Read The Most Dangerous Game and here we are. We're not surprised.

You’re not the biggest fan of boats. Even the prospect of a business trip to a country you’ve never visited isn’t enough to override your skepticism when it comes to traveling over the water. Your mind is always filled with worst-case scenarios: what if the boat capsizes, leaving you to float in the middle of the ocean? Of course, this kind of thinking only increases your paranoia. 

Then again, you almost feel vindicated now, as you tread water and stare at the boat that is quickly tearing through the water and abandoning you. Honestly, you’re not really sure how it happened: someone dropped something in the water, you leaned over the railing to look for it, the ship took a nasty turn as the wind kicked in, and you went tumbling down into the water. 

And what did the captain say this stretch of waters was called again? “Ship-Trap Island”? You would sigh, if you weren’t using all your energy to stay afloat. Fortunately, after a few minutes of swimming, you see an island in the distance. 

By the time you reach land, your muscles are burning and you can barely push yourself out of the water before you’re collapsing onto the shore. You lie there for several moments, trying to catch your breath. It appears you’ve landed on an inhabited island, because you think you can see light in the distance. It’s too far away for you to get to now, however; swimming to shore took all of your energy. It doesn’t take long for you to lose the fight against your fatigue and fall into an uneasy sleep. 

You rise with the sun hours later, blinking away traces of exhaustion and slowly pushing yourself to your feet. Your throat is dry and you’re hungry. You thought you saw light last night, but that could’ve easily been a figment of your overactive imagination. Taking a measured breath, you head off into the lush jungle that surrounds the land. 

Then you hear screaming. At first, you want to attribute it to the animals inhabiting the dense jungle. But if it’s a wounded animal, it’s certainly one you’ve never encountered. 

You can’t quite convince yourself to move closer to the sound. It’s clear there are human hunters on this island, if the occasional clearings of jungle brush are anything to go by. But hunters mean weapons. And there’s no guarantee they would see reason. You instead settle for exploring the jungle in hopes that you’ll find signs of a settlement. 

At some point, the afternoon sunlight begins to grow harsh as it illuminates your surroundings. You duck under a distorted tree branch and freeze in place as your eyes catch on a huge building disrupting the natural landscape. Its elegant architecture and well-crafted towers couldn’t look more out of place amidst the lush foliage of the island. Something about the building makes you uneasy, but you know you don’t have any choice other than to set foot inside it to look for assistance. You just need to figure out how to get up there: the building is set on a tall cliffside that drops off on three of the four sides. Frowning, you ascend the hill and eventually find a worn footpath carving its way up the cliff and towards the building. 

The gargantuan wooden doors swing open upon your arrival. Goosebumps rise along your arms as an elegant foyer is revealed, complete with a grand staircase and a solitary figure standing at the foot of it. “Welcome,” they say. You squint as the doors slide shut behind you, removing the obstructing sunlight and revealing a European man with sharp features and gleaming eyes. “My name is Hannibal Lecter. It is a pleasure to meet you, even under such dire circumstances.” 

You stare at him in disbelief, still struggling to accept that a person could survive and thrive on this island. If the palatial quality of the building isn’t perplexing enough, then the man’s attire is: he wears a dark three-piece suit and tie. Your mind doesn’t seem comfortable with digesting anything about this situation, so you make quick work of introducing yourself before falling quiet again. 

If the man—Hannibal—is thrown off by your silence, he doesn’t show it. “We won’t waste time,” he announces, breaking the distance between you to place a hand on your shoulder. The gesture confuses you: your clothes are still waterlogged from the seawater, and you’re practically shivering as the air conditioning digs into your skin. “I have plenty of food, water, and clothing to share with you. You may rest here.”

“Thank you,” you choke out, your voice slightly raspy from dehydration. You’re not sure what else to say. You’re a bit overwhelmed, truthfully. And while you’re unspeakably grateful for the assistance Hannibal is providing, you can’t help but wonder if it comes with a price. Very few people will help another sheerly out of the kindness of their hearts. And something about this island rubs you the wrong way.

Before you can contemplate the thought any longer, Hannibal is leading you up the stairs and into an empty bedroom. He opens the closet doors and looks about for a moment, before pulling out a rather simple outfit that looks to be your size. Then Hannibal shows you to the adjoining bathroom, before leaving you with the promise to return once dinner is ready. 

You take a long shower, practically melting under the hot stream as it washes away the salty ocean water and dirt. Your forearms are a bit scratched up from your foray through the jungle. When you finally emerge, you take a moment to simply breathe… before feeling the clothing you’ve been provided. It’s a breathable fabric, light and airy. You put the pants on first, before realizing you left the shirt back on the bed. 

It’s all wonderfully unfortunate timing. The moment you exit the bathroom and reach the bed, Hannibal is standing in the doorway. For a horrible moment, you’re just staring at him, entirely frozen. He’s staring back unabashedly. Inexplicably flustered, you throw your shirt on and follow him to the dining room. Along the way, you chance a few glances at him. Hannibal is pretty hard to read, it seems—but you swear he almost looks smug at the idea of being caught staring. 

Dinner proves an ample distraction from that strange interaction, and the air is soon filled with easy conversation. Hannibal asks you about yourself and you answer with a mix of honesty and ambiguity. He’s keen to describe his passions when the question is turned to him, which you take advantage of. You need to learn more about this man before you can bring yourself to trust him.

Yes, the undeniable facts are staring you straight in the face: he offered you shelter, food, water, and clothing without a word of expected repayment. Safe to say, you’ll be indebted to him for the duration of your stay here, and there’s no way to ensure he will remain so generous. 

Hannibal describes himself as a natural born hunter. He lives to hunt, or so he says. He tells you of his life as a young boy in Lithuania: how he killed his first animal at merely five years old. That particular tidbit is a bit troubling, but you realize you can’t exactly be picky in this situation. It’s only when he divulges his recent boredom with the animals on the island that you begin to grow apprehensive. Animals no longer pose a challenge to him, supposedly. 

Hannibal sums it up eloquently: “I sought a creature with both instinct and intellect.” It’s easy enough to read between the lines and understand what he’s implying… But it’s very hard to accept. You desperately hope you’re wrong. 

“Animals don’t have intellect,” you remember to murmur, your heart thudding away in your chest. There is one creature that possesses instinct and intellect—one that can wield both as it suits them. You suppose it could be considered an animal. Its hubris often overpowers that classification. 

“Some animals do.” Hannibal smiles. The remark is about as subtle as a slap to the face; your suspicions are confirmed. He isn’t hunting animals in the traditional sense; his game is bigger, and far more dangerous. 

“Humans?” You ask, nausea brewing in your chest. Every nerve in your body is restless, but you know attempting to run now won’t do you any good. He wants you to run, because he wants a chase. After all, Hannibal is a hunter. It’s easy for you to find your role after that recognition—you’re the prey. 

…Hannibal hunts humans. Revulsion, fear, horror, and misery are fighting for dominance in your mind as you struggle to come to terms with that gruesome reality. You find your attention unwittingly pulled to the dish you’ve been eating. After all, hunters often feast on their prey. Did Hannibal prepare a dish made from his victims? 

“Your dish is venison,” he clarifies, evidently noticing the distress on your face. You can’t quite trust his response. 

“Yours isn’t.” You realize in the same vein. Your stomach turns unpleasantly as you catalog the differences between the dishes. You wouldn’t be able to tell at first, but now that you look closely, the cuts of meat look slightly different. 

“I heard a scream this morning.” You continue, your vision sharpening to focus on some unseen point at the far wall. All of the pieces are slamming together with uncomfortable force. Suddenly, you’ve lost the rest of your appetite. You place your fork down and fight off the urge to escape as you watch Hannibal finish his meal. There’s something very dangerous about him. It’s growing abundantly clear that he is a practiced killer. Just how many times has he done this before? How many people has he lured in with a false sense of security, before they’re swiftly exterminated?

You spend the rest of the meal in a troubled haze, and you are only broken out of it by a hand on your shoulder. This time you can’t suppress the flinch that runs through your body, and Hannibal only smiles in response. “Allow me to take you to your room,” he offers. You have no choice but to follow after him as he makes his way through the building. There’s a tense silence between the two of you, with only the echoes of your footsteps breaking through it. 

You find silk pajamas folded neatly on the bed when you return to the bedroom. You’re struggling to keep your composure, ever-aware of Hannibal’s presence in the doorway. Eventually, he must grow bored, because he leaves you with one cryptic remark: 

“Tomorrow, the hunt will begin.” 

Time drags on like a thick sludge. When night falls, you can barely sleep—as you think about this trap Hannibal set for you. It’s clear this is far from the first time he’s done this. This building may have been constructed for that very purpose: for his hunt. The thought is sickening. And you can’t bring yourself to let your guard down and risk being completely vulnerable in your sleep. 

You spend what you assume to be a few hours fighting off sleep, before you’re finally pulled into its grasp. It’s a fitful sleep, dominated by nightmares filled with a twisted smirk on Hannibal’s face and your bloodied head on a pike. The first traces of sunlight peek through the blinds of the window hours later and you’re roused awake, your eyelids burning from your rather lackluster sleep. 

What follows is a very tense breakfast with Hannibal. He spends the duration of the meal studying you; you sit in silence and pretend not to notice. The placement of his silverware on his plate would be a relief, if not for the looming recognition that the “hunt” will soon begin. Indeed, Hannibal is quick to lead you into another room, where he gives you new clothing and a hunting knife. 

And then… you’re effectively released into the wild, as if you’re nothing more than a zoo animal. Hannibal explains that he’ll give you a three hour head start, before promptly turning on his heel and walking back into the building. You’re left standing in place, helplessly looking around as you try to get a feel for your surroundings. One despairing truth immediately comes to mind: Hannibal has a distinct advantage over you. Not only did he engineer this entire thing, but he must be intimately familiar with the layout of the island; the flora and the fauna; and the hand-to-hand combat skills needed to overpower a person. And then there’s you: shipwrecked, still sleep-deprived, and frustrated. There is no competition. He will find you and kill you in a heartbeat. There’s no point in even participating in this hunt. 

That thought gives you pause. It is utterly pointless to participate. So… why participate at all? Hannibal is expecting you to run—in fact, he wants you to. He wants a chase. And if a hunt is what thrills Hannibal…. then you won’t give him one. You’ve only taken a mere few steps from where he left you. And you’re quickly coming to the firm decision that you will remain here. This is the only option that will award you even a minute amount of agency. There’s a good chance you’ll die anyway, but at least you’ll die knowing you were more than just prey. 

The ensuing three hours are the longest three hours of your entire life. You spend the time standing still for a while, before beginning to pace around… then you sit down… And that cycle continues, for what feels like an eternity. You spend a good chunk of that time second-guessing yourself and fighting off the fear in your chest.

It feels like days later when the doors to the building slide open and you find Hannibal. He isn’t carrying a weapon (it doesn’t matter; he doesn’t need one). You can see the moment his eyes find yours: the moment comprehension dawns on him and he realizes you haven’t moved. You’ve trapped him—engineered a situation where killing you would be boring. And if there’s anything Hannibal seems to abhor, it’s boredom. 

Indeed, Hannibal looks furious, a calculated rage gleaming in his eyes as he approaches. A sudden spike of adrenaline screams at you to run and never look back; against all odds, you suppress it. You will not give this man his perverted game of cat-and-mouse. Instead, you watch him warily as he approaches—the hunting knife in your hand a small reassurance. 

When his voice finally breaks through the breezy silence, it is deceptively calm. “You have outsmarted me,” he states with a detached and clinical tone. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable with the notion. 

“You won’t kill me,” you respond. Your heart roars in your ears as his lips twist into a smile. 

“No,” Hannibal agrees, taking a step closer. Something lurches in your chest as he studies you with glittering eyes. His hand then travels from your shoulder, running up the expanse of your collarbone and stopping at your neck. 

It happens as quick as lightning. He tightens his grip; in response, you bring the hunting knife up to his neck. Hannibal blinks, something of an indulging smile on his face as his hand slips from your throat. Immediately you’re struck with the reality of the situation: he is allowing you this momentary glimpse of power, security. But Hannibal has the power here. He is always the hunter, never the one being hunted. 

His hand comes to cradle the side of your face, a gesture that would almost be intimate if not for the tumultuous storm of emotions running through you. Your knife is still pointed at Hannibal’s throat, but he doesn’t seem to care—instead tilting your head left and right. Your brows furrow in annoyance at this treatment, which only seems to amuse him. Then, finally, his hand falls and he takes a step back. 

“You intrigue me.” He hums. Then, Hannibal turns his back and heads for the house. You stare at him in disbelief, before beginning to understand what he’s doing. He’s baring his back to you because he doesn’t view you as a threat. He thinks—or maybe even knows—that you won’t hurt him when his back is turned. 

For a moment, though, you contemplate sinking the knife into his back; you imagine the flicker of surprise that passes over his face, before it’s smoothed over by indifference. You can almost smell the blood in the air, taste your remorse, feel your guilt threatening to break you down. You can see—perhaps too easily—yourself tearing into him, wrenching his ribs apart and cracking them off one by one. 

In your indecision, you lose your advantage. Hannibal is standing in the doorway to his home now, waiting for you with a quirk to his lips. Frustrated and helpless, you follow after him and do as he requests of you: take a shower; join him for dinner. Beyond that, you’re left to your own devices—with no idea when or where you’ll be tested again. 

You’re trapped in this sprawling tower overlooking the ocean’s choppy waters. You’ve entertained virtually every avenue of escape, but each is more unlikely than the last: jump out the window and get skewered by the sharp rocks below; wait for a rescue party that will certainly never come; attempt to reason with Hannibal. As for that last one… You’d have a better chance jumping out the window. Predators like Hannibal cannot be reasoned with—not when they see you as nothing more than a particularly troublesome specimen for their dissection. 

