#many talented shipmates

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 1

The Crew's Whore (Part 1)

It's KINKTOBER BABY!!! I'm celebrating early and it's getting weird. Making a multi part series about being the Straw Hat's plaything. If anyone has any suggestions about other chapters, I'm happy to hear them! I'm open to almost anything! Sanji is first, because like? Of course he is.

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great talent. Your years working as a high-end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy. 

Pairing: SUB Sanji x DOM afab!reader

WC: 3600 lmao

TW: sub and dom situation, she tops him, groping, masturbation, pet names, submissive behavior, kissing, voyeurism, BONDAGE, rope play, BDSM, cropping, riding crop usage, smacking, edging, teasing, submissive sanji :(, vaginal sex, fingering, begging.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 1: The Cook

You had been sailing with the Straw Hat crew for just a week now after agreeing to join their band of pirates. You made an agreement to join them not only to aide in their battles but also to provide your… services. You always had an insatiable sexual appetite, hence becoming such a professional in your line of work. After a week with not a single suitor, you had felt yourself become needy and frustrated. It had been 7 days and not a single member of your newly found crew had come to seek you out for some relief. Not even Sanji… 

You were so sure he was going to be rapping at your door the first night you spent aboard the Sunny. When you agreed to join the crew and allow your body to be used by any of them at any time, Sanji’s nose sprung a leak so strong that he had to be carried back to his room partially conscious. 

So when a week had passed and he hadn’t made you a proposal, you were concerned. He had barely even fawned over Robin or Nami either, actually… He seemed off. You started to watch him closer throughout the day. He was constantly running back and forth between dishes, preparing meals, setting tables, and taking inventory of the pantry, he just looked so spread thin, not like the charismatic love drunk cook you had gotten to know. You realized that had he not been so busy, of course he would have made a pass at you, he just needed to relax and frankly, so did you. 

The hour grew late and you knew while most of your shipmates would be in bed, Sanji would be in the galley finishing up the dishes from dinner. You finish the glass of white wine you were enjoying on the deck and walk into the kitchen. 

“Y/n my darling,” Sanji sighed out tiredly as he saw it was you who entered the galley. “Do you need more wine? I can open another bottle if you just give me a moment I have-“ He looked for a towel to wipe his hands dry of the dish water. 

“Sanji thanks but no, it’s fine. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m a big girl, I can get it myself. I don’t want to make more work for you.”

“If it’s for you, my love, it’s never work.” 

You chuckled and winked at him as you headed towards the wine pantry. You perused the shelves for a bit before grabbing a bottle off the rack and walked back out to the kitchen where Sanji had returned to washing dishes. You noticed his broad shoulders tensing under his dress shirt as he continued to clean. He really was pretty. You walked towards him. “You still keep that wine key in your pants pocket, Sanji?” You ask him, a sultry low tone in your voice. 

“Oh, um, yeah, I’ll grab it hold on-“ Sanji stutters out as he removes his hands from the sink.

“No need.” You came up behind him and snaked your hand into the front pocket of his dress slacks.  In doing this you pressed your breasts against his back. You fished around in his pocket as you brought your other hand to grab his hip. You felt the wine key immediately but you moved your hand past it, feeling around pretending to still look for it. You moved you hand over inside his pocket and softly placed it over his cock and you felt it twitch in his briefs through the thin fabric of the pocket. 

“Y/n!” Sanji was turning bright red and a single drop of blood spilled from his nose. 

“Is that a bottle opener in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” You smiled wickedly up at him peeking around his shoulder. You softly squeezed his hardening dick. Sanji had gone into shock, your hand was feeling him up through his pants and he could barely think anymore. 

You continued, “Sanji you do so much for us. You work so hard every day to keep us fed and safe. You make so many hard choices and spend all day taking care of everyone except for yourself. Don’t you think you deserve a break? A break from everything? A time for you just to let your mind go completely blank?” 

You purred into his ear as you continued to very slightly stroke him and squeeze him through his pants pocket. Sanji was breathing heavily and couldn’t get out any words, his mind short circuiting. 

“You don't have to answer right this second, but if you’ll let me help you, come to my room in an hour.” You pulled your hand back out of his pocket and brought the wine key with you on your way out. You give him a seductive eyebrow raise before you left the kitchen and brought your wine bottle with the newly acquired opener down to your room. 

You stripped your clothes off upon entering your room and started opening up the wine bottle. You took a swig straight from the perfectly chilled bottle and giggled to yourself. This would be fun. You knew he would show up, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind he could resist you after the little show you put on in the kitchen. You head over to your walk in closet and grabbed a black silk robe with lace dripped off the sleeves and slipped it on. You walked even further into your closet into your favorite section. All of your favorite toys and naughty items were hung neatly on the walls and packed into shelves. You smiled, finally getting back to your old self again. You wanted to give Sanji the night of his life, especially after how well he takes care of you and the rest of the crew. 

You ghost your hands over various bondage items before grabbed old reliable, some simple red rope. You decided to get your softest crop, knowing that Sanji probably wasn’t used to this type of sexual encounter. You didn’t want to really hurt him… not tonight at least. 

You laid both items out on your bed and you sat down against the cushions and settled in with your bottle of wine. You couldn’t help but feel warm all over, electric with the excitement of taking a new lover. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together, your cunt starting to get wet. 

*knock knock* 

“Come in.” You shout as you get off the bed and walk towards the door. Sanji opens it and shyly steps inside. 

“Y/n… I.. don’t know what to say… I just… I guess… I need it.” Sanji stumbled horribly over his  words, eyes glued to where your robe dipped low into your cleavage. 

“Need what, Sanji?” You needed to hear him say it. 

“I need your help, Y/n. I had all these grand plans to impress you and make our first time together perfect and romantic but I just… I’ve been so exhausted… I’m so burnt out…” He sighed out, clearly so stressed. 

“I know you are… That’s why I’m going to help you relax. You don’t have to think about a thing… Or lift a single finger… Do you trust me, Sanji?” You approach him and start wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your face close to nuzzle his nose with yours. “Let me relieve your stress tonight.” 

He answers you with a passionate kiss grabbing the sides of your face with both hands. He continues to kiss you with fervor as he pushes you back towards the bed. He pulls away, there’s so much lust in his eyes, but you can tell he’s exhausted. 

“Yes, I want that. Please." He pleaded for you. 

You smiled at him. This was going to be fun. 

“Ok. Strip, then. Completely naked on the bed. Spread eagle. Quickly.” Your voice turned commanding as soon as you heard his consent. He stared at you for a moment dumbfounded before he started loosening his tie and stripping off his clothes. Once his dress socks were off he practically jumped onto your bed. His cock was already standing at attention from your teasing earlier in the galley. 

*pretty…* you thought. 

You grabbed your rope from the corner of the bed and started tying each of his limbs to your bedframe. It wasn’t tight, or stretching him at all, he had plenty of slack rope for movement, but he certainly wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Now sweet boy… You’re going to do everything I say… no matter what… Understand? And if you need a break, you say “strawberry”. Got it?” You ask him as you tighten each knot. Sanji nods excitedly. 

“No no,” You smack his naked thigh with 2 fingers. He winced.  “You tell me out loud.”

“Yes, y/n. I understand. I will do anything you say.” 

“Hm… Good.” You smirk to yourself as you bring an armchair to sit directly in front of the bed in Sanji’s line of sight. His chest was heaving, he was feeling so many things. Excitement. Nervousness. Everything. His cock was already stating to leak and you had done nothing more than tie him to the bed. You met his gaze. You slipped your robe to the floor revealing your full naked body to him without breaking eye contact. He falters and drops his eyes to your gorgeous, bare body. His mouth drops open. 

You grab his suit jacket off the floor and reach into the inner pocket grabbing his smokes and his lighter before dropping the jacket back down. You saunter slowly over to the chair and sit down, crossing your legs and leaning back. You slide a cigarette out of the pack and light it. 

“Ohhhh Black-leg…” Your blow out with a puff of smoke. “Look at you now… So sweet and willing… Can you imagine if people saw you like this?” You smiled as you took another drag. “Even that swordsman?”

“Have you had him?” Sanji was burst out of his lust filled haze at the mention of his rival. 

You laughed “Oh sweetheart no. He’s so clueless, I don’t even think he knows what I’m here for. I haven’t had anyone on the crew yet. You’re going to be my first.”

You blow out a cloud of smoke as you lean back further and spread your legs for him. Sanji could see the glistening slick on the lips of your perfect cunt. You take a last drag of the cigarette and snuffed it out in the ashtray on your side table.  You continue,

“And they say you always remember your first…” Sanji audibly whimpers at your words. His cock was leaking precum down his veiny shaft. He tugged lightly at his restraints, thinking maybe he could get free and grab you. He couldn’t. You were a professional, after all. 

You grab your breasts and begin to toy with your nipples, breathing out an airy sigh. After kneading and playing with your tits for awhile, you snake your left hand down your body. You use your pointer and middle finger to spread your pussy wide open for Sanji to see your swollen clit and leaking hole. 

Sanji lurches his body forward instinctively, desperately trying to get closer to your dripping cunt that was putting on a show for him. He groans loudly. 

“Please, Y/n… Let me touch you please… I can make you feel good I promise!” 

You tut at him while bringing your right hand down to your pussy and using 3 fingers to slowly rub your clit, “no no sweet boy, you do so much already. You need to rest.” Your smile was evil.

Soft little sighs leave your mouth as you pleasure yourself. Sanji’s chest was heaving dramatically as he watched you, no more words leaving his mouth, only heavy breaths. You bring down your fingers and push them inside of yourself, moaning and throwing your head back in the process. You immediately pushed them up towards your spot and rubbed it forcefully. Your pussy was so slick that the heel of your palm slipped effortlessly across your clit as you pumped your fingers inside of yourself. The pressure in your lower belly starting building as you moaned louder. 

You pick your head up and look at the gorgeous blonde submissive in front of you. God, you missed this. Fully bringing a man to his sexual limits. He looked so sad but so turned on, beads of sweat running down his forehead. You continued fucking yourself to orgasm as his eyes were locked onto your stuffed cunt. 

“Do you wanna watch me cum, sweet boy? Would that make you happy?” You breathed out at him as you brought yourself right to the edge of climax. 

“GOD FUCK yes, please God yes y/n please I want to see it so badly! You’re so beautiful!” Sanji was so desperate he was shouting as you. His cock twitched painfully against his belly, leaking precum onto his abs. The sight allowed you to shudder forward into a powerful orgasm. “Fuck!” You shriek out as you squirt out warm liquid over your hand. You shake and spasm as your orgasm finished wreaking havoc on your body. 

You pull out your fingers and sit up in your chair as you regain strength. You rise up and walk towards Sanji’s head laying on one of your pillows. “Open.”

He turns towards you to meet your eyes, he obliges. You shove your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. He immediately wraps his tongue around your fingers, trying desperately to taste the flavors of your delicious cunt. His eyes roll back in his head, he closes his mouth around your fingers and sucks them needing to get every last drop down his throat. 

“Oh what a good boy you are, taking your reward so well!” You praise him as he sucks your fingers. He lets out a massive groan around your hand and his body lurches forward. You turn your head to look down his body. 

He had just cum. From sucking on your fingers. There was a massive trail of semen across his abdomen. You gasp. You reach to your left and grab the smooth riding crop laying on the bed. A disastrous smile spreads across your face. 

“You! little! slut!” You smack his left thigh with your crop. Sanji winces and gasps. “Look at you! I didn’t know you were such a desperate little thing!” You punctuate your teasing with more slaps to his thighs and chest as you circle the bed, like a hyena stalking its prey. 

“Just… Just for you… my love… Please…” Sanji was breathing so hard, after cumming untouched he still felt unsatisfied. The leather cracking on his thighs was providing him the perfect amount of pain for his dick to perk up again. He needed your body on him now…. Your mouth, your hands, your pussy ANYTHING, he needed more. 

“Please what, greedy boy? It seems you’ve already gotten a reward. What else could you possibly need, hmm?” You giggled wickedly as you give him more light smacks with your crop. 

“Please fuck me y/n! Please fuck me! Anything you want, just please touch me!” Sanji shouts at you. He tugs violently at his restraints, needing to grab your body and ravish it like you deserve. 

“shhhh.. relax honey.. you’ve done so good.. I’ll help you now… just relax, okay?” You kiss his forehead before dropping your crop and hopping up to straddle him on the bed. You begin kissing his neck and sucking dark red hickeys onto it so that he could prove to his rival that he was the one to take you first. You knew he’d love that. Sanji moans out under your deep kisses on his collar bone. He jerks his hips upwards towards your core, trying to feel some wetness or pressure on his hard cock. 

You reach down and line his leaking dick up with your entrance. It was so velvety and thick, you swipe it through your wetness a few times, gasping at the feeling of it’s mushroom tip pressing on your clit. 