When nightfall finally arrives, you burrow under the soft covers on the bed and close your eyes, the jungle around the island humming and buzzing with life. You’re even more fatigued than last night, but you know sleep will be just as difficult to find. That look on Hannibal’s face is ingrained in your memory—the mere remembrance sends a chill down your spine. As you stare up at the ceiling restlessly, you can’t help but wonder if you would have been better off dead. Sure, you survived a day. But that intense gaze of Hannibal’s promises nothing but an existence dominated by constant wariness and danger. He will always be a predator. You will always be his prey. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But someday he will unhinge his jaw and tear his teeth into you, putting a permanent end to your uneasy life on this paradoxical island.

thanks for reading! <3

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[nahoney22]

hi! congratulations on 3k followers, massively deserved. I was wondering if you could do a request with a female reader? I loved ‘Need a hand?’ And I can’t stop replaying the scene where reader kisses echo to escape the guards and was wondering if you could do the same with the rest of the batch and who initiates it first? But can it be a little more on the suggestive side 👀… Up to you of course! I adore your stuff, especially echo works 😊 thanks! Take your time. 💕💕💕

The Perfect Plan***

All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader

warnings: rather suggestive so 18+ only please, female reader, first kiss, kissing to escape guards/empire, touchy-feely, implied sexual content, explicit language, strip club, neck kissing, dry humping, lap dance/strip, mutual pining, non established relationships.

authors note: thank you! That fic is one of my favourites ever so I’m glad you like. Also, @clu-ven did something similar to this and they’re amazing so check theirs out too! 🤍

Echo

Echo was the one who initiated the plan, driven by the height of the chase and long-burning emotions.

"Echo, they're right on us. We have nowhere to go," you gasped, sweat trickling down your face. Assigned to retrieve crucial information from an imperial base, your discretion had failed and a swarm of guards were hot on your tail.

With determination, Echo took a cue from Fives (whether he bullshitted the idea to him before he wasn’t certain) and knew what he wanted to do. He silently took your hand, and you looked at him with wide, confused eyes, realising the danger of getting caught. "Echo-?" you started, but he drew you into an alcove in the dim alleyway, pressing his lips against yours.

The adrenaline rushed through you as the guards moved away, and you found yourself melting against his mouth. Neither of you pulled away despite now being in the clear after seeming like a couple having an intimate moment. Eagerly, he held your jaw, capturing your sweet whimpers as he pressed himself closer to you, seizing the moment that he may never get again.

“Echo,” you say his name again but this time it was sultry and needy, just saying his name felt amazing as your hands tug on his armour to bring him closer. He’s flushed against you now, his knee pressed between your thighs that leaves you hot and flustered. “Fuck,”

You whimper at the sensation, not being able to help but grind down against his limb that earns a low chuckle in response. “You’re making me so hard.”

When he pulls away, you gasp as he nips at your bottom lip as he parts, leaving you wanting more. “Shall we get out of here, sweetheart?” He asks, both flustered and a little smug at your reaction.

You quietly nod your head, linking your arm through his and take off. You had a lot to talk about on the way back to the Marauder.

Hunter

The club music blares, strobe lights flashing against your bodies as you and Hunter squeeze through the crowd, staying close to evade your pursuers.

"Hunter!" you shout over the music, and he looks over his shoulder, taking your arm and guiding you through the exotic dancers with the both of you feeling out of place. "We need to blend in!"

When the two of you get to the dance floor, surrounded by heated bodies that flushed and grinds against anyone, Hunter asks through gritted teeth, "Blend in how?" He senses the enemy getting closer.

You quickly assess the situation, scanning the dancing couples and then the more intimate couples… and an idea pops into your head. "Pin me up against the wall,"

“Huh?!” He stares at you wide-eyed and completely shocked at what you just said.

“Pin me up against the wall,” you suggest again moving closer to him, breath hot against his face and fully aware that it's a risky move that may even affect your relationship but you feel desperate to not get caught. "Now."

His eyes shift, but he complies. He grabs both of your hands, pushing you back into the corner of the club, pinning your arms above your head. Rougher than expected. Your heart races, not anticipating this to be so alluring, and you hope the music masks the sound of your pounding heart.

"You... you need to hide your face," you say, loud enough for him to hear, his long hair and tattoo being an obvious giveaway. When he gazes down at you, something in him snaps. He leans down, his breath hot against your neck…

“Hunte- OH!” You whimper in pleasure, his lips sucking and kissing along the exposure of your neck. His kisses like fire.

Your back arches in pleasure, flushing your body against his which only has him groaning in ecstasy, his length noticeable as it presses to your crotch. Has… has he wanted to do this as much as you wanted to? “I love hearing you whimper darling, don’t stop.” His hot tongue licks along your neck, up to your ear lobe that had you doing what he loved to hear as he gently starts to suck on it.

But, the plan worked.

Not only had the pursuers turned a blind eye to the both of you, you and Hunter went to find somewhere a little bit more private. His lips had moved to yours by now and your hands had moved to somewhere else too.

Wrecker

Wrecker's world stops the moment your lips touch his. The urgency of the pursuit fades away as he stands there, caught up in the unexpected moment. You had asked him to kiss you as a form of public display, but he hadn't fully grasped the seriousness until you literally jumped into his arms, your legs wrapping around him as your lips met.

"Kiss me back, please," you whisper against him, a hint of desperation in your voice, seeking both safety from the guards and perhaps some deeper connection that is above his average flirting.

He responds, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as the two of you blend into the shadows, using the act of affection as a cover. The guards might be searching, but they don't seem to suspect anything between you two.

With one eye discreetly open, you notice the guards still in the area, and you realize you have to escalate the act. You whisper softly and enticingly, “Touch my breasts.”

“Are ya sure?” He rasps shakily, savoring the taste of your lips as he briefly pulls back to look down at your breasts, covered by a shirt. Nodding in confirmation, he slowly moved his hand over your stomach before he cups your breast in his large rough hand.

You gasp under the touch, loud and wanton as he starts to fondle them. “They feel so fucking good.” He grunts, not caring if this was just a small ploy but as you keen into him, your tongue begging entrance to his mouth, he knew it was more than that. He swallows your moans and claims your mouth with his own.

“Move along citizens!” One of the guards called out to the two of you but paying them no mind, they soon grunted in almost disgust and disbanded.

The Marauder shook pretty hard that night.

Tech

"We seem to have hit a dead end. These directions from Cid's buyers are, unsurprisingly, incorrect," Tech's annoyed tone echoes as both of you stand in front of a towering wall that was supposed to be your way out.

"I couldn't dislike her more than I already do," you sigh, rubbing your temples, trying to devise a plan to escape from the angry Weequays you just stole from. Normally, Tech would have a solution by now, but as he looks around, silent, you start to feel hopeless. Then, an audacious idea strikes you.

"Tech, I have an idea, but it's a bit bold," you announce.

Curiosity shines in his eyes, visible behind his helmet. "Speak quickly," he urges.

"You need to..." you hesitate, feeling a swirl of nervous anticipation as you notice the innocence and intrigue in his gaze, "you need to act like my boyfriend. Or, to put it plainly, like we're a couple."

"I'm not entirely certain how that will help," he responds, seemingly puzzled.

"Think about it. Girls are always fawning over Hunter at bars, and we cringe and look away," you explain rapidly, hoping he grasps the hint.

"A public display of affection," he nods, acknowledging that it might be the best alternative. "But I don't see how merely holding your hand will be effective in this situation."

You gulp, your heart racing. "You need to take off your armor. They'll recognize it, but they haven't seen your face." Although hesitant, he quickly starts stripping off his gear, and you struggle to control your breathing as he does it in a way that leaves you a bit weak-kneed. You've always found Tech attractive and harbored a small crush on him, but you wish it didn't take such circumstances to get a little closer to him. You can only hope it won't jeopardize your friendship.

With his armor out of sight, Tech turns to you, standing tall as he pushes his goggles up his nose. "What's next?"

Anxious and apprehensive, you take his hand and pull him closer, backing up until your back presses against the wall, causing his throat to bob nervously as he swallows. "Place your hand here," you whisper, guiding his hand to your waist and then the other to the wall beside your head, concealing both of you in shadows.

His breath is warm on your face, and his eyes scan the surroundings. "I estimate they'll be here in approximately thirty-seven seconds," he rasps, unexpectedly getting a little closer, his chest brushing against yours. "I need to tell you something quickly," he says suddenly, catching you off guard.

You blink, nodding for him to continue.

“I have always imagined pinning you up against a wall like this.”

Before you could even have time to react to his alluring tone, the sound of hurrying footsteps were heard nearby and that’s when Tech took action. His lips press to yours, frigid but warm but as you let out a very soft moan, his body relaxes into yours and soon he’s kissing you with an intensity that scorches your insides.

The sound and the thought of the Weequays had completely vanished from your mind, just relishing the feeling of you and Tech together as his fingers gently bite into your waist that had you flushing yourself against him in response.

“Such a good girl,” he rasps against your mouth, trailing his tongue along your lower lip that makes you almost keel over but luckily his hold on you keeps you stable and you burn hot as you feel the ache in his pants press against you. Hard.

After a short while, the kiss is broken and it comes to both of your attention that the pursuers were long gone. And they had been for a while but the two of you clearly got caught up in the moment. He smiles kindly at you before gently kissing your cheek, genuine and soft before pulling away.

“Allow me to put my gear back on and then I’ll be more than happy to hold your hand as we head back to the ship.”

This man surprises you more and more each day. Maybe your plan had spurred you both in the right direction after all.

Crosshair

As Crosshair and you were tasked with keeping a lookout on top of a building, you never expected your cover to be blown. As he observes the approaching enemies through his scope, Crosshair curses and urgently pulls you to your feet, rushing you inside the building.

"They're going to find us!" you express worry as he guides you through the stairwells until you both reach a door with loud music blaring from within. To your surprise, the settlement you were on top of is actually a club, specifically a strip club.

"Oh," you squeak, but before you can react further, Crosshair has already dragged you inside, heading towards the exit. However, both of you freeze as the door is flung open, the pursuers searching for you both, while the patrons and dancers continue to revel in the club's ambiance.

Then, an idea strikes Crosshair. "You can hate me later, but we have to do this."

Confused, you're about to ask what he means, but suddenly, he firmly grabs your waist, backing you into a dimly red-lit corner of the room and forcefully makes you sit on his lap on a nearby loveseat.

"Crosshair, what-.” you begin to question.

"We have to blend in," he grunts sternly, cutting you off and wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close. "Hide your face."

You’re completely flustered, never been so close to Crosshair before but you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy it because you did. You and Crosshair seemed to tip toe over each other's true feelings for one another quite often lately.

“We have to blend in properly in that case,” you whisper against him before quickly sitting back and he’s about to curse at you for not following his orders but his words are caught in his throat as you begin to slide your shirt off your body and grind your hips down on him.

He’s rendered speechless as he watches you but hey, if it does the trick… why not? His hands set on your waist, eyes now blown with lust as he gladly accepts this little lap dance from you, watching your hair fall past your shoulders as you tilt your head to the side, moving against him slowly.

“Look at you,” he starts with a coy smile, hand moving down to your arse and giving it a small squeeze, “have you done this before?”

“Not at all,” you rasp, a little nervous but feeling a heat course through your veins under his touch. You lean closer, nose just brushing against his, “are they still looking for us?” You whisper. He looks up carefully and nods his head, the enemy still in close range.

“Yeah. But you’re doing well.” He mutters, smirking in pleasure as he feels himself strain against his codpiece. He then groans as you grind down harder, his vision blurring with stars. “D-don’t stop.”

The cord had snapped and you launched forward, capturing his lips with yours to create the perfect plan of distraction. He kisses back feverishly, whispering your name. “That’s it, grind yourself against my cock.” He breathes into your mouth and you let out your own whimper of ecstasy.

“Anything for you.”

With the enemy way out of range now, this still didn’t stop the pair of you and in fact found somewhere more discreet to carry on this naughty moment.

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @imalovernotahater @kaminocasey y @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions

[jordosprout]

And With Thunder Comes Rain

Pairing: Wrecker x GN!Reader SFW

Can be read platonically/Mutual Pining

Dividers: @stars-n-spice

Word Count: 3,443

Warnings: Angst, Descriptions of storms, Nightmares, Sleep deprivation, Grief, Wrecker feels guilty

Summary: Wrecker comes to you looking for comfort after the events of Eriadu.

AN: Look at me all punctual when I'm the one making the due date? But nooo when someone else tells me I need to have something done at a certain time, that's just not possible /lh. Please note this is my first time really writing a fic for Wrecker! If need be I might make edits to this. Gender neutral pronouns are used at the end, other than that none are used. Please enjoy!!

It has been a standard week since the events of Eriadu and the capture of Omega that followed. 

There was so much uncertainty that puddled inside you and the squad—every day you spent tense and on edge, not knowing what the future would bring—having little to no sense of familiarity or consistency. You didn’t know how to adapt to the rapid changes around you—how to move around the physical and emotional wounds that persisted you during every task. Everything was going faster than you could process. But eventually, it became clear that you couldn’t just do nothing.

That was when the obsessive need to become a better pilot for the Batch started. It was the only thing you could think of that would make you useful right now. Flying like your life depended on it was the only thing that distracted you from the turmoil of such a detrimental loss. 

You started one of your runs after Hunter’s briefing, notifying you and Wrecker that Echo would be leaving with Rex later that day cycle. It must have been 3, no, 4 hours before you were commed by Hunter “Havoc 6, it’s time to come down. You’ve been at it long enough.”