“Goooood baby boy, so good.” You coo to him as you sink down on his length. Your dominant persona faltered for only a brief moment as he stretched your hole so deliciously. 

“Fuck…” You gasped out. 

“Miss y/n please… I need more… please… want you to fuck me so bad, need to feel you so bad…” Sanji was nearly crying as he tried to lift his hips off the bed to drill into you, but wasn’t able to due to his restraints. 

“Oh don’t worry my sweet boy, once I get off from your big cock I’ll let you fill me up so good okay? You just have to wait until I’m finished, you can do that for me, right baby?”

“YES yes please I want to fill you! Yes, I’ll do anything!” 

You smile at him and hold the side of his face in your hands. You start to grind yourself onto his fat cock, bringing yourself towards another orgasm. You pushed your thumb into his mouth, Sanji immediately wrapped his lips around it and sucked at it desperately. Continuing to ride Sanji, you leaned back so that you could rub your clit as his member rubbed back and forth against that perfect spot inside of you. Your moans became louder and louder as you used his gorgeous body for your own pleasure.

He released your thumb with a wet pop. “My l-love… it’s too much… you’re too tight and wet, I’m going to-“

You stopped moving and leaned forward to wrap your hand gently around his throat. Your fingers were wet on his skin from rubbing your clit. 

“No. No you’re not. You haven’t asked and I haven’t given you permission. I am not finished. You haven’t earned your reward.”

Sanji gulped loudly and nodded his head. “O-of course love, I-I only want your pleasure.” 

“Good.” You smiled down at him as you resumed your actions to bring yourself to climax. It was only a few more moments before you found yourself being close to that edge again. You grinded your pelvis so deeply into his, burying his cock into you and rubbing your clit against the skin at his base. 

“YES, fuck!” You threw your head back as your cunt came all over Sanji’s cock. Squeezing and creaming all over his shaft, Sanji was in sensory overload. 

“Please miss! I need to-! Fuck! Now, please!” Sanji pleaded with you.

Your voice came out hoarse and tired, still wrecked from your powerful orgasm. “Yes sweet boy, fill me up all the way baby. You’ve been so good honey, cum inside of me.” You softly breath out to him as you try to come down. You feel a hard thrust from below and Sanji screams out, 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” A tear spills past his lash line as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. Feeling the stress and pressure of his day leave his body, he shudders. 

You feel the final pulses of his orgasm fade out and you move yourself gently off of his softening cock. You begin untying the rope knots around his limbs as he tries to collect himself, brain broken from cumming so hard. You finish untying him and you run your hand over the marks left by your riding crop. You hobble over to your side table and pour out a glass of water. You bring the blanket at the foot of the bed and spread it out over Sanji’s sweaty body, tucking it in at the sides. 

“hey.. sit up baby. Have a little water before you sleep, okay?” You coo in his ear softly as you stroke his hair. Sanji sits up on his elbows weakly and grabs the glass you offered him. He gulps down the water and hands it back to you. You place the glass on the side table and curl up by his side in bed. 

“So… How are you feeling?” You asked him, eager to provide him of any aftercare he needed. 

“Y/n I… It was perfect…” He turns to look at you in the eyes. “It was more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I feel so much better, like a weight is lifted off my chest. Thank you, y/n.” Sanji leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. 

“Good. I like when you’re happy. Foods better.” You smiled at him. He laughed. 

As you fell asleep in his arms he couldn’t help but to grin and think to himself, 

“Wait until fucking moss head finds out I was first…” 

[captainswanholidayspecialreruns]

Special Announcement

Hey guys, it's Kazzy here!

I started this blog back in the fall as a fun way to share CaptainSwan content and celebrate such a beautiful ship with such talented shipmates, and I've really enjoyed all the fun this blog has been. However, over the past few months, I've noticed my interest shifting into other fandoms, and running this blog has felt more like an obligation than a privilege. Because of that, I'm stepping down from my role of running this blog.

However, I love this blog and its events very much, and would love to see it continue for many more happy holidays to come, so I'm looking for a replacement who would like to take over running this blog. This would entail planning and organizing holiday events, making posts, finding mods if necessary, and any other tasks related to the blog (or delegation of such tasks.) I'm also willing to still help out as a consultant/graphic designer/tech support/mod for future events, especially the first few as you get the ball rolling.

If this sounds like something you'd be interested in, let me know, because I'd love to see this event in good hands!

Happy sails to you all!

✨ kazzy

[cssns]

Get to Know Your Mods

Our final mod is @ultraluckycatnd​! This is also her first year as a mod so give her a warm welcome!

How long have you been a part of the CS fandom?

I've been a part of the fandom for 10 years now. I stumbled upon a Tumblr post via Pinterest after the 3A finale, and down the rabbit hole I went.

What is your favorite part about fandom?

I love the camaraderie between everyone, no matter their likes/dislikes, where they're from, what language they speak, etc. We all have a common interest, and it's amazing to me how diverse we really are.

What drew you to this event?

I've been a beta for this event for many years now and have been amazed at the content that our wonderfully talented shipmates have come up with over the years. When I was asked to join as a mod this year, I enthusiastically said yes!

Will you be participating either as a writer or artist? If so, what will you be doing?

I'm nowhere near that talented, but I will serve as beta for a few of our wonderful writers.

What do you do in your "real life?"

I'm finishing up my 18th year teaching music, all within the same school district. Currently, I am a General Music teacher at an elementary school (K-5) and 5th grade band director, as well as the flute clinician for the high school band.

What are you most looking forward to in this event?

I'm looking forward to all of the stories and art that are going to be produced. I've seen the list of ideas for the stories, and as an avid reader, I can't wait to read them all! And the art I know is going to be out of this world, helping those stories come to life.

[donteattheappleshook]

CS fics by @elizabeethan you must read!

Happy birthday @elizabeethan ! @snowbellewells and I had the same idea apparently but you deserve all the love for your fantastic stories on your birthday! 

Elizabeth have so many amazing, beautiful fics and so I’ve struggled to narrow it down to my absolute forever favorites. If you haven’t read one of them yet you’re missing out and you need to rectify that ASAP - your life will be better for it, trust me

The Sad Baker Killian series

Never More Than I Can Take 

holding my breath for you

From the Beginning 

What can I even say about this series - there aren’t even words. It’s the softest, most painful, hearbreakingly beautiful love story. Sad Killian is always one of my favorites but who knew that adding baker to that would just magnify it tenfold. Ugh this story is just - I can’t - just gfjdakvdsagl. Read it. 

Overboard  series

Ao3

Here we have a beautiful example of our lovely talented shipmate thinking she could get away with only writing us a oneshot of this breathtaking universe. And here we are 6 installments in and if you don’t think I would devour a hundred thousand more you’re wrong. I need this as a whole damn novel that just never ever ends. The sad silver Killian and damaged Emma, the way you’ve written the emotion and the love between these two, the way you created such a full and complete world which feels so real and beautiful while still keeping our favorite ship so true to their characters - I’m in awe. Sometimes I’ll just start thinking about this fic and sit there for a good long while in amazement at your talent. Did I mention I’m obsessed with this series already? Perfection.  

Watch the Sunlight Fade

UUUUGGGGHHHHHH this fic. It’s like you wrote everything I wished Sons of Anarchy had been and then multiplied the amazingness by a billion. This one is so so painful to read and so incredibly beautiful. Strap yourselves in for a hell of an angsty ride that will be 100% worth it. Prepare yourself to want to murder Neal like you never have before. Prepare yourself to want to give Killian a giant fucking hug and take care of him. The way you slow burned this fic too is just stunning too and I can’t even get my words to work right in saying how much I love this fic. Everyone needs to read it and give it the appreciation it deserves because WOW this story gives me life. 

Steal Away

So there’s obviously a pattern starting here of @elizabeethan hurts me to the deepest part of my soul and I thank her for it. I was obsessed with this fic from the moment you suggested the premise and honestly apart from Overboard which will forever be one of my all time favorite fics, this might be my favorite of yours. This fic starts as a robery gone wrong and then becomes something so much more than I ever expected or knew I needed. It had me crying, like ugly cry in public but don’t stop reading because you need to know what happens next, and then just feeling so many things that I couldn’t do anything but yell at you about it and then I think this one just renewed my belief in love because you wrote their characters and their story and their emotions so perfectly and everything feels so REAL and heartbreaking and then so so hopeful. This fic is a masterpiece and I would (have?) read it a million times over. 

Spaces Between Us

I remember this fic starting with “do you think people would be mad if...” and man I think that is how you need to approach everything you write forever lmao. Will it make them mad? I don’t know but it will absolutely make them rage at your horrible villains, want to cry for Emma and be begging you to let our babies have a torid affair and then maybe murder someone (disclaimer: there is no murder in this fic- but you’d consider it a reasonable choice if there were). You absolutely broke my heart with this story, poor Emma trapped in her relationship with Walsh, the second chance love story that felt so real that I was blown away. I’ve always found it hard to read those because I couldn’t get on board with my ship breaking up in the first place let alone how they’d end up together again but then you wrote this fic and I get it now. And you brought them together again in such a beautiful way with all the angst I could possibly handle. You write angst so well but you also have such a talent with bringing happiness and love and hope back to the story at the end of it all and this fic is a perfect example of that. 

Between the Morning and the Night

Finally I had to throw this hilarious little fic in. I swear I’d have listed every single one of your shorter fics - there were so many I loved and everyone should go read them all but I had to narrow it down for this list and I ahve to say that this might be my absolute favorite of your standalones. The premise is so fucking funny - Will noticing the scratches on Killian’s back and Killian in full blown panic about David finding out just who gave them to him - dead. Of course, beautiful, talented, amazing author that you are you gave us feels like you wouldn’t believe turning this funny little oneshot into a truly stunning piece of writing. I love this fic so much. Like just: 

“Good god, mate.”

He turns, surprise in his eyes when he faces his friend and colleague and is met with his shocked, horrified expression.

“What?”

He knows he’s red and sweaty after a workout, but it can’t be anything different from how he always looks when they return to the locker room.

“I mean, were you attacked?”

💀💀💀💀💀

Bless this fic and bless you for writing it

I hope you’ll all go and read the incredible fics that Slibby has written over the last couple years (she wrote 54 in like 2 years???? are you real though, girl??) and give her the love and appreciation she deserves on this the most special of days!

Happy birthday again @elizabeethan you’ve been the best pocket friend a girl could ask for and I’m forever grateful that the fandom brought us together 

@kmomof4 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @jennjenn615 @dramioneswan @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @batana54 @lfh1226-linda @csalltheway @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @onceratheart18 @ownedbycaptainswan @teamhook @pirateprincessofpizza @lostintheskyfaraway @zaharadessert @thejollyroger-writer @ultraluckycatnd @justanother-unluckysoul @spartanguard @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @wefoundloveunderthelight @sailtoafarawayland @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @superchocovian @snowbellewells @xellewoods @sals86 @karlyfr13s ​ @ouatpost ​ @skairipakomtrikru @lonelyspectator12   @anmylica   @alexa-fangirl-forever @inspiredbystardust @marcella2727 @paradiselady19 @koryandr @killiansprincss

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@killedarlings​ asked:  " Hold still, dum dum. "  Despite her chastise, Perona can't help but giggle as she gives a playful flick to Ikkaku's nose, pulling her hand away before the eyeliner could leave any unnecessary marks.  Once the other woman ceases her fidgeting, the ghost princess leans back in to finish her work.  And although it was minimal, a simple gloss to her plush lips, a color to shadow her lids, and a winged liner to further accentuate her eyes, there was something still inherently enjoyable about doing another woman's makeup that Perona liked — especially one who did not get indulge in such cosmetics often due to the company she keeps being exclusively of men.  " There, all done. "  Perona leans back to observe her handiwork, a satisfied smile appearing on her face as one of her Hollows hands over a pocket mirror.  " What do you think?  Shachi and Penguin are totes gonna have heart attacks when they see you! "

Ikkaku wanted to stick out her tongue in defiance of being bossed around by the other woman, but held herself back. After all, she had asked Perona to gussy her up and make her look as girly as possible, and while her girlfriend could be a spoiled princess at times, she was extremely generous when it came to her requests. Especially when it came to something she excelled in, like makeovers.

So she did her best to hold still so as to not undo Perona’s hard work, even if Ikkaku wanted to fidget. Yes, she knew she was a good-looking woman, and she shouldn’t take her shipmates’ words to heart, but she’d been getting so tired of Shachi and Penguin and so many of the other guys acting like she wasn’t as pretty or feminine as other women. They were never said maliciously, but the occasional comments of how they hadn’t seen a woman in weeks, or saying she “didn’t count” when talking about girls, stung after a while. And then there was how they’d behaved on Amazon Lily...