You shook your head despite knowing he couldn’t see you, “No can do Sarge, I need to get this down.” you explained, using the nickname you started calling him when you first joined his squad. He wasn’t ever technically your sergeant, and you found it fun to pull his leg with that fact.

He said your name in a warning tone, “That’s an order.”

You groaned, you hated when he pulled that card. No, he wasn’t your sergeant, but you still followed and respected him as the leader, and he knew that. You probably shouldn’t continue to test him.

Turning the Marauder you made your return to the cliff you stationed yourselves at, camping out in a large cave on the side of it. You completed your landing sequence, exiting the shuttle begrudgingly with a displeased Hunter to greet you, a hand on his hip; Echo was beside him shaking his head. You simply responded putting both of your hands on your hips and childishly poking out your tongue at Hunter. You looked behind him, finding Wrecker sitting on an old crate. He had been more open about the hurt caused by the last mission. Often quiet, saying little to nothing. You felt your eyebrows press together in worry.

You moved past Hunter taking a seat beside Wrecker on a separate crate. You looked down at his hand resting next to his leg. You wanted nothing more than to hold it.

But instead, you rubbed his shoulder attempting to soothe the hurting giant next to you.

Echo’s departure wasn’t making the changes any easier for anybody. You all knew it was coming, that he wouldn’t be able to stay long. That his heart was in the fight. But you hoped all of you would have a few more days before Rex took him back. You enjoyed his presence, and even if they didn’t outright say it, so did the rest of the squad.

You stayed with Wrecker whilst Echo and Hunter awaited Rex’s arrival beside the Marauder. Wrecker had kept his gaze on the floor, his eyes carrying a sad gleam.

Once Rex’s shuttle arrived, Echo approached you and placed his hand on one of your shoulders.

“Make sure they stay outta trouble.” 

You nod, trying desperately to not let your emotions get to you.

“And quit drinking so much karking caf, it’s not good for you,” he said light-heartedly as he gave you a squeeze on your shoulder.

You gave a playful scoff, “No promises,” you responded causing him to roll his eyes.

“Just try, yeah?”

You look away from him and rub your head, mumbling, “Yeah yeah, I’ll work on it.”

Moving over to Wrecker, Echo gave him a reassuring squeeze on the bicep, “Everything will be fine, don’t worry.”

Wrecker only gives a faint nod in response, his eyes slightly wincing at the pain from moving his neck.

Echo gave you both one more nod goodbye before he turned around to head to Rex’s ship. Rex wrapped an arm around his shoulder and walked him up the ramp. Echo turned his head and gave you all a wave of his scomp before the doors closed, and the ship took him with it.

You all stood there, watching as Rex and Echo left the atmosphere. Even Wrecker lifted his head to watch the man he had come to care for leave. You couldn’t help the pang in your heart. You wanted nothing more than to keep your boys with you, so you could know they were safe. But you knew that what Echo was doing was important work that he needed to do for himself—for his brothers.

Once Rex’s shuttle was no longer visible, Wrecker stood, heading inside the Marauder, leaving only you and Hunter outside.

“What do we do now, Sarge?” you asked, unable to hide the waver of doubt in your voice. You hoped your leader would give you a plan you could hold yourself to.

Hunter sighed, you couldn’t ignore how tired he looked. “We keep searching. We… don’t let Tech’s sacrifice go to waste. That’s what we do.”

“But how?”

He turned to face you, “I don't know,

but we’ll figure it out. We always do. We have to, for all our sakes.”

It’s been only three days since Echo left, and Wrecker became that of a ghost. Spending the past few days in the gunner’s mount. The silence that came made the Marauder feel foreign; as if you walked onto the wrong ship. You wished he’d talk to you, to Hunter. You just wanted him to say something. You hated it when everything was so quiet. At least when he and Omega were making a ruckus, you knew they were okay. A loud crew was an alive one.

You had spent the entirety of the day helping Hunter take count of inventory. And with your final numbers, the pit in your stomach deepened. There were only two days worth of rations to split between the crew. And when you told Hunter he was, expectantly, just as concerned. You saw his heart sink, and the bags under his sleep-deprived eyes deepen. 

“I need to comm Rex,” he mumbled, running a hand down his face before heading to the cockpit and immediately attempting to make contact with Rex. He only patched through after his second attempt. The conversation wasn’t long, as Rex and Echo had a mission to pick up a clone wanting to leave the empire. But miraculously, they had someone in mind to help.

As soon as Rex gave him the information he needed, Hunter moved to the Navicomps and began mapping out the route you were to take. You offered to give him a hand, but he insisted he had it covered. So instead you left him with a cup of caf before you went to the cockpit.

You hoped Rex’s contact would be able to help as he said. That once you had a full inventory, everyone’s minds would be able to settle. That you’d be able to get on your feet to start searching for answers. 

The cloudy day transitioned into a stormy night on the planet you and the boys managed to station yourselves on; the drumming of rain becoming a hypnotic lullaby. You have a hot cup of caf in your hands. It makes sense to stay awake instead of disrupting your sleep later since you’d need to be awake in three standard hours to meet Rex’s contact. However, you couldn't help the calm, empty daze coming over you. It was pleasant to have an empty mind, to say the least, even if it was only for a moment—even if it was hard to maintain when the ship's silence matched that of your head.

It felt wrong trying to enjoy the calm after losing so much—after losing everything. As if, you weren't allowed to have it.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, cursing yourself for not enjoying the moment. Who knew when you’d have one like this again?

You grumbled inaudibly to yourself, finishing the last of your caf as you stared out the transparisteel. When you were about to get up to refill your cup, you could almost feel Echo’s disapproving gaze. 

So you decided that maybe one would be enough.

You rubbed your hands together, it was freezing in the Marauder. You wanted nothing more than to turn on the heating systems, but Hunter told you against it earlier; he wanted to conserve energy when possible. You tucked the old Republic-issued blanket on your lap, the thin fabric doing little to keep you warm.

“When have we ever followed orders?”

“No!”

“Tech!”

Wrecker’s body shoots up, banging his head, thunder challenging him as it crashes loudly in the distance. His body is ridden with shivers, unable to regain control as he takes in his surroundings—frantically looking for Lula. A relieved sigh escapes him once he sees her arm poking out from behind him. Wrecker immediately went to lift her to his face. The soft and familiar fabric was a nice contrast to his sweat-covered skin. He moved to sit crisscrossed, resting the tooka doll in his lap. Tears fell as he fiddled with the ears of the doll Tech had made him when they were cadets.

Nightmares have been pursuing Wrecker as their prey since they got back from their failed mission. And while Lula used to chase them away, she wasn’t able to this time. Because the nightmares were real.

They happened, they weren’t a reality he could run from.

He had always thought that he would have been the one to call out Plan 99—to go down for his vods. But here he was. Still here, still alive, while one of them wasn’t. Because he wasn’t able to reach him fast enough. 

Because he failed.

Wrecker wiped away the tears before they fell, his lip pulling to a frown as he refrained from letting out a sob. 

He was convinced that this was supposed to be easier. The Kaminoans made it seem like it would be. They all went through so much conditioning in case a vod was lost. Yet, despite that. Despite what he was told, he sat there, unable to grasp the idea of losing one of them, for as much as he knew, forever. 

He gulped hard, he needed to be around someone. He shifted in the gunner’s mount and made his way down, beloved Lula still in hand.

He looked to his side at the Navicomps, finding Hunter asleep. He hesitated in waking up his vod and decided to see if someone else was awake instead.

The silence was suddenly broken when footsteps began to thud throughout the shuttle, and you immediately recognized them as Wrecker. There was a momentary quiet before the door to the cockpit wooshed open. Wrecker, or who you assumed to be Wrecker, stood quietly at the entrance.

“Y’ up?” He finally asked, attempting to be quiet in case you weren't. His voice was more graveled than usual from the lack of use. 

“Yeah, I'm awake.” You responded, turning your seat to face him. He still had his neck brace, and had Lula in one of his hands. 

He stayed where he stood, shifting his weight again with a hand on the back of his head while the other continued to hold Lula.

“S’ okay uh… if I sit in here?”

You nodded, offering a gentle smile. He made his way to the copilot seat before easing himself down. He leaned back into the chair, eyes fixed on the sky in front of you.

“What’s Hunter up to?” you asked casually, attempting to make light conversation.

“He fell asleep at the Navi. I didn’t wanna wake 'em up.” He told you, rubbing one of Lula's arms between his pointer and thumb. 

You hummed, not surprised. You’ve found Hunter like that a few times yourself recently; only sleeping in short bursts before he was working again. And while you’ve insisted on him simply sleeping on a rack instead, he couldn’t bring himself to. The idea of not doing anything made him restless. That was clear. But some sleep is always better than no sleep.

You both stared up at the water droplets coming and going. Lightning expertly streaked the clouds like they were a canvas and it was a master painter; thunder shaking the sky above not long after. Wrecker was almost completely silent beside you. After a few moments of shared quiet, you glanced at him, his form silhouetted in darkness, the glow of navigation screens illuminating the edges of his face. You cleared your throat.

“So…How’re ya holdin’ up?” you finally prompted. You already knew that answer. But you wanted him to know you were here for him. 

Wrecker continued to face the windshield as he glanced at you with glassy eyes. He cleared his throat before he looked back to the glass as his lips tightened into a line. Only then did you notice the shake in his hands. How long have they been doing that?

“Wreck?” you called for him softly, but he didn’t give you a response. He merely put his head into his right hand, the flesh of his thumb and pointer finger covering his eyes. You shifted in your seat and leaned in, grabbing his left hand into yours. It continued to shake as his shoulders began to follow suit; Lula being left in his lap. You squeezed, and his calloused hand squeezed back. “Wrecker…” you gently pleaded.

He breathed in through his nose sharply before the thoughts that plagued him fell like an avalanche.

“I miss em’. I miss Omega I miss Crosshair- I-” he swallowed hard, before trembling out, “I miss Tech. I should’ve been able to reach him- he was right there but I couldn’t,” his lips tightened “I’m sorry I couldn’t-” was all he could get out before a sob interrupted him

You grabbed his cheek, “Wrecker, look at me…” you asked, silently begging him to oblige.

He lifted his head from his hand, looking at you with guilt-ridden eyes. You tilted your head to get a better look at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Wrecker you need to understand that it’s not your fault. There was nothing you or anyone could have done. Tech… did what he knew would give us the best chance to get out. If there was another solution, he would have seen it,” you explained, tears pricking your own eyes. “There was no time left.”

He leaned into the palm of your hand as it became wet with his tears.

“What if- what if he’s still out there? And we just left him behind?” Wrecker questioned, causing you to stiffen at the suggestion. You paused to think about what to say as he searched your eyes for answers. You haven't been able to accept such a permanent loss yourself. Instead, you had convinced yourself that he was out there. That you wouldn't allow yourself to admit to him being dead unless you had unshakeable proof. That's what kept you going. At Least for now. 

“Tech is a smart and strong man Wrecker. If he survived that fall… he’d find a way to get back to us- to contact us. But we can’t risk going back, Wrecker. Not yet. Not when we have so few hands. Not when we're so low on everything. But… if he’s out there… we’ll find him.” 

Wrecker nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He had a hand on top of yours now, inaudibly pleading for touch. You leaned forward to press your forehead against his.

“M’ so scared. I don't know what I'd do- you, Hunter, and Echo are all I have left I-” 

“We know Omega and Crosshair are still out there Wrecker. We’ll find them, we’ll bring them home,” you assured, wiping away his stray tears as you spoke.

“What if-” he choked, not needing to finish his unspoken suggestion. You moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, holding it to your own.

“No ifs, Wrecker. There are a lot of unknowns right now, and honestly, I’m scared too. But we can’t lose hope. We will search the ends of every galaxy if we have to. If it means our family will be together again. No matter how long that takes, we'll do it together,” you promised.

He gave you a quiet ‘okay’, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks. Not a moment later you felt him leaning his body forward before pulling you into a desperate hug. You didn’t hesitate to hug him back. His body racked with bone-deep shivers as he held onto you. As if you'd vanish if he didn't anchor you down. 

You stayed there like that for a few moments. And part of it was admittedly for yourself just as much as it was for him. The hardships you've all experienced in just the past two weeks alone weighed on the depths of your soul. And now you felt you could finally permit yourself to feel them. You both needed to take a moment to cry it out. And that was easiest to do when you had Wrecker wrapped around you like this. The weight of his grip reminds you that he's real and that he's here. That you're here. 

“I’m… happy you’re with us,” he said, his voice muffled against your shoulder as he gave you another squeeze. 

You sniffled and gave a small lighthearted laugh in an attempt to ease him, “‘Course I’m still here. Who else’ll keep you boys outta trouble when Echo’s away?”

He sniffled before giving you a short chuckle at the comment. You grinned to yourself, happy that you were able to get something out of him with that.

“But in all seriousness, everything will be okay. We’ll get em’ back. Nonna’ us are giving up on them, I promise.” 

He pulled away to look at you before wiping his eyes and smiling at you, wiping your tears off your cheeks when he saw them. “Yeah…you’re probably right,” he agreed sheepishly.

You shivered when the front of your body met the cold air, earning a concerned look from Wrecker.

“You okay?”

You looked up at him confused until you realized what he was referring to.

“Oh- yeah I’m just cold,” you explained, leaning back in your seat, wishing you had a nice hot cup of caf in your hands.

Wrecker stared at the floor of the cockpit in thought before having an idea.

“C’mere,” he offered, patting his lap.

You raised an eyebrow at him, “Ya sure?”

He nodded, placing his arms on the rests to give you more room to get onto his lap. You hesitantly accepted his offer, climbing onto him and disregarding your blanket. Immediately you were met with his warmth, it only increasing when he wrapped his arms around your middle. Lula ended up between you and his arms. Wrecker placed his head on top of yours, ignoring the momentary pain in his neck.

The clouds dissipated over the next hour, the rain softening in turn. You remained with him, both of you sinking into the co-pilot seat. You found yourselves admiring the constellations of this planet together, attempting to lock away the image of them into your memory. You don't remember the moments that came before sleep cradled you both. All you could remember was the feathery kiss that was placed on your head.

Hunter awoke with a crick in his neck from the odd position he had slept in. He attempted to rub out the discomfort with a groan before giving up and meekly accepting it to be his companion for the day. He could feel the rising sun, his senses easily picking up on the wavelengths it emitted. 

He knew that if the sun was rising, that meant the time to leave and meet their contact was approaching. He stood up, rolling his shoulders before heading to the cockpit. He figured that was where you and Wrecker would be, picking up on your distinct scents.

And he was right. There you both were, sharing the copilot seat as you both slept; your hearts beating in time with one another. Wrecker held onto you like you were his Tooka doll, and you slept there comfortably. Though to Hunter's surprise, Wrecker moved his head to face him.

“Shh, they’re sleepin’,” he scolded in a loud whisper.

[bvidzsoo]

An Imprisoned Nightingale

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: violence, a lot of manhandling, cursing, and mentions of human trafficking

Pairing: Choi San x female reader

Word count: 15,4k

Summary: Choi San was everything you needed him to be. A hunter? He’d hunt down anything for you. An assassin? You wanted someone dead, he’d do it. An inside man? That information you needed; he’d bring it to you. He was a mercenary. Ruthless, fearless, uncaring, unfeeling. All he dreamed of was money and power. Everyone who heard his name feared him, people stepped aside on a busy road for him, women never approached him out of fear of being captured and then sold by him. You loved singing, despite working as a waitress, you dreamed of performing on a stage one day. Your whole life you've worked hard, knowing that one day you'll be discovered and your life would change; you'd become a performer for the wealthy. And your life did change, but instead, you became a prisoner, soon to be sold off by nobody else than Choi San. (Reader is called Im Ara in the following oneshots.)

A/N: My God, writing this was a whole ass ride, I want to punch San personally lol. It's never explicitly said that it's human trafficking, but it's quite obvious that it's that. :// I don't go into much detail about it, so yeah...the third part of the series is up and I hope you'll enjoy it. Hongjoong's part will be up in around two to three weeks because I'm going on vacation. If you want to be added to the taglist, just comment on the post. And don't forget to let me know what you think about this part, enjoy now!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329

Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part

           The sun shone down on the little cottage sitting by the end of the cobblestone street, stationed somewhere on the outskirts of the bustling city. The neighborhood was quiet, most families living in the neighboring cottages being of working class, with three to four children. I liked this part of the city, because everyone was nice and it was clean. The further you ventured inside the city, the dirtier and louder it got. It was an industrial city and the markets reeked of fish and pigs; the smells combined disgusting. If I could, I stayed away from that side of the city, content with the serenity the outskirts offered. And perhaps living here felt like I was closer to achieving my dreams. If I walked down the path leading towards the forest and hiked for an hour, I would arrive to a huge clearing adorned by a house smaller than a castle, yet bigger than a mansion. The Royal Family loved coming here during the summer, it was their little hideout. Wealthy businessmen and gorgeous rich ladies would walk the streets, all headed towards the Royal Family’s place, invited for an afternoon tea or perhaps a midnight ball. I always peaked out the window when I heard horses pulling carriages by the house, knowing very well that all I could do for now was admire from afar. I was working towards to achieving my dream, but I was still a long way from it. The false sense of richness and wealth this little cottage offered was nothing but fake. I could barely afford it, sometimes not having money for weeks lead me to cultivating my own garden, which turned out to be a lot harder to do than I had initially expected it to be. The elderly family living next door wasn’t very keen of the idea, saying it lured foxes and other kinds of animals from the forest, threatening their chickens and other pets they kept around, acting as if their animals weren’t the ones drawing in the wild life from the forest. I learned to ignore the couple’s nagging, but continued keeping an eye on them, making sure they wouldn’t attempt sabotaging my little garden.

I had opened the windows, the warm breeze carrying inside as I dusted everything off with a wet cloth. It’s been a week since I’ve had a full day to myself, and so I took advantage of it, and cleaned up my house. It was quite easy and fast as it had only three chambers and a small bathroom, however, my thoughts stole me away from reality quickly and so, this simple task turned into an unnecessarily longer one. The modest pink dress I was wearing seemed to turn into a carefully designed, soft fabric, night gown, making me look like a princess. My short hair always seemed to be pulled into intricate braids, quite impossible in real life as I could barely tie it up into a low ponytail. And the wet cloth I was holding in my hands suddenly turned into a white tissue, or sometimes a small purse, occupying my hands, saving me from feeling too awkward. My humble living room turned into a huge ballroom decorated by expensive marble and low hanging golden chandeliers, paintings from other Kingdoms brought in, captivating everyone’s attention. The living room which only I was occupying was suddenly filled with hundreds of wealthy people, laughing and conversing, enjoying each other’s company. I stood to the sidelines, observing everyone, finding myself smiling at a little girl dancing by herself. She seemed to be lost in her own world, oblivious to everyone around her as she went closer to the band of musicians, the violin catching her attention. My legs started moving and I found myself walking over, approaching her.

“Pretty instrument, isn’t it?” I asked softly, making her look at me with big eyes.

“It sounds lovely.” She said shyly, looking away when I glanced at her. I nodded my head and clasped my hands behind myself, having to agree with the little girl.

“You’re quite lovely as well, little one.” I said with a smile and the girl chuckled, twirling around, showing off her pale blue dress. It complimented her similar colored eyes well, her tan skin glowing underneath the candle lights.

“I like the shade of pink your dress has.” She complimented me back, showing how well raised she was. I thanked her quietly and a woman rushed towards us, panting lightly.

“Here you were,” She muttered as she took her daughter’s hand into hers, slightly relaxing, “Stop walking away from me, Y/N, it’s not safe for a little girl like you to be alone.”

How peculiar, her name was the same as mine. The woman finally seemed to notice me and when she looked up, and made eye contact with me, she seemed to be in awe. She smiled brightly and extended her hand.

“It’s an honor meeting you, Miss Im,” She spoke up as I shook her hand, “My name is Im Nara.”

“Lovely meeting you, Mrs. Im.” I said pleasantly, listening to the woman’s rant about her wishing to meet me sooner but she wasn’t capable of attending balls due to her daughter being too young, and her wish was to bring her child to these exquisite gatherings with herself. I felt accomplished as I listened to the woman, her praises warming my heart, allowing me to take pride in myself. I have worked hard to get on this level, to be recognized and appreciated by men and women alike, even children. Anyone who had a mildly nice voice could become a recognized singer in their little town, but I stayed persistent, hard-working, and never allowed anyone to push me down, and that’s how I became so well known in the four seas and four kingdoms. Queens and Kings requested me to sing at their balls, weddings, and sometimes even invited me over for a quiet afternoon tea, making sure I had everything I needed. I was living the lavished life I always wanted and for once in my life, I felt accomplished.

I excused myself from the woman and her child as the lovely musicians stopped playing and announced that a special performer would entertain the guests for an hour now. I smiled and after taking a sip of water, soaking my throat for a little, I walked up to the middle of the stage and bowed my head, “Welcome, everyone, I hope your evening has been lovely so far. Allow me to entertain you for the following hour, I have been Im Y/N.”

And so I allowed my voice to grab everyone’s attention as I started singing a soft tune everyone knew. The song was about a pair in love whom had to go through hardships in life before they found each other and settled for a simple life. The man was a fisherman and the woman a princess, but she gave up everything for him. Her parents were strict and never allowed her to love someone freely, so she ran away from home and accidentally bumped into the love of her life on a pirate ship. Not many lived to tell the tale of such an encounter as pirates were known to be ruthless and scary, yet somehow, the princess seemed to charm the sailor. Everyone clapped when I finished the song and I cleared my throat, continuing with the next one, my powerful voice resounding in the expanse of the vast room, bouncing back off the walls. Once my little act of entertainment was over, everyone clapped loudly and I bowed deeply, thanking them for their attention and appreciation before I walked off the stage, headed to the little bar to ask for some water to freshen up my vocal chords.

A few minutes have barely passed since I had gotten off the stage and I was already surrounded by various people, each trying to grab my attention. I chatted with the lovely ladies, complimenting their outfits or jewelry, getting invited to their get togethers in return as a performer. The single wealthy men seemed to watch me from afar before reluctantly approaching me, remaining delicate as if they were scared I would run away. Some tried to win me over with tales of their doings, or by bragging about their money, something I wasn’t interested in. The one and only question they had to answer was that if we ever fell in love and married one day, would they want me to be a pretty trophy staying at home all day long and doing nothing or would they let me to continue my singing career. If the answer was that they’d prefer I stayed at home, I would excuse myself and find company from someone else, however if they said I was allowed to continue singing, I would entertain the conversation, wondering if we were a match made in Heaven. However, nobody ever seemed to be good enough. Their personalities just pushed me away as I didn’t feel appreciated enough, and I found peace in my solace, content with being able to fend for myself and live a happy life.

The King’s second cousin seemed to find me in the crowd of people and he invited me over to their table, asking me to sit with them. It was an honor, so I couldn’t refuse. I greeted everyone politely and the women were quick to ask where my gown was from and if they sent an invite to sing at their birthday parties, if I would come. I chuckled and told them that if I was free I would gladly do so, making them squeal in excitement before they whispered to each other excitedly. I accepted the glass of champaign from the King’s second cousin and he made a silly toast, the table erupting in laughter. As I took a sip from the champaign, I felt eyes watching me. I attempted to look around the room, but the culprit was sitting right across from me. He was a very handsome man. His jet-black hair was gelled back, a few stray strands falling into his sharp, slit like eyes, their color a deep brown. His lips were plump and glistened from having licked them after taking a sip of his own champaign, the bridge of his nose tall, complimenting his manly face well. His aura was rather intimidating, yet no malice radiated off of him. Catching myself staring at him, I blushed, and quickly looked away, making the man smile. His whole demeanor seemed to change once a charming smile was on his lips, he looked rather endearing. He was wearing a General’s uniform, making it quite clear that he was part of the Royal Guard. I have never seen such good-looking man, and I found myself wishing to talk to him, bewitched. He seemed to be quiet as he observed the people around the table, only speaking when spoken to and rarely laughing or smiling. My heartrate picked up when we made eye contact again, becoming shy as he flashed me a small smile, his adorable dimples showing. The King’s second cousin tapped my hand to gain my attention and I looked at him with a smile, trying to focus on the conversation at hand rather than at the handsome General.

“Tell us, Miss Im,” The King’s cousin started, with a cheeky smile, “Still haven’t found your other half?”

I chuckled, a little embarrassed that my love life was brought up in front of the General, but played it off, “I haven’t, Sir, it seems as though the perfect match for a hopeless romantic like myself doesn’t exist.”

The people at the table laughed at my words, apparently funnier than I thought they were as I was being honest, but it seemed to gain the General’s attention. He sat up straighter in his seat and raised his glass when he caught me peaking at him, lightly tilting it in my direction. I grabbed my own glass of champagne and nodded, the two of us drinking from our glasses at the same time, “Well, dear Miss Im, I feel it became my personal mission to find you an educated and well-mannered man.”

I truly wished the King’s second cousin stopped talking, but he was tipsy and his filters disappeared, “Everyone at this table, however, is already married—”

“I am not.” All eyes fell on the General, who’s voice demanded respect, not too deep yet not high pitched either. I couldn’t help but blush and avert my eyes when his gaze became too much, and the King’s second cousin let out a satisfied sound.

“How silly of me!” He exclaimed, and stood, taking my hand in his, “Let’s introduce you to General Choi.”

Despite wanting to act coy, I couldn’t help but feel excited as the King’s cousin walked us around the table, towards the General, who stood up. I couldn’t help but find myself mesmerized by his presence, his eyes drawing me in. Who was this man? Have I finally found my other half? And as the General extended a white glowed hand to shake, loud knocking caught my attention. I glanced around to see if anyone else heard it, but nobody moved, nobody reacted. I smiled, a little tense, and went to shake the General’s hand, when the knocking turned into banging. I jumped, frightened, watching as the image around me became washed out, fading away. I panicked and tried to hold onto the General’s hand, desperately wishing for him to be real, but instead, I found myself crashing against the front door.

“Im Y/N! Open the door!” The scratchy voice of the landlady made me groan, head resting against the door as my perfect fantasy faded away. I wasn’t the famous singer anymore attending balls of the wealthy, getting invited to get togethers and birthday parties, meeting the love of my life. I was just a poor girl living in a cottage I could barely afford, working at an Inn which didn’t pay well, and also, I have barely cleaned anything in the house.

I sighed, and opened the front door, “Were you trying to ignore me, cheeky girl?!”

“No, Mrs. Yoon, I was just—”

“Disturbing everyone with your loud screeching.” The woman interrupted me rudely, making my jaw clench. The one screeching here was her and not me.

“Where’s my money, anyway?” My eyebrows furrowed and I quickly glanced behind me, eyes falling on the calendar I designed myself placed on the wall. The end of the month would be in two weeks, why was she asking for rent right now?

“You’re a bit early on rent, Mrs. Yoon—”

“I’m not early, you’re the one late.” I sucked in a deep breath, telling myself that it was alright if she interrupted me, “You didn’t pay last month, and haven’t paid this month either.”

“Because it’s not the end of the month, yet.” I tried to reason with the old woman, but she just scoffed and gave me a glare.