Yeah, the engineer needed a confidence boost, especially where her femininity was concerned. And she knew her cute, fashionable, talented girlfriend was just the person to give it.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Ikkaku’s heart swelled a bit. “I look...beautiful,” she said, perhaps a little disbelieving. She’d expected to look cute or sexy, but honestly, thanks to Perona’s talent with makeup, she looked glamorous. It was a simple look, designed to enhance her natural features, but it was so undoubtedly feminine she felt like she was looking at a fashion model or a portrait painted by some renown artist in a rich guy’s mansion, not her own reflection.

Not wanting to risk ruining the eyeliner or mascara that was just beginning to dry, Ikkaku held back tears, instead kissing Perona gently but sincerely in thanks. “You are absolutely amazing,” she said, a bit choked up but grinning widely. “The boys probably won’t even recognize me. I...thank you, Perona. I know the makeup isn’t really necessary but this really, really means a lot.”

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: Holiday Edition :)

I’m sorry to be later in the day than usual with posting this, but I couldn’t let this Monday escape me without posting some holiday season fics that I love!  Guaranteed to give you all the warm and fuzzy, happily ever after feels (much like a Hallmark movie, only probably better written and starring our Savior and our Captain! <3)  Hope you will enjoy...and maybe find something you haven’t read before...

“Cold Winter’s Light” by: @whimsicallyenchantedrose​

I thought of this one shot and wanting to re-read it first thing this morning when I learned my school was on a 2-hour delay.  Originally written for a CS Secret Santa gift, Jennifer gives us all the CS family holiday fluff and domestic adorableness we didn’t get to see in canon, with a perfect helping of the rest of the extended family and Storybrooke gang mixed in as well.  Not to mention that there’s a lovely surprise as well. :)

“A Pirate’s Christmas Carol” by: @whimsicallyenchantedrose​

I had forgotten about this two part fic until I went looking for the other, saw it in Jennifer’s stories and remembered how much I loved this one as well.  This one is a little more “feelsy” but it still has a lovely and meaning happy ending.  You definitely should check it out if you haven’t read it.

“Home for Christmas” by: @startswithhope​

This is a short MC which starts of showing Emma and Killian as best friends, and her standing by him as his father and half brother come back into his life.  It’s really lovely, both seeing Killian regain some of his family (not without bumps in the road, but still) and also seeing CS go from friendship to coupledom in a completely different way than on the show, but which feels very much in character!

“Christmas in Storybrooke” by: @searchingwardrobes​

This short MC is unique in that it is really a grown up Henry Mills who is the main character and it’s just such a different and very heartfelt and modern AU.  There are still tons of lovely married CS moments, as well as fun cameos by Henry’s younger siblings and many of the SB folk, as well as Henry’s future True Love.  It’s SO wonderful!!! If you missed it last year when Melanie wrote it, now is your chance to experience it for yourself! :0

“Underneath the Tree” by: @searchingwardrobes​

Oh my goodness, this one shot! It could be a little Hallmark movie (and boy do I wish it was - starring Jennifer Morrison and Colin O’Donoghue, of course!)  I love the whole concept of getting Emma a real tree for the first time. How they come together throughout the stories.  It just warms my heart so perfectly!  I believe this was for last year’s CSSS event, but I am willing to be you’ll love it this year just as much!

***And, for an added bonus, if you’re in the mood for something a bit more steamy... “Hot Toddy” by: @startswithhope​

and “Decking the Halls and Slippery Falls” by: @hollyethecurious​

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

When your brain and work won't let you rest...

You end up really far behind on reading fics!! I think I'll spend this weekend reading!

[hertzwritings]

The high seas

A/N: The way Tumblr kind of connects people truly astounds me. Through my writings, I met this amazing, sweet, kind, loving and downright perfect person who puts up with my weird ramblings and even weirder headcanons. @buckyshattergirl​ honest to all the gods in all the universes, I love you and you make me feel all asjkhfdæfdgsfk. Thank you for you.

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic – anything you want, really, the sky is the limit!

Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me, and I have none.

MASTERLIST

SEBASTIAN STAN MASTERLIST

REQUESTS/ASK ME ANYTHING

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Contains: language, pirate-y things, suspension of disbelief just a little bit, mentions of sirens, mentions of blood, mentions of swords, Pirate!Bucky (because that is indeed a warning in and of itself), SMUT (MINORS DNI), just a quickie ish, p in v, unprotected sex 

W.C.: 4.470 (SORRY)

 The High seas

Captain James “Bucky” Barnes was many things. Feared, enormously talented with both a sword and a pistol, a brilliant navigator and his name traveled further than his ship did. He stood often at the rutter, salty sprays of seafoam coating his face as his eyes, that matched the sky above him and the sea under him, wandered to the far-off horizon, always looking for the next adventure and plunder.

When The Winter Soldier came across a shipwreck near Clew Bay and he saw a woman resting on jagged rocks, his brows furrowed. A white shirt, slightly wet from the sprays of the sea against the rocks, flowed in the wind, while a leather corset – the brown tones of it blackened by use – rested on her torso, male trousers on her legs and high boots. She looked like she was expecting them. Steve had looked questionable at the sight of a lone survivor, especially a woman, sitting on the rocks surrounded by pieces of wood and dead shipmates, but Bucky had barked an order to let her on the ship. The men didn’t dare disobey his order, even if they believed her cursed.

She hadn’t spoken for a few days, but at first sight of rebellion from the crew, she had squashed any and all inklings to her being nothing more than bad luck, when she threw her dagger and caught a feather to the mast, whilst she still stood near the rutter, eyes barely looking back at the mast. Her eyes searched the sea more often than his did.

From that day, nobody dared say anything. Even Sam had once spoken loudly that it seemed like she was good luck, seeing as they hadn’t had troubles with enemy-ships, nor the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of the water.

Bucky was inclined to agree.

He learned her name was Y/N, and that her ship had unfortunately gone down near Clew Bay because of a foolish navigator, that followed a siren’s song instead of his eyes. Many men had lost their life to the sea like that.

When they docked at St. Mary’s Island, the sun slowly setting, he let his eyes follow Y/N as she wandered off the ship to the nearest inn, her fingers twirling her silver dagger. He hummed and followed her and his crew, his long leather jacket flowing in the soft breeze, his boots echoing around the wooden docks. Yes, he was, in any man’s eye, frightening and his demeanor was more than enough to scare off anybody who tried to approach him. But not Y/N. She had followed him with her eyes through the inn and finally given him a small nod of respect when he sat down. He nodded back. He didn’t care about her gender; she was a brilliant navigator and an even better fighter. There was nothing to judge.