“You have until the end of the week to pay me last month’s and this month’s rent, young lady.” My stomach churned at her words, realizing I didn’t have enough money for that. And I wouldn’t have by the end of the week either, “And stop screaming.”

That was the last straw as my patience evaporated and I snapped at the old hag, eyes narrowed at her, “I’m singing, not screaming!”

The old woman just scoffed and turned on her heels, stalking off as she kept throwing glares at my way, making me grimace at her before I slammed the door shut, doom seemingly looming over my head. I can’t lose the cottage, what am I supposed to do now?!

            My free day passed by quickly and I found myself almost oversleeping my shift, having to get ready in a frenzy. Usually the afternoon naps I took to be able to work all night long were short, however, after working all day in the garden beforehand left me tired and I didn’t wake up in time. I was lucky I had prepared my dress before going to sleep and all I had to do was put it on before running out the door, wishing I owned a horse as I would get to the Inn faster. It was a good twenty minutes’ walk away, on top of a hill to make my life even more torturing than it already was. The petite sandals I wore to match the dress weren’t made for running and my feet kept tangling together every second step, making me lose my cool quite quickly. I could usually control my temper, but sometimes the smallest things got to me. However, I managed to be on time and the Inn’s owner gave me a glance and a nod of approval before she told me to put on my apron and start waitering the tables. Thankfully, I managed to convince the owner to allow me to sing in the weekends, entertain the guests a little without her having to pay me for it, the tips of the people would do. At the beginning it was awkward as the people seemed to find it weird, but after getting used to it, more and more people started coming to the Inn, intrigued by the new form of fun. Sometimes drunk sailors who were passing through the city would ask me to sing them old tales, something I didn’t know even existed until now, making me become an expert at them in about just a month. Sometimes people wished for lullabies, some sad ones, and I would do as they asked despite the Inn not being a place for feeling nostalgic. My favorite ones were the catchy ones, to which everyone sang along and sometimes even danced if the atmosphere was right.

Tonight it seemed to be a busy night as all tables were occupied, somebody entering the Inn every fifteen minutes. My act of entertainment lasted less as I had to help out the other girls, but I promised to sing to the people more when I had a little free time, making them cheer loudly. Unfortunately, my singing career hasn’t taken off in the real world like in my fantasy world, I was not invited to wealthy outings. I hoped and prayed every night that it would happen sooner than later, trusting in it and allowing the Heaven’s to guide me. I couldn’t let my dream go to waste; I wouldn’t accept living a normal, regular life. Not when I was talented, not when I loved singing. I knew my worth, I knew I deserved more than working in a run-down Inn, the payment not even enough to live in a nice, small cottage.

“Hey, Y/N, bring us another jug!” I heard a regular calling out drunkenly and I sighed, running up to the bar and filling five jugs with beer. I placed them on my tray and walked up to their table, placing the jugs of beer on the table and taking the empty ones. As I was walking back to the bar to wash the used jugs, I felt someone tugging on my skirt, halting my steps. I turned around, eyebrows furrowed at who was grabbing me.

“Can you bring us more beer too?” It was a man, teeth crocked and clothes dirty, quite foul smelling. I tried to keep a straight face, having not recognized him as he wasn’t a local. I nodded wordlessly and yanked the skirt of my dress out of his grip, sighing to myself. The other girls were working hard, everyone busy with their own tables and I watched one as I filled three more jugs with beer. She was the youngest and quite pretty, but she allowed men to touch her too much. They were all over her, groping her, saying disgusting things to her. And she remained silent, she just took it, and even flirted back, making me feel sick to my stomach. No man has ever touched me, not here and not anywhere else. I wouldn’t allow a lowlife to taint me, when I knew there were good man out there too, the ones who were on my level, the ones who would treat me right. I walked with the jugs of beer back to the table of the unknown man, placing them down on the table. They looked at me and snickered at each other, but I ignored it. I was usually very nice to everyone, always smiling and soft-spoken, but I did not like their approach towards me, therefore I tried to convey the very obvious message without having to say something. However, they seemed to not catch onto it, as the same man who grabbed me before, suddenly held onto my skirt again.

“Listen, pretty lady,” He slurred, making me glare down at him, “We’re just passing through the city and decided to stop here tonight, heard there was a really good singer. And you weren’t just good, look at how beautiful you are too!”

“Thank you.” I managed to say and tried to pull my skirt out of his grip, but he was holding it rather firmly.

“Do you get paid enough?” I didn’t answer his intruding question, just tugged on the skirt again, “Well, there’s always more ways to make money, beautiful, and I could give you not just that, but a memorable night too—”

“Let go of my skirt, right now.” I snapped, my voice raising. The man looked taken aback by my demeanor, all softness and kindness having disappeared.

“That’s not how a lady should talk like—”

“I said, let go of my skirt.” I yanked rather harshly on it, finally getting it free from his grip. The man didn’t seem too happy and when I went to walk away, he grabbed my wrist, looking at me with a sneer.

“You should respect men more—” I chuckled, gripping his wrist back with my other hand, glaring at him as I cut his words off.

“A lowlife like you should respect women more—” Then I squeezed his wrist hard, making him hiss as he released my hand suddenly, “And don’t touch me.”

Well, I have angered the man now, and he stood up, trying to get all up in my face, but I pushed him hard enough to have him sit back down. He was being loud and a few people started glancing our way, “How dare a bitch like you talk to me like that?! As if you don’t sell your body—”

The slap which cut his words off resounded in the whole room, making people look at us wide eyed. The man was speechless for a few seconds, before his hands turned into fists and he jumped up, about to punch me, but a man stood in front of me, gripping the foreigner’s collar, “We don’t appreciate men who hurt women here, buddy.”

It was the regular who asked for beers before these hooligans, “My advice is you either settle down or get lost.”

The regular was a big man and despite his friendly aura and happy demeanor, he was scary whenever he got angry. You rarely saw him angry, so that’s why it was even scarier when he truly was. He was quite gentle with all the girls here and on busy nights we found him lingering around, looking out for us without a reason. Later we found out he was the owner’s nephew and felt like we were exposed to men like this foreigner, who did not know how to behave, quite frequently, so when he had nothing else to do he’d keep an eye out for us.

The owner of the Inn assessed the situation as she came out from the backroom, and quickly approached us, asking her nephew to release the foreigner, “Sir, please calm down and don’t cause a scene—”

“That bitch can’t behave!” The drunk sailor pointed at me as he screamed, making the owner’s nephew take a threatening step towards him. The sailor cowered a little bit and sat down as his comrades started telling him to stop it, realizing the man looking out for me could knock them out in a fight anytime. He was twice their sizes. The owner motioned for me to follow her and I turned at her nephew for a second, thanking him quietly, before walking towards the backroom.

“What happened out there?” She asked as she sat down in her chair, eyebrows furrowed. I sat opposite her, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“He started touching me and implying disgusting things, so I asked him to stop and he didn’t listen…” I trailed off, looking away as the owner narrowed her eyes at me.

“Did you slap the man?” She knew me too well; I couldn’t even lie. This wouldn’t be the first incident; she has already warned me to behave. I could only hope she wouldn’t fire me; I really didn’t know what I would do next then.

“I did—”

“You should head home,” My eyes widened at the owner’s words, confused as to why, “Your shift would end in an hour either way, so it doesn’t matter much. I don’t have the money, so come back tomorrow for the payment.”

I nodded and got up from the chair, untying the apron from my waist and placing it on her desk, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, good night.” I bowed my head and she stopped me as I got to the door.

“Be careful on your way home, I heard Ateez docked down in the city a few days ago.” When I continued to look confused at my boss, her eyebrows furrowed, “Women have been disappearing, Y/N, I’m telling you to look out.”

“Oh,” I chuckled and brushed off her words, my route not taking me towards the center of the city, “Thank you for your concern, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” My boss muttered and I bowed my head before going outside, leaving through the back of the Inn, not wanting to see that foul foreigner again. I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t have slapped him again if I did see him. Men like him disgusted me. I hated these types of so-called men. They held no value in my eyes, they worth nothing.

I checked my surroundings, my boss’ words getting a little bit to me, but I knew there was nothing to be afraid of. The crime rate in this city was low and since I lived towards the outskirts of it, it was safer than walking towards the center, where the markets were. At night it was littered with drunk men, looking for one-night stands. Perhaps if I lived there, I would have been scared walking alone at night, but here it was fine. I was humming to myself, skipping from one cobalt stone to the other, imagining that I was walking towards my carriage to head back to my little mansion. I would take a bath there, have a ravishing dinner and perhaps gaze at the stars in my rose garden before going to sleep. My butler would be already asleep, and I’d try to remain quiet as to not wake him up, but he’d still wake up, and so I’d ask him to join me in the garden, point out the constellations I was unable to see. He loved astronomy and would talk about it a lot, passing his interest onto me as well. Footsteps behind me made me snap out of my daydream and I looked behind, but nobody was there. I rolled my eyes and continued walking, figuring it was a stray animal or something. But a few minutes later I heard it again, now faster and harder, and before I could panic and take off running, I felt a body collide against mine. I would’ve screamed if it weren’t for the cloth pressed harshly against my mouth and nose, smelling foul, the smell making my throat itch as I inhaled it. I wanted to push this person away, but my muscles went numb fast and my vision started blurring, until it became blacker than the night sky.

            My stomach was violently ill when I finally came to it, the stench of fish unbearable as it made me gag. I moved the back of my hand against my nose, trying to repress the smell, but it wasn’t doing much. My ears seemed to be ringing and I was thrown forward, as if something crushed into us. I didn’t understand the predicament I woke up to at first, confusedly looking around, until my eyes fell on the iron bars holding me captive in a small dice shaped cage. The weight around my wrists finally caught my attention and I looked at them flabbergasted, tugging on the chain, to no avail. I was chained against the wall, having little freedom to move around in the cage. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to remember how and when I got here, but my last memory was of walking home after my boss sent me off. And then it clicked, the foul-smelling cloth pressed against my nose and mouth, I was drugged. I was drugged and brought onto this…ship? A lump formed in my throat as I frantically looked around, assessing the situation, trying to think of something. However, my heart beat faltered when I saw the other girls around me. There were three more cages besides the one I was in and two scared looking girls in each one of them. A quiet whimper caught my attention and I looked to my right, eyes falling on a younger looking girl, who was curled up in a ball, eyes teary. Her wide eyes looked at me, fright bouncing off of her. My heart started beating faster as things started sinking in, and I found it harder to breathe. My throat was closing in on me, restricting any air from getting to my lungs. I tried to divert my attention to anything else, even find comfort in one of my fantasy scenarios, but nothing seemed to work as I felt my face going red, starting to gasp for air.

“Hey, you!” I heard someone slightly raising their voice, making my head snap in their direction. Across from us, in the cage to the right, a middle-aged woman was looking my way, eyebrows furrowed, “What’s your name?”

I licked my lips and tried to suck in a deep breath, but it wasn’t working and I felt like I was about to choke, “No-no, keep breathing, copy me.”

The middle-aged woman started taking deep breaths, counting for me, and I tried to copy her, but nothing happening for a few minutes. Then suddenly, I could feel my throat loosening up and air finally flowing into my lungs, filling them to the brim. I started coughing as I desperately breathed in more air, looking at the woman with gratefulness written all over my face, “My name is Y/N.”

“I’m Hyolin.” She introduced herself and I bowed my head slightly, noticing that she was the only one not crying besides me. Her eyes were red and she kept sniffing, but no tears left her eyes, “We’re on a pirate ship, if you’ve been wondering.”

My heart started beating faster again as I looked around, pulling on the chains of my handcuffs, but they were too strong to break. The chamber was huge and it looked like some sort of basement, filled with supplies, barrels, and a big variety of guns and other weapons. I could see a fishnet filled with a bunch of dead fish and it made my stomach sicker, forcing me to gag as I averted my eyes, falling on my cellmate. She was crying quietly and I fought my own tears from rolling down my cheeks, trying to stop my brain from processing that I was a hostage on a pirate ship.

“For how long was I out?” I whispered to the young girl and she jumped, slowly looking at me. Her body was shaking and she looked at the floor before whispering back that I was out for a whole day. It felt like a punch to my gut and I looked away biting my lower lip, realizing that if I was out for a whole day, we have sailed out onto the sea already, taking me far away from my home. My head started thumping suddenly, all of my dreams slipping right through my fingers. I would never become a famous singer, I would never live a lavished life, I will never be remembered. Instead, I would be either sold off or killed, forever lost on the sea or in some creepy man’s basement. The first tear trickled down my cheek and I quickly wiped it off, the commotion behind the heavy wooden door making my body tremble. There were multiple male voices behind the door before it slowly opened, strong light flooding inside as they walked down the stairs, stalking towards our cages. All of us tried to make ourselves look smaller as the three pirates stopped in front of our cages, looking left and right before opening the cage across from ours.

“Stand up, all of you.” The man inside the respective cage demanded, his voice harsh and frightening, so we did as told. I could only see his backside, but he had jet-black hair and his shoulders were wide and concealed by a black leather jacket. The man seemed to be inspecting all of us, murmuring to himself about our looks. Normally, I wouldn’t have allowed him to make such comments, but right now I was not in a favorable position and my body was shaking from fear. I had no idea why he was doing this and I was scared that one wrong move would get me killed. On this ship I couldn’t do much but try and survive, however, once on land, I could try and run away, asking for help and making sure these monsters were behind bars, in a real prison. The tallest of the three seemed to notice my piercing gaze and I quickly looked down when he raised his eyebrows, lips pulling into an amused smile. There was nothing amusing about this situation.

“So, what do you think?” The other guy, who was the shortest out of them all and had a white cloth wrapped around his right forearm, signaling that he was the Captain, asked in a quite bored tone.

“They aren’t the brightest so far.” The man inspecting us dared to say with a sneer, checking the other girls. My blood boiled at his words, but I bit my lip and continued glaring at the floor.

“We can’t afford making a shitty deal, San.” The Captain snapped, arms crossed in front of his chest, “Not after Yuri almost destroyed our ship and Jongho released our Siren.”

The tallest scratched his nape, pouting, “Well, it wasn’t entirely Jongho’s fault, Captain…we should probably thank the Siren he’s still alive, to be honest—”

“Whatever, Mingi,” The Captain snapped, shooting him a glare, “If we don’t get high payment on these girls I’m afraid we’ll have to return to our old ways of survival for a while.”

San, the one checking all girls, opened our cage as he snickered, “I don’t mind at all. It’s been too long since I had bloodied my sword.”

My body shivered and my cellmate started crying loudly as San touched her hair, moving it out of her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. I wished I could’ve punched the man and held the crying girl, but I was rooted to my place, just as frightened as her. I refused to show my true feelings, however, having no intention of showing weakness to these monsters. I tensed up once I saw a pair of glistening black shoes stop in front of me, the man’s presence powerful. I lowered my head even more, for once wishing I had longer hair so that it would cover my face, restrict the men from seeing it. San tsked as he harshly grabbed my chin and raised my head by it, our eyes finding each other. Perhaps in a different scenario I would’ve been easily charmed by the man standing in front of me, his beauty unmatched. His jet-black hair fell messily on his forehead, he had clearly run his fingers through it numerous times. His sharp, slit like eyes, their color a deep brown were intense, keeping you pinned to your place, and I found myself scared to even breathe as we stared each other down. His lips were plump and glistened from having licked them just seconds ago, the bridge of his nose tall, complimenting his manly face well. He was intimidating and I fought against my will of wanting to cover away from him, refusing to show him any fear despite the very obvious tears gathered up in my eyes. Suddenly, he chuckled and smirked, eyes running all over my face, then down my body before stopping on my hair again.

“I knew you’d bring us a lot of money when I spotted you last night,” My jaw clenched as his words made the Captain and the other man, called Mingi, look my way, “You’re drop dead gorgeous, angel, pity your hair isn’t longer, you would’ve made us even more money.”

My jaw clenched and I ripped my head out of his hold, looking off to the side, head turned away from him. I couldn’t believe such malice could hide behind such a beautiful face. I hated him as he chuckled, looking me over one more time before he walked out of our cage, locking the iron door behind him, smirking at the Captain.

“We’ll be filthy rich, Hongjoong.” San said with the evilest laughter I’ve ever heard and the other two men chuckled as the three of them took off, headed for the stairs. The silence was deafening as we waited for them to be gone, and I felt the tears finally streaming down my cheeks once they were out the door, locking it behind them. My knees gave out and I fell down, holding my head in my hands as I started sobbing loudly. I felt the pitiful gazes of the other girls and it made me cry even harder. I wished I was so ugly they would just feed me to the sharks, at least I could try and swim away then, have a chance at saving myself. I couldn’t lose my perfect life like this, I just couldn’t.

     ��      We couldn’t tell whether it was day or night due to being locked down here, but when Mingi walked in with a few more lanterns and muttered that he’d bring us dinner soon, we realized it was probably around the evening. Everyone seemingly had calmed down a little bit since San examined us, the girls constantly giving me pitiful glances. I hated it, wanted to ask them to stop, but remained quiet. If they thought they were safe because San called just me beautiful, I wouldn’t want to destroy their small sense of security, because I knew how much it meant. I tried to distract myself multiple times, the rocking of the boat making me sleepy but I refused to sleep, scared that the pirates would do something to me. No matter how hard I tried to imagine that I was in a different place, finding a fitting scenario for my current reality, it never lasted for too long. The image became blurry until it disappeared altogether, making me sit on the floor with my back against the wall defeated, wondering where they were taking us. I was from the South Kingdom, living on the furthest island from the mainland. It would take around four to five days to travel between the two on a big ship, but I didn’t know how big and fast these pirates ship was, so I couldn’t judge how much it would take us to arrive. I assumed they were taking us to the Capital, but I wasn’t even sure why I was captured in the first place. Hyolin, who turned out to be the oldest amongst us girls, seemed to be the only one fully understanding the situation, but she refused to tell us. She asked us if we’ve heard about Ateez and Choi San, and remained silent after hearing our answers. I did know Ateez was a pirate crew, but I didn’t know who Choi San was…until today. I assumed he was some sort of trader, but his physique said otherwise. His muscular and well-defined body begged to differ, and the big sword secured around his hips also proved my theory to be true. He was probably something like a soldier, not a trader. I had no idea what ranks pirates had on their ships, but I imagined San to be at the front leading, fighting the enemy.

Not knowing what to do with myself anymore, I found myself quietly humming as three girls had fallen asleep, curled up on the cold floor into themselves, hugging their torsos. The young girl sharing the cage with me had calmed down hours ago, but she wouldn’t stop sniffing and rocking back and forth. She also wasn’t talking to us, so I figured I could try and distract her with a sailor song I knew. I found myself quietly singing, staring off into the distance, looking at nothing in particular as I lost myself in the story of the song. It was about a young woman who lived by the beach by herself and wished to meet her lover who got lost on the sea years ago. They would have been married already, but the mates of her lover said he got shoved into the sea by a big wave, forever lost to the water. The young woman never believed her lover was dead, her gut telling her that he’d return home to her and they’d live a happy life together. And she seemed to be right as one night someone knocked on her door, making her almost faint. It was her lover and he looked better than ever. She flung herself in his arms and they cried for hours, the man telling her everything that’s happened to him after he fell in the sea. Apparently, some mermaids saved him but kept him hostage, scared that he’d lead other sailors to their lair. After years of teaching them about humans and helping them whenever one of them was sick, they finally released the man, trusting him enough to keep the secret about their existence. The woman couldn’t care less about mermaids and finding them, her biggest treasure was sitting right in front of her, all she needed was him.

“Your voice is so beautiful.” The young girl spoke up for the first time willingly since we’ve been here, her voice high pitched and shaky. I looked at her surprised, and smiled at her softly.

“Thank you, dear.” I whispered, resting my chin on my knees, which were pulled up to my chest.

“Where did you learn to sing like that?” She asked, finally willing to converse with us. She had nothing to lose by doing so at this point.

“Nowhere,” I sighed, playing with the skirt of my dress, “My grandparents once took me to their good friends when I was little and they asked if I played any instrument. When I told them I didn’t they told me I could always try and sing, use my own voice as an instrument.”

The young girl listened closely, looking a little curious, “You’ve been singing for a long time, then. Are you famous?”

I chuckled and shook my head, “No, not even a little bit.”

A gloomy feeling seemed to loom over our heads as I sighed loudly, closing my eyes, “It was my dream…to become famous. To sing for the wealthy. To be invited to gatherings and the Royal family’s balls as a performer, but—now I’m a prisoner on a pirate ship. I’ll never become a well-known singer. All of my hard-work was in vain, I just—I wish I was rather dead, than on this ship.”

An amused deep chuckle made all the girls still awake tense. The young girl beside me hid her face again, turning into the wall, her whole body shaking again. I opened my eyes and looked up, startled to find San standing right outside my cage. When did he get here? And how did we not hear him or even notice him until now? His lips were pulled into a twisted smile, looking very amused as he unlocked the door. I watched as he took a step inside, placing a tray of food down on the floor, never breaking eye contact with me. The young girl started whimpering, irritating me to no end, but I didn’t show my feelings. I tried to remain neutral as San stared me down, challenging me with his gaze to look away, to succumb to him. But I would never do that, I refused to cover in front of a lowlife like him.

“You’re not just beautiful, you have a beautiful voice too.” He said sounding almost amazed, an excited glint in his eyes, “You’ll be worth more than I thought initially.”

His words made me gulp and my palms turn into fists, but I refrained myself from saying anything, refusing to feed his energy with mine by being weak. San smirked and slightly leaned down, tilting his head to the side as I glared at him, “And forget about dying, beautiful, because nothing harmful will happen to you as long as you’re under my watch.”

But he was the reason I was even placed in a harmful situation. It was his fault that once we’re on the mainland something horrible will happen to me, to the other women in these cages. It was his fault that I would never achieve my dreams, it being the very few reason I found living worth. I acted without thinking, without considering that the tray of food was both for myself and my cellmate, without considering how hungry she must’ve been, forgetting how hungry I was myself. I kicked the tray with my leg, food getting on the floor, glaring at San with full hatred as his eyes slightly widened, his smug expression slipping for a second. He was far away from me, but it felt like he was breathing down my neck as he stood up straight, wide shoulders pulled back, jaw clenching. His gaze made me shiver involuntarily and he was out of the cage, slamming the door shut before locking it. The young girl jumped and I remained staring at San until he was out of the room, Mingi being the one to bring the other women their dinners. I wanted nothing more but to escape this hell.

            One or two days have passed since we’ve been taken prisoners on the pirate ship, but I couldn’t really pin point how much time has passed since I was kidnapped. It was continuously dark down here, where they kept us, and if it weren’t for Mingi always announcing what type of meal he was bringing for us, I wouldn’t have even known what time of the day it was. The atmosphere was quite somber as everyone was scared for their own lives, covering away whenever San entered the room. He kept coming down, sometimes laughing at us and teasing us with vile words, words I tuned out once I realized how foul of a person he was. He did this for his own enjoyment, because he liked seeing us scared and helpless. If I wasn’t on a ship, behind bars, I would’ve stood up for myself, making sure he never disrespected a woman ever again. But I couldn’t do that here, not when my scared cellmate started crying as San told us to change our clothes in front of him. She was begging him to turn around, embarrassed and humiliated when he slapped her hard, shouting at her to shut up. My body was shaking from anger and I clenched my hands into fists, trying to keep my breathing even, not wanting him to see how easily he could get a reaction from me. He smirked the whole time, entertained by the whole ordeal as the girls sniffled and whimpered while changing, covering underneath his intense gaze.

I didn’t feel better than them, I felt violated as his gaze ran over my body hungrily once I was out of my second-hand dress, the silk nightgown I was wearing the only thing concealing my private parts from unwanted eyes. I felt humiliated when he muttered that my freckle covered body was exotic and men would kill each other to get their hands on me, but I didn’t let any emotion show on my face as I held eye contact with him, chin high, as I pulled on the simple white dress he brought for us, staring him down spitefully. San seemed to be enjoying it, eyebrows raising when I threw my dress in front of his feet, making him bend down and pick it up himself, unlike the other girls who handed him their own dresses themselves. I could play innocent and fragile, and I would do just that, but not when my privacy and decency were being violated. Not when I wasn’t treated like a human being, not when I wasn’t respected. San’s lips pulled up in a wide grin, dimples forming on his cheeks, but he didn’t seem happy as he eyed the dress in front of him, shaking his head as he sucked on his cheeks. He probably didn’t expect any type of disrespect or challenge from any of us, thinking we were too scared to stand up for ourselves. But what could happen to me other than dying, while I was on this ship? Nothing, nothing that could scare me into subordination. Despite thinking that San would throw a fit and make me grab my dress and hand it to him, he didn’t, he just leaned down and picked it up, feeling the fabric of it.

“For someone who regards themselves so highly, you look rather cheap, Y/N.” I chuckled, his words triggering me enough to finally show just how irritated I was, but I remained silent. His gaze pinned me to my spot, challenging me as he waited for a retort, but nothing happened. I didn’t speak, didn’t move. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. It was so quiet in the chamber, that I thought the other girls stopped breathing. A ruckus upstairs seemed to get San’s attention, and finally someone called out to him, telling him to go help them. Our stare down finally came to an end and San walked away with a smirk, dangling the keys to our cages in his hands mockingly. If I could, I would’ve punched him unconscious right then and there, but the chains and iron bars were in my way, so I had to settle with the power of my imagination, where San wasn’t even breathing anymore.

Dinner time had approached once again, and us, the girls, had somewhat calmed down from the whole fiasco from earlier. It took a lot of coercing and encouragement from us for my cellmate to finally stop crying and I sung her whatever songs she wanted to hear, finally lightening her mood. Somehow I got her to smile as Hyolin and I told her funny happenings from our jobs, Hyolin being a baker. The young girl, who’s name we finally found out, was Eunchae. She was barely seventeen and it broke my heart that she was here with us, her whole youth stolen from her. It’s not like I was much older than her, but at least I got to live my life a little bit up until now. She told us her mother had only her and relied on her, so Eunchae was scared what would happen to her mother now that she’s disappeared from her life. We tried reassuring her that her mother would probably figure something out, but it only made Eunchae cry again. I felt bad, so bad for her. And promised myself, that if I could somehow save myself from this nightmare, I’d take her with me. Hyolin was a strong woman, I knew I didn’t have to worry much for her and the other women with us seemed to like her more than Eunchae or I, which was probably good. If Hyolin tried to break free as well, they��d follow her no doubt.

When the heavy door opened, everyone tensed and we watched as Mingi and San walked down with trays of food, each one of them handing them out to two cages. Of course, it came as no surprise, as San chose Eunchae and I’s cage, his eyes amused as I avoided his stare, preoccupied with my nails which had gotten a bit dirty. I didn’t want to see him after what he did earlier, anger cursing through my veins just at the memory of it. But I had to be smart. I was smart despite what everyone thought about me. I survived this long after my grandparents deaths thanks to it. I could be soft and persuasive, fragile looking, in the eyes of men. I knew I played my cards a little bit wrong until now in front of San, but damage control was still doable. I could still act dainty, and blame my previous behavior on the stress I was feeling, if he asked. Once he placed the tray of food on the floor for us, he didn’t leave the cage, just looked around, before leaning against the bars with a smug look, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Today he was wearing a casual fit, a white shirt which was barely buttoned, tucked inside his leather pants. He had two swords on each side of his hips and a long, dark blue, coat kept him warm from the harsh wind up on the deck. My body ached for some sunlight and a breeze, but I knew it wasn’t possible until I was on this ship.