Sam had sat heavily next to him and looked at Y/N through narrowed eyes as she drank, seemingly very bored with the rowdy crowd around her. “Sometimes I find myself thinking that she’s not quite from this world, Buck.” He said. Sam’s eyes never did him a disservice. He spotted most if not all things, most people wanted to hide – it made him the perfect man for scouting and finding flaws and chinks in the armor. It was the reason he was called Falcon in common tongue. “Hm. What makes you say that?” Bucky amused the conversation, eyes on her. He was a man of few words and even fewer, when he found his eyes on her; she was a vision, truly, and when her hair whipped around her face, her eyes closed against the bright sun, he was almost ready to take her to his quarters. Sam shrugged.

“If I knew, I’d tell you. Just know I’m not the only one thinking it.” He said in a low voice, looking to Tony and Scott, who were whispering conspiratorially and glancing at Y/N – she had seen it as well, tipping her glass with a smirk to them.

A grimy man, dressed in the Queen’s uniform long since discolored by drink and wear, stalked to her and Bucky nearly got out of his chair to kill the man, who put his grimy paws on Y/N, but Sam held him back. “Watch.” He pointed to her hand, that held a tight grip on her dagger. “A woman sitting here, acting like…” The man hiccupped. “You are worth nothing more than what’s between your legs.” He sapt at her and Bucky saw read, as the glob of spit hit her cheek. She calmly wiped it from her face and turned her body slightly, a soft, dangerous smirk on her face. “Well, then.” Before he could see what had happened, the man screamed out, her silver dagger buried at the knuckle of his finger – she nudged it back and forth with slender fingers, slowly, but surely, severing the finger from the hand. “Touch me again, speak to me again, and I’ll make sure you see nothing more than the darkest pits of the sea.” She stood and threw the finger out through a window, before sheathing her dagger again. She nodded to her crew. “Boys.” And with that, she left.

Bucky had never experienced love. He had experienced several women during his life, but only for a night or an hour, hobbled somewhere in the back of an inn or in the dark corners of the streets, knees bruised and rum running thicker than blood in his veins. But never love. At least not until this moment, when Y/N left the inn with a saunter that rivalled his own and a smirk plastered on her face. Sam chuckled and Bucky shot him a glare. Steve laughed loudly on the other side of him. “Well, captain, seems as though you’ve got yourself in trouble.” Bucky didn’t answer but gathered his belt and pistol, trailing after her into the darkened night. She was wandering away from the docks, headed towards the small cove along the shore – her hair shone in a million diamonds when the moon hit it.

He kept his pace slow and distanced from her, his coat billowing against the wooden planks, he so often had walked. She almost disappeared in the darkness, but the moon shone brightly enough to illuminate the sand under her, and he settled on a large, flat rock near her, still hidden by shadows and the cover of night.

She toed her boots off, and as the wind died down, he heard her sigh contently as the water lapped at her toes.

It wasn’t exactly news to him that he might have feelings that were more than just loyalty to a crewmate towards her. He had noticed it more and more the longer she had stayed on the ship, how he would subconsciously drift towards her, their hands almost touching as they strolled the deck, keeping lookout during storms. She had given him the last orange before they reached St. Mary’s with a shrug and told him that he looked like he needed the comfort. She had rushed to his quarters one night when she had overheard his screams from another nightmare, that seemed to plague him less and less the more she was around. Her entire being called to him in the same, gentle and alluring way as the sea did; she was simply unavoidable, deep as the chasms in the seafloor and as much in uproar as the darkest of storms, but it made him feel at ease. He knew her fire and her spirit just as much as he knew his own.

He was pulled from his thoughts when a soft tune hummed in the very air around him; he blinked a few times, trying to gather his bearings, but the song was enticing and hard to hold from his ears. He almost wanted to walk to the sea and swim.

His eyes flew open and quickly dug through his coat pockets and withdrew two lumps of wax, rolled perfectly to fit his ears – a siren, and Y/n was unprotected and alone. He rushed to stand, putting the wax in his ears, when he saw her; a beautiful woman, her face hovering just above the waterline, eyes trained on Y/n, who simply stood still, looking at the siren in the water. He was almost running, when he felt the hum of her song stop and he stilled himself – Y/n was sitting down just near the edge of the water, her eyes on the siren… And she was smiling.

He slowly removed the wax again, the rush of the world coming back to him, and he heard Y/N’s voice clear as the blinding sun – he would hear that voice through maddening crowds, if he was being truthful.

“You shouldn’t be singing so close to the docks.” Y/n said, and Bucky took another step forward, the sand shifting under his feet. “You shouldn’t be alone.” The siren responded, her voice alluring and dangerous. Y/N laughed. “No, I probably shouldn’t. good thing, I’m not.” She turned to face Bucky, who stopped dead in his tracks. “Well? Coming?” She asked, patting the soft sand next to her. The siren hissed. “Easy, Frey, he’s…” She looked at him again. “He’s trustworthy.” He slowly made his way to her, the siren’s eyes on him, and sat down next to Y/n. A little closer than he normally would. The siren’s eyes glowed reddish and her hair billowed around her face in the soft waves. “Now, you bring news?” Y/N asked her. The siren tore her gaze from Bucky and focused back on Y/N. “I do. The ship known as red Skull’s has been spotted near Tortuga. I cannot say by who…” She glanced at Bucky again. “But I know they’re looking for a certain treasure.” “Amaro Pargo.” Y/n whispered, her eyes alight with the promise of new adventures. “That is thought to be lost, isn’t it?” Bucky asked. The siren tilted her head to the left. “Perhaps. Perhaps it’s only lost to those, who cannot find it.” Bucky restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Sirens were, apparently, full of immeasurable riddles. “Hm.” Y/n hummed. “Can you lead?” She asked the siren earnestly. “Me?” She looked back at Y/N. “Have I not led you to more treasure than you can hold? Helped with more enemies than you could’ve hoped for?” Y/n nodded and Bucky finally understood why Y/N had been such a good navigator, how all ships seemed lost when they found them, their crew dazed. “Frey…” Y/n sighed. “I expect nothing from you, but I am asking, pleading that you help.” The siren sighed and looked to the docks. “I will try.” She nodded once, very strangely, to Bucky. “Man.” It seemed like a goodbye. “Fare thee well.” She nodded in the same strange way to Y/N, and then she was gone with the swell of the water.

They sat in silence for a while, Bucky trying to figure out what had just happened. “She has been… Sort of my companion for years.” She said into the silence. “Huh?” She ran a hand over her hair, tugging at a braid. “She came to my aid when I boarded my first ship. She had seen me board, seen the way the crew looked at me…” She glanced at Bucky. “let’s just say it wasn’t a coincidence that I was the only survivor, when you found me.” Ah. “And she… Helps you navigate?” He asked, intrigue coloring his words. He never knew sirens to have any type of relationship that didn’t end in death and the last breath full of salty water. She shrugged. “Not really. She tells me where there’s trouble. If her voice is left, I veer right. She might be a companion of sorts, but she’s still very dangerous and I’d prefer her not to become too close to you.”

Bucky didn’t outwardly show his emotions, if it wasn’t anger. But now, with those words, he couldn’t help the heat on his cheeks and the way his lips twitched.

“Alright, then.” He stood and offered his hand. She took it and pulled herself to her feet, their chests touching as he looked down at her. “Shall we find a lost treasure with the aid of a siren?”

----------

It had been a hard journey. The sea was unrelenting and with a swaying deck, rain falling in heavy, angry drops, he fought several of Hydra’s crewmen. The clanging of swords hung heavy around the ship, the smell of gunpowder stifled in his lungs, and yet, as he cut another man down, his eyes wandered to the vixen on the lower deck. She was grinning maddeningly, her eyes blazing with fire as she circled two men, that towered at least a head over her. She had blood-spatter on her white shirt, that clung to her chest, nipples pebbling under the cool rain. She lunged and blood flowed from the man’s throat, his crewmate’s mouth wide in shook as the woman danced around him. Bucky lunged and cut the second man down, who had swung his sword too wide to be able to block him, and he saw red when a man neared her back. He jumped on the railing and grabbed a rope – but before he swung, he saw Frey’s eyes peer up at him, a wicked smile on her lips.

“MEN! WAX!!” He shouted through the mask, he wore over his lower part of his face, and all as one swirled and pulled wax from their pockets, ready for whatever carnage Frey was about to bring. They had seen it before – Sam had even hollered that he knew Y/N had been different, when they first saw Frey talk to Y/N with her soft voice. Most of them seemed surprisingly fine with the prospect of a siren trailing their ship. The few that didn’t, happened to simply disappear overnight.

He nearly didn’t have time to get the wax in before the song started, and he swung down from the rope to Y/N’s side, where he stood back-to-back with her, fending off whoever dared near her. He felt the song in his chest and saw the men slowly lower their swords, daze already in their eyes. He grinned wickedly at them, spotting Red Skull hiding in shadows by his own ship; he was steering away, leaving the men he had on the Soldier, behind. All of them wandered around to the rails, leaning over the side. Frey swam gently through the swell of the waves, her eyes a perfect mirror of the color of the sea, now, and heads popped up around her; her song had called the few sirens nearby to her, joining her. Slowly, one by one, the men toppled to their watery grave, being pulled under by beautiful women who turned to hauntingly, beautiful and terrifying creatures as soon as their prey landed in their arms. Bucky watched, mesmerized by the sight of men going under, when he felt a hand on his arm. Y/N. She looked up at him with wide eyes and wiped her thumb across his cheekbone in an intimate gesture unlike anything, she had done before – her thumb came away covered in blood. The other crewmen looked everywhere else, trying their best to ignore whatever happened between their captain and Y/N, all of them still slightly on edge by the sirens that crowded their ships. Y/N looked behind him and nodded once, gesturing for him to remove the wax. He did, the thrumming of the song still embedded in his chest, but he turned to the sea and looked to Frey, who smiled wickedly, sharp teeth catching on her lips. “Thank you.” “Thank me not, pirate.” She disappeared under the water.

All the men drank happily after another victory, their shanties roaring from the brig. Bucky sat in his quarters, fiddling a small dagger and stared out of the open window into the darkness, when a few clatters sounded. He frowned and took a step and found three beautiful shells and a handful of colorful, shiny rocks littering the wooden floor. He glanced out the window, and despite the consuming darkness of the night, he couldn’t avoid seeing the red glow of Frey’s eyes. “Why rocks?” He called. “She likes things shiny.” And with that, her eyes were gone. He collected the strange rocks and shells in his hand with a slight smile on his lips. A soft knock sounded on the door. “Yes?” Y/n stepped inside, holding a bottle in her hand and a needle and string in the other. He rolled his eyes. “It’s superficial.” He said, pointing at the gash on his arm. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last. “Even so.” She handed him the bottle. “I took the last bottle of the rum, we procured in Port Royal.” She grinned. “If the men knew, they’d have my head.” He sat down and chuckled. “No, they wouldn’t. They would fear for your friend of the sea.” She sat down next to him and eyed the cut. “It won’t take long.” She mumbled and slowly began threading the needle, eyes focused on his arm. He couldn’t help but flex it, just a little and was rewarded with a soft whine. She began stitching him, and he didn’t dare move a muscle, but simply took a large swig of the bottle of rum, relishing in the warmth of the spirit. Minutes passed in silence, and he glanced at his table, where the collection of rocks and shells rested. “All done.” She mumbled and wrapped his arm in white linen, before standing up and wiping her hands on her pants. Her shirt was still spattered in blood.

He stood as well, and a swell of the waves around the ship made it tip slightly, which none of them were prepared for; she tumbled into his chest, fingers on his collarbone and his hands flew to her waist, trying to steady her. She found his eyes.

A carnal need overcame him, the very air became hard to breathe in, and he couldn’t stop himself. He kissed her deeply, a small gasp coloring the kiss in beauty, and her hands flew to his neck, wrapping around him to meet his kiss. Their tongues wrestled and he pulled her close to him, fingers moving to swiftly undo the damned laces on her back. She breathed a moan as the corset loosened and finally fell from her body – he grabbed her leg, holding her behind the knee and turned her, laying her on the bed. Their movements were frantic, desperate, and longing, so many months of glanced, near-touches and unsaid words hanging thickly in the air, and she clawed at his shirt, finally pulling it out of his trousers. He groaned as she rolled her hips against him, and he let his tongue dance over hers before he ripped her shirt to shreds. She gasped. “Buck, that was my favorite!” She bemoaned. He chuckled, kissing her neck. “I’ll buy you a brig’s worth of that shirt when we reach shore.”

She grunted and pulled at the lace on his pants, as he did the same to hers, Her chest was heaving and he couldn’t help himself – he lowered his lips to her hardened nipple and sucked it, teeth scraping against it and he was sure the sound, she made, would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life.

She finally managed to undo his pants and quickly pushed her hand inside, moaning as she touched his hard length, wrapping her hand around it. He rutted into her hand and his fingers had a hard time getting the fucking pants off her and she giggled, fully giggled as she lifted her rear up to make it easer for him to move the pants down her legs. The leather of his own pants were straining against his hard cock and her hand, and he quickly released her nipple with a soft pop to sit up straight and push his pants down. She clearly decided to use it to her advantage, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, removed her hand from his member and flipped them.