“Well, I come bearing good news,” My heart shouldn’t have skipped a beat at his words, knowing not to hope for anything good since it was coming from this lowlife pirate, “we’re docking down tomorrow on the mainland, isn’t that exciting?”

Nobody answered his question, my body tense as my eyebrows furrowed. What would that mean? What would happen to us?

“Isn’t that exciting?” He repeated himself, his voice hard and it made Eunchae whimper as she quickly nodded her head, afraid he’d slap her again. My blood boiled, but I ignored it, having to play coy for once again.

“One small advice,” San dragged his words out, eyes falling on me, burning a hole in the side of my head, “When you’ll be no longer with me, behave, and your lives will be easier. Men don’t like stubborn and rude women, they like them weak and respectful, especially the men I do business with.”

I wanted to tell him to go jump off the ship, become the sharks dinner, but I bit my lower lip and gulped, still refusing to look at him, knowing very well he was directing his words mainly at me. But I still didn’t fully understand why I was here, and I wanted to know. Hyolin seemed to have accepted her fate long ago, but didn’t care to share it with us, seeing that we were quite literally in the same boat.

“What—” I stuttered, hoping it would look authentic as my voice was small, “What will happen to us once—once we’ll get to the mainland?”

I stared at the floor, playing my role, hopefully, well, “A couple of things, beautiful, but the most important one is that you’ll bring me tons of money.”

I gulped, “How?”

San chuckled as if my question was the funniest ever, crouching down, lowering his head as he was trying to make eye contact with me, but I didn’t look his way, “How, you ask? By selling your body for me.”

My blood ran cold when I heard his words, and my heart started beating like crazy, ears suddenly turning red. My hands started shaking and I clenched them into fists, hoping he wouldn’t notice as San stared at me with a crazed look in his eyes. No, this couldn’t be happening. I was pure, I was untouched, I couldn’t let men just…ruin my life like that. I had full autonomy over my body, nobody could take that away from me. Not San. Not anyone else. I let out a quiet breath, trying to think of a way of saving myself, of charming San into letting me off. I would be betraying the other women here with me, but I had to try. And if I succeeded, perhaps I could help them too later on.

“You—you said I have a beautiful voice—” I wasn’t faking my stutter anymore, my thoughts were so jumbled together that I didn’t know what I wanted to say first, “I can sing for you, entertain your men for you. My body—my body is not worth more than my voice, I—I can make you richer with my talent, I—”

“Angel,” San cut me off, slightly coming closer, voice almost softening, “If I wanted to make you a famous singer, you wouldn’t be here right now. And your voice isn’t worth more than your body.”

I gulped, feeling dread settling in my stomach. This really was the worst that could have ever happened to me. I shook my head slowly, feeling the tears in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. I couldn’t humiliate myself even more, not in front of this monster. San seemed to have lost interest in me as he stood up straight, smoothing out his coat, looking down at me with an amused expression.

“Did you think I kidnapped you to make you a princess, Y/N? This is the real world, not some sort of fantasy land. We all have to make money in some way—”

“But you’re selling women, to make money.” My voice was harsh as I snapped, raising my head, finally looking at him. I knew my face was red from anger, my cheeks burning as I pushed myself up, standing tall, yet shorter than San, “You’re using humans to make money, to live a lavished life, while you make others miserable. While you steal our lives away, you get to live a free life—”

“Not everything is fair in life, angel.” San said with a nonchalant shrug, seemingly amused by my outburst, only fueling my anger.

“Something not being fair in life means getting fired from your job, it means losing a loved one, it means working-hard yet never quite achieving your dreams not—not getting kidnapped off the streets by someone who’s playing God!” I couldn’t help it as I screamed at him by the end of my sentence, breathing hard and wishing my glare could kill him. San didn’t seem so amused anymore, his eyes narrowing at me, “A lowlife like you shouldn’t even look in our direction, San."

San tsked, letting out a loud laugh, startling the other women as they watched me with fearful eyes, Eunchae shaking her head, begging me to stop with her eyes, “Is that how you see me? What you think of me? A lowlife?”

“Have you never been insulted by a woman before?” I raised my eyebrows mockingly, watching San stalk towards me slowly, “Did you think just because you view us as some objects we wouldn’t have a brain to think with and to feel with? Can you even sell me off if I will not behave like a doll?”

“Yes,” San nodded, chuckling, stopping right in front of me, eyes piercing mine, “I can still sell you, because there’s some men who love it when their objects have a big mouth and more than two thoughts in their skulls, makes it more exciting, you know? More satisfying to see them succumb to them. More enticing when they fight back, only to be disciplined in mere minutes—”

It took me a great deal of self-control to not step back as San invaded my personal space, stopping just inches away from me as his voice dropped to a low whisper, “It makes it so fucking hot when you finally get to fuck them dumb into the mattress, making them a mess of cries and pleas, asking you to stop but they are never in charge, even if you let them think so for a moment.”

My lips parted in shock and I couldn’t help but gasp at his vulgar words, taking a step back, but San reacted fast as his hand was in my hair, yanking my head back, making me yelp. I had no time to react as something sharp and cold was pressed against my neck, making me freeze as I was afraid to even breathe, “I know the type of woman you are, angel. You act fragile and sweet as long as things are going your way, but once you realize you’re at disadvantage your true self starts showing. You can’t manipulate me and you can’t make me feel bad for you, because I don’t give a shit about you, angel. All I see is a bunch of coins in return for you body when I look at you, and that’s all I need. What happens to you after you’re free from my hands, I don’t give two shits about. You can go jump off a cliff or you can live the miserable life you were going to live either way in that small, foul and good for nothing city, Y/N. I made it worse, perhaps, or I made it better. I’ll never find out.”

“You have no idea what life I was living,” I breathed out, voice shaky as the knife pressed against my Adam’s apple, “But I can promise you that I will ruin you.”

San’s gaze melted into mine, his face lowering, our noses almost touching. My heartbeat faltered for a second and I shrunk back a little bit, his dominating aura finally getting to me. I hated him, so much, and I hoped he could see it in my eyes, in my expression. He should just kill me right now, making his own life easier. I always kept my promises, and this was my promise to him. I would make sure he’d be ruined once I was sold off. Suddenly, San started laughing loudly and he pushed me away, making me fall into the iron bars as I was thrown off balance, making the others stare at the ground as his wild eyes looked around, challenging the other women to say anything. Nobody seemed to be able to do so and he left us alone, not even bothering to lock my cell door, showing just how much power he held over us. How little good my outburst did.

            Our night was sleepless after my little fiasco and the other women were beyond frightened, whispering amongst each other, sometimes throwing glares my way. I couldn’t care less, I didn’t do anything wrong, I did no harm to them, I just ruined my chances of ever getting out of here unscratched. It was hilarious how my plan backfired on me, but it only showed how unlucky I have been lately. Nothing was going my way and nothing would ever go my way from now on. When the heavy door finally opened again, everyone knew it was the morning. Everyone knew we got to the mainland. Everyone knew our doom was closer than ever. It was Mingi again, with San walking after him. Mingi was holding a bunch of clothes, their color an ugly orange, and he opened all the cages, handing us the dresses as we stood ready. He was respectful enough to walk away once we had the dresses in our hands, knowing that we’d have to change now. San, just like last time, remained, watching us with a very pleased expression on his face.

“Well, ladies,” He said in a cheery voice, walking down between the cages, “We have finally arrived, I hope you enjoyed sailing with Ateez.”

I sneered at his words, but undressed myself, staring at the dress in my hands with disgust. It was heavy in my hands, and thick, the design tasteless the longer I looked at it. I couldn’t believe I was forced to dress into something so atrocious, but I just swallowed and pulled it on, instantly regretting it. It stuck to my skin and warmed me up, making my skin itchier. I haven’t washed up in days and it was only making me feel dirtier than I already was. San just smiled at me, not sincere nor happy, just mocking as his eyes ran over my body.

“What a fall from grace, angel, I suppose a dress like that wasn’t on your wish list, was it?” I scoffed and look at him as I have finished tying the front of the dress together.

“Orange is not my color, so thank you, for making me look uglier.” I bowed my head mockingly at him, his lean frame leaning against the doorway of the cage.

“I don’t mean to sadden you, but the men won’t be looking at your dress at all, angel, just at your pretty face.” Something wasn’t right about the dress though, it was sitting weirdly against my collarbones, I could feel it. I pulled on the sleeves of it, but it didn’t do much to fix the feeling, and San rolled his eyes before he walked up to me. I stepped back slightly, trying to maintain a normal distance between our bodies, but he just kept walking towards me until my back hit the wall, leaving no space for me to escape. My heart started thumping fast and I couldn’t help the sudden heat on my cheeks, so I just looked away, trying to conceal my face from him. He chuckled, but paid no mind as he raised his hand, about to touch the collar of my dress, right above my breast, but I slapped his hand away, whipping my head around to face him. San raised an eyebrow but tried to touch me again, and I just slapped his hand away again, but before I could lower my hand, he caught my wrist in his hand, holding me firmly.

“Don’t you think if I wanted to do anything to you I would’ve done it already?” He asked quietly, both eyebrows raised as he studied my face. I gulped but didn’t look away, just ripped my wrist out of his hand. He huffed and touched the collar of my dress again, not gentle at all, as he yanked on the fabric, making me gasp. Suddenly, a white collar, which I haven’t noticed was there before, came up from underneath my dress, going from my breasts up to my shoulders. I tensed when San’s finger lightly grazed against my skin, too close to my breast, but when I looked at him, he was already looking at me. I hissed and held his wrist the same way he held mine.

“You fixed the dress already,” I snapped, “No need to keep touching me.”

“I was just checking to make sure I did it right.” San answered smugly and I released his wrist, pushing him slightly back, hoping he’d get the message to disappear and leave me alone. He chuckled and batted his eye lashes at me mockingly before he turned around to walk away. I glared at the back of his head, wishing he would just disappear, never to be seen or heard of. I figured he wouldn’t be easy to take down in a fight due to his physique and sheer force he always seemed to use, but what if his attacker had the element of surprise? What if he didn’t see nor hear his attacker? What if he never even thought that person would attack him?

Without a second thought, my body flung into motion, acting on its own. I strained the chains of the handcuffs connected together and charged towards San as he was still close enough to attack from behind. I got on my tip toes and threw the chain around his neck, pulling it harshly towards me. The other girls exclaimed loudly as San gasped, his hands holding onto the chain barely, trying to pull it away from his throat, but I used all my force and power to choke him. Eunchae started crying loudly as San tried gasping for air, his body falling into mine almost as I applied even more force, panting as San was fighting back. My arms were straining and my wrists started aching from the handcuffs, but I didn’t stop pulling on the chain, determined to get the others and myself out of here before it was too late. But my initial thoughts about San turned out to be true, he was a lot stronger than he looked like, and with one harsh tug, I face planted into his wide and firm back, knowing that I messed up really bad now. The other girls suddenly went quiet and all was heard was San’s ragged breathing, his back moving up and down quickly. I shuddered and prepared myself for the repercussion of my actions, which came straight away. San turned around and his dark eyes fell on mine as he grabbed me by the hair harshly, a new glint in his eyes as he watched me enraged. My cuffed hands were behind his back now and I tried to break free, raise the chain over his head and push him away, but San didn’t allow me to do so. His flexed palm came flying towards my face and I tried to cover away, but to my surprise, he hit my Adam’s apple with such force that all air left my lungs instantly, making me fall forward, into him. Despite trying to breathe, my throat closed up and I could do nothing as I started choking in San’s arms, his hand still holding my hair harshly, looking down at me. As dark spots appeared in my vision I could swear San’s eyes softened just a bit, a sinister smirk appearing on his lips. And then everything went black.

            After getting knocked unconscious I woke up to being carried by San, the hot sun beaming down on my face. I gasped as I looked around, noticing that we were off the ship, even far away from the shore. Eunchae seemed to be walked by Mingi meanwhile another woman by a man I didn’t know, leading the group. I wasn’t chained up anymore and as I looked around, assessing the situation, San gave me one warning glare and muttered that if I tried running away or creating a scene he’d slit my throat before I could scream. That scared me enough to behave as we were led towards a run-down looking house, somewhere in the town. San placed me down minutes ago and I was able to walk on my own, his firm grip around my forearm keeping me close to his body. I took in our surroundings, trying to find a way of escape once San wasn’t by my side anymore, but we were quickly shoved inside the house, walked to a backroom, loud manly voices coming through the only other door in the room. My heart was in my throat, and I found myself sweating profoundly as San finally released me, giving me a glance before he disappeared through the door. I tried to take a peak while the door was open, and my heart sank when I saw tons of men in the other room. Was this really how our life would be from now on? Sold again and again, corrupted and used? I bit my lower lip and looked around the room, trying to find an exit, but there were no windows and the only door leading outside was blocked by Mingi, who seemed very focused in guarding the door. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked straight ahead, his hands clasped together in front of his body. He probably felt my gaze on him as he spared a glance my way, but when the other door opened, he quickly looked away. San stepped inside and dragged Hyolin away, slamming the door shut behind him. Eunchae started whimpering again as the other women gathered together, holding each other tightly. I found myself looking between the door and Mingi, begging with my eyes for him to let us go, but he wouldn’t look at me again. As Eunchae started crying, I found myself hugging her tightly, patting her head, telling her that everything would be alright. But nothing would be. She’ll be tainted, and I’ll be tainted too for life. I thought the Heavens wouldn’t do such thing to a human, but I realized my prayers were futile right now. No divine God would save me anymore. The door opened again and San took away another woman. Then another. And another. Two more went and when the door opened again, his eyes fell on Eunchae and I. I knew he’d come our way, so I pushed Eunchae behind myself and stood tall and fearless, staring him down. A smirk appeared on his lips as he stopped a few steps away from me, going to grab my cheek. I flinched and closed my eyes, but suddenly Eunchae’s wail snapped me back to reality, my eyes widening as San started pulling her after him.

“No—no—San—” But his glare instantly silenced me as he reached the door, eyes ablaze. Eunchae tried to wipe her tears away out of fear and tried to look somewhat composed, but one warning look from San made them fall again. I went to run up to them, but the other woman remaining in the room with me grabbed my wrist as San and Eunchae disappeared through the door, the young girl never to be seen again. My heart clenched and I wanted to cry out. I wanted to trash the room we were in. I wanted to rip the dress of myself and I wanted someone to punch me until my face was all bruised up, never to be called beautiful again. I hated everything about this. The tug on my wrist was harsh and I sniffed as I came face to face with the other woman, whose name was Dahyun.

“Pull it together,” She snapped, her own eyes teary, “You were the bravest out of all of us, if anyone can escape this, it’s you.”

I sniffed, a few tears falling from my eyes, “But he took Eunchae, I can’t run off like that—all of you will suffer, I can’t—”

“Stop thinking about us.” Dahyun’s voice raised but she glanced at Mingi and continued in a whisper, “We’re a lost cause, we don’t matter anymore. Save yourself while you can, Y/N, San seems to have taken a slight liking to you, use that to your advantage. You can charm anyone you want to.”

Her words gave me a little courage and I wiped my tears away, muttering a quiet ‘alright’ as the door opened and San looked inside. How did Eunchae get sold so fast? All of the other girls took around five to ten minutes, it’s been barely three. My heart clenched as I tried looking through the open door, the younger girl nowhere in sight. Dahyun seemed to have understood San as she sighed and released me, placing on a poker face as she walked towards him, brushing his hand off her forearm as she walked through the door by herself. San’s eyes met mine and his face was unreadable as he closed the door. I was next. I was the last one. After this, San would walk back to the pirate ship rich and I would walk away with a destroyed life. I had to stop this. I couldn’t just stand here and wait for my awful fate to happen.

“Do you enjoy this?” I found myself turning around, glaring at Mingi, “Watching women get sold off to some disgusting pigs?!”

Mingi didn’t react as he stared at the wall blankly, “Does it bring satisfaction to you seeing us in pain and despair? Are we really just some objects in your eyes?”

I was trying to make him feel any sort of emotion, but Mingi just sighed and slightly glanced at me.

“Please, I don’t deserve this—”

“I know, but it’s none of my business what happens here.” Mingi finally has had enough, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me with pity, “Everyone on the ship makes money in their own ways and I won’t sabotage San’s way of working.”

I gulped, trying to convince him somehow to let me go, “This is not about San, Mingi. This is about you. Your morals and what you believe in. Your dignity and respect for others—for women.”

“Shut up, please,” The tall man looked at me defeated, his hands clenched into fists, “once San decides to do something, nobody can stop him. If you think me stepping aside and letting you run away will help, will save you, trust me…it won’t. You could hide anywhere in the four seas and four kingdoms, and San would still find you. And once he does, he won’t be nice to you, he won’t try and sell you off again, Y/N. He’ll torture you until you’re barely breathing and then he’ll kill you in the slowest way possible, making you regret that you dared run away. He’s scarier than you think and he’s certainly more dangerous than you could ever imagine.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the door opened behind me again. Mingi tensed and quickly averted his eyes back onto the wall, San raising an eyebrow at him as he walked up to me, grabbing my forearm and whirling me around. My jaw clenched and I looked to the side, ignoring San’s burning gaze on my face. I knew he wanted me to look at him, but I wouldn’t. I had enough of his disgusting face. Not wasting any more seconds, he started walking, dragging me after him as my legs refused to move on their own. I really didn’t want to go through the door and when San’s hand gripped the knob, I panicked.

“Please,” I gasped out, hands flying up and holding his cheeks, San’s eyes going wide, “Please, don’t do this to me. I can make you rich in other ways. I can—I can work for you for the rest of my life, please, don’t sell me off. I’ve—I’ve never been touched—by a man before—”

It felt humiliating admitting this to him, but this was my last chance, I had to do my best. San’s dark colored eyes stared deeply into mine, seemingly lost in them as I cupped his cheeks firmly, standing on my tip toes to try and make this more intimate. All I could do was whisper, too scared that my voice would shake if I spoke any louder, “I can sing, I have a beautiful voice. I’m sure you have connections, if you place me amongst wealthy people I can perform for them and all the money will go to you. All you have to do is give me pretty dresses and I’ll handle the rest myself, please, San.”

I really thought my words got through to him as he relaxed in my hold, one hand gently holding my hand against his cheek. He sucked in a deep breath and then his eyes hardened, making me shake my head in a plea. San slowly peeled my hands off his cheeks, tugging me closer as our noses were just inches away from each other.

“Behave.” Was all he said before the door was opened and I was walked outside, the breath knocked from my lungs as I took in the sight before me. At least fifteen men were in the room, sitting helter-skelter and watching me with curious eyes, which slowly turned lustful. I felt my body shake as San still held onto me harshly, making sure I wouldn’t run away. My legs felt numb, even if I tried to, I wouldn’t have been able to move. All of my nightmares sat right in front of me and I bit my lower as San cleared his throat.

“Im Y/N.” His voice held authority as he looked down on everyone, eyes slits, “Quite the beauty, as you can see. She’s a little bit temperamental, but she’s got a rather calm and sweet nature. And I can assure you her voice is just as beautiful as her face and body.”

My jaw clenched and I side glanced San, feeling his grip tighten around me in warning. Everyone was quiet as they watched me and when San nudged me, I understood. He wanted me to sing. But I didn’t want to sing. I felt like a bird held in a cage, only used when needed, never to be free again. Like an imprisoned nightingale. I gulped once and closed my eyes, sighing loudly. If he wanted me to sing, I would sing. The first few octaves were quiet and frail as my voice wavered, but I quickly corrected my pitch and started singing the song about a poor girl taken hostage in a fire exchange between bandits and the constables, only to die an unfortunate death when her kidnapper accidentally killed her after promising to release her once the constables stopped chasing them. The song was short and sad, it usually made people cry, even I felt like crying right now, understanding the poor girl from the song very well. Claps erupted throughout the room, but I didn’t open my eyes, I didn’t want to see who would be my buyer. San had to say nothing as the men started shouting ridiculous sums of money, each one of them trying to be the highest bidding. The room went silent when a deep voice shouted that they were offering five gold bars and a sack full of coins. I heard San gasping quietly beside me and my eyes flew open, falling on a man in his mid-thirties, a black mustache on his face. His eyes were kind and his face friendly as he smiled at me, dressed better than anyone else in the room. Why did he want me? To make me his own captive bird? Despite being the most well dressed in the room, and the kindest and purest looking, there was something in his eyes which sent chills down my body and I knew that my life wouldn’t be long next to that man.

“Sold to the man with the white hat!” San suddenly exclaimed, beaming at the man and bowing his head as he started dragging me back to the room I was held in until now. I looked at him confused, but when he opened the door, Mingi already had a white dress in his hands, waiting for me. San said nothing as he pushed me inside and then slammed the door shut behind me, leaving me with Mingi. My heart was beating like crazy when Mingi walked up to me, carefully extending his arms for me to take the dress, but my legs gave out and I fell forward. Mingi went stiff as I held onto him, suddenly crying into his chest, too short to reach any higher. It took him a few seconds before he reacted, but he started patting my back awkwardly, trying to calm me down. I was bawling by now and I realized how vulnerable Mingi was being right now, perhaps the Heaven’s offered me one last chance. A chance I instantly took. I gripped his arms firmly and kneeled him in the crotch abruptly, making him cry out. I pushed him away and raced towards the door, finding it unlocked. I flung it open and cried out in happiness, not looking back as I took off sprinting, trying to find the center of the town we were in, needing to find the constable this instant. My dress was too long and too thick, but I didn’t care as I raised them above my knees and ran around like a mad woman, getting strange looks from the people walking down the streets, my cheeks still wet from my tears. I was panting by the time I made it to the busier part of the town and I allowed myself to stop for a minute to try and catch my breath. People walked around, all busy with their own things, merchants shouting whatever they had to offer at their stalls. The sun beamed down on me and I couldn’t have felt even more blessed as I allowed myself to chuckle in pure happiness. I was free.

I looked around again, and to utmost luck, my eyes fell on a man wearing a uniform, signaling he was from the night watch. It didn’t matter what his function was as long as he was a figure of authority, someone whom I could ask for help from. The officer was looking around too, watching the people, and when his eyes stopped on me, he slightly smiled. My heart somersaulted and I took off towards him, mouth already forming to cry out for him to help me, when an all too familiar hand around my waist gripped me and turned me around. I bumped into the body, starting to struggle against him, when suddenly a sharp knife was pressed against my liver. It cut through the dress I was wearing and my breath stuttered as I looked up in San’s angry eyes. He found me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip myself away from him. I wanted to punch and kick him until he wasn’t breathing anymore.

“If you scream, angel, I swear on the Heavens I will kill you right here.” I whimpered when I felt the knife pressing against my skin harder, gripping San’s biceps as if that would’ve stopped him from doing anything to me. San’s eyes darted to the side and I followed his sight, a lump forming in my throat as the officer was walking towards us, eyebrows furrowed. San looked back down at me, eyebrows slightly furrowing before he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. I started protesting, gripping his biceps even harder, hoping he’d release me from the pain, but he just pressed his lips harder against mine. I glanced at the officer with desperation written all over my face and San swiftly pulled back just enough to stare in my eyes threateningly, his lips touching mine as he hissed at me.

“If you don’t make it look like we’re a couple, I will torture you until you beg me to kill you.” I really, really wanted to cry, but as San’s lips pressed against mine again, I kissed him back. I made no effort to follow his lead or put any power in the kiss, just smacked my lips against his a few times, hoping it would be enough as I started feeling light headed from the heath and the terror San put me through. His lips were finally away from mine.

“You shouldn’t run away every time we have an argument, angel.” San spoke loudly enough for the officer to hear us as he was close enough, the knife from San’s hand magically having disappeared, “I’m always worried sick about you.”

I just stared into San’s eyes blankly, seeing the officer from the corner of my eyes walk off with a smile, shaking his head. No. I was back in the arms of my kidnapper. Why did I try so hard if it was in vain in the end? San let out a long breath, his forehead wrinkling as he scrunched up his nose, sweat glistening on his temples. He hung his head low, sucking his cheeks in as he held onto my waist with his other hand too, flushing me against his body.

“If I wouldn’t have sold you off already, I would really kill you right now, Y/N.” My jaw clenched at his words and I slightly pushed his biceps, making him look at me.

“I told you I could get you more money if you just allowed me to sing to the wealthy, San.” I tried to coerce him into finally giving in to me, “You get this large sum just once, it will go away eventually. But if you keep me around—if you let me sing—I can bring you weekly the same amount.” I was reaching, but it was worth the try. San didn’t seem to believe me either, and I could feel the resilience radiating off him, so I tried my last method. The method I hated the most, but if it would soften him enough to give in, I had to do it. I cupped his cheeks again and watched his eyes slightly widen as I closed mine, pressing my lips against his. San went stiff as our warm lips molded together, and despite me trying to move mine, his didn’t move. He wasn’t reciprocating it. He refused to fall for my last trick. And it truly was my last trick as I started pulling back defeated, eyes filling with tears, when San cupped my cheeks harshly and crashed his lips against mine. He wasn’t gentle at all, not that I expected him to be, as his lips moved hungrily against mine, devouring me. It was hard to keep up with him as I have never kissed anyone before, but I found my heart thumping loudly in my eardrums as our teeth clashed together, San dominating the kiss. His grip was crushing my cheeks and my lungs were screaming for air as my hands had fallen to his hips, gripping him, reminding myself that I couldn’t fall for his trick. My body was reacting weirdly to his actions, yearning for his lips as he pulled back, taking my lower lip in between his teeth, sucking on it. I felt my cheeks heat up at the action and I was embarrassed, slightly disgusted for making out with him, but fired up. San panted against my lips and he chuckled smugly as I refused to open my eyes, ashamed.

“This took an interesting turn of events, angel, don’t you think?” I didn’t answer him, afraid of what my voice would sound like, but when he nudged my nose with his, I wordlessly nodded, “What did you say? That you can bring me more money weekly than what that crazy rich man just offered me?”

My eyes flew open and the glint of mischief in San’s eyes brought a sense of hope into my system, truly so emotionally tired, that I believed he was genuine this time, “Yes, I can.”

San’s chuckle was high pitched and a crazy look appeared on his face as he bumped his nose against mine again, pushing my head back as he released my cheeks, “Very well, angel, very well.”

I didn’t fully understand what was happening, but I released his hips too as San’s arm went around my shoulders, pulling me into his side as he started walking, “Don’t think you’ll ever be free again, Y/N, because from today on…you’re mine.”

From getting sold off to getting owned by a pirate, neither sounded good nor like a pleasant life. I really didn’t want to cry anymore, but I still wasn’t free. No, I was just owned for life by a deranged and dangerous pirate, who would find me no matter where I went.

I was afraid not even my fantasy worlds were able to save me from the nightmare I found myself tangled up in.

Next part (divider)