He grunted at the impact, but quickly swallowed any grievances when he saw her on top of him, straddling his hips. Her lips were swollen and red from the rough kisses and his beard, her chest heaved and tattoos littered her skin, drawing intimate pictures, a story of her. She positioned herself better, and grabbed his length again, lining him up. “Darling, don’t you…” He wanted her to feel good, but she quirked an eyebrow, a clear challenge. “You don’t believe me capable, Captain Barnes?” He had never loved being called a captain as much as he did now. “I believe you more capable than me.” He simply said, cock twitching in her hand. She grinned and lined him up with her dripping folds, sinking slowly down on him.

He might’ve thought the sea was his home, his calling, but at this moment, he knew he had been wrong – she was his home. She was tight and wet, the sounds tumbling from her lips were sinful as she lowered herself on him; he worried about her feeling pain, but her eyes rolled back in her head as she was finally seated on him, and immediately began rolling her hips, riding him with long strokes. he growled and held her hips, steering her and he felt her clench around him, her wetness growing on his lower abdomen, and he rutted up into her, craving more and sped up, not daring to slow down now, not with the way she pulled him deeper, and her moans grew. He fucked her deeply, grabbing at any bare skin he could as he nails dug into his chest. “Please…” She moaned. “Please, deeper…” He would never tell her no. He fucked her deeper and harder, feeling her clench around him and she threw her head back, stilling her hips as she came undone around him. He had felt many women reach their peak under him, but never had it felt as good as it did with her. He craved to see it again, the way she twirled her hips and used him to get more out of it, more of him. She leaned down and kissed him deeply, all teeth and tongue, and he lost control – he flipped them again, swallowing her squeal and began pounding her; her legs wrapped around him, lips warm on his, and he would die happily here, buried in her. She was moaning his name, like a drowning man’s last breath, and he sped up, dragging against her walls, that fluttered against him. “Buck….” She moaned again biting down on his shoulder. He growled and thrusted deeply, his cock twitching. “Fill me.” She whispered, her breath cooling the spot, her teeth had just been on and he damn near lost it. He fucked into her frantically, his arm weaving under her leg and hoisted it, clutching it under her knee, her walls tightening around him and with a roar, he spilled inside of her at the same time as she clamped down, another wave of pleasure running rampant through her body.

They rocked slowly to a still, his cock still twitching inside of her, and he kissed her languidly before slowly pulling out and laying down next to her, wrapping his arm around her. “You made my stitches open.” She mumbled, fingers gently swirling against the new red-splotched linen. He chuckled and let a finger follow a tattoo that ran from her collarbone to her elbow. “Worth it.”

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

When they came out of his quarters the next morning, their hands intertwined, the crewmates all whooped, and Steve yelled the loudest that it was about damn time. Bucky didn’t care, not even about the lewd comments, because Y/N managed to send a dagger flying towards Sam’s hat and pin it to the railing behind him when he shouted something obscene. They stood at the rutter together, the pirate and his queen, and stared into the endless horizon. He saw Frey following the ship just out of the corner of his eye, and he tipped his hat to her.

 TAGLIST:    @acaceta​ @a-skov​ @angelmather1​ @cooldreamlandsandwich​ @doubletriplepowerbomb​ @est1887​ @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @fionnthebandersnacc​ @herroyalbubbliness​ @keiva1000​ @kebabgirl67​  @mis-lil-red​  @one-sweet-gubler​ @pandaxnienke​  @sleutherclaw​ @sofiebstar​ @summersong69​ @spookyboogyuniverse​ @stardusted26​ @thereisa8ella​ @timetraveller4​ @thatonechickhere​ @themanfromu​ @thelastpyle​ @yourlocalhoney​ @wheretheriversrunintothesea​  @avengershoney​ @getthismoose​ @gloriuspurposee​  @the-omni-princess​ @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned​ @xcallmetaniax​  @calstielwinchester​ @janita​ @lover-of-bucky​ @marvel-whor​  @tfandtws​ @youtubersshipper​

[djarinsbeskar]

EXPLORATION ARC: PART 3 - CRASH LANDINGS

A/N: I think I’ve read and re-read this part so many times that I’m not sure I’m fully happy with it anymore. However! I do hope you can all enjoy the latest instalment, with our lovely Din (finally) getting some well earned attention.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 14.4k (I have no self control I’m sorry if it drags on)

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: language, (some) dirty talk, SMUT! - oral (m receiving including deepthroating and gagging), handjobs, fingering, Din being slightly awkward before embracing his dom side

Summary: It’s mighty hard to distract yourself from your mysterious and alluring shipmate, so why bother?

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You could say with some confidence that most times in your life, you had smooth landings.

A small swell in your stomach as a ship glided down into atmosphere. The gentle, paced approach of land or sea, of mountains, forests and cities materializing as you descended. The gradual growth of buildings, speeders and individuals from pinpricks into distinguishable features of the landscape. A smooth landing was like sliding into a warm bath, where you only realized how good the water felt when it was lapping around your ears and soothing away the aches of a bad day; the touch down of a ship letting you bask in being on solid ground once more.

Sometimes, you admit, there were rough landings.

Your heart hammering in the back of your throat while you desperately tried to smother the creeping nervousness with every bump of turbulence or rattle of a ships’ engine. The rapidly approaching planet being anything but a welcome sight; the hollow, raw sensitivity to every noise both inside the ship and out suspending you in time before the worst passed. Rough landings to you, were like rolling down a hill as a child from a grassy knoll, the incline of which – to an adult – was nothing more than a slight slope. Chaotic in the movement as your head became dizzy from spinning, but once laying on your back and laughing breathlessly up at wispy clouds, you realized it wasn’t so very bad after all. The same could be said when a ships mechanical functions and sensors righted themselves through automation or a talented pilots guide to land… not so very bad in hindsight.

And then there were crash landings… rare but staggering in the impression they left.

Moments where you weren’t sure if you were hyperventilating or holding your breath, if up was down and if the ship you flew was evening functioning beyond alloying gravity to pull it mercilessly towards wreckage and death. Total clarity and yet, an inability to focus on any one thing as the rapid descent fogged any ability to see the ground coming hard and fast. The shrill alarms and warning lights ceaselessly reminding you of how fucked you really were. The adrenaline it inspired – having nowhere to go – could make you giddy and exhilarated despite the danger. In your life, the feeling of a crash landing couldn’t be compared to the physical; they were the sinking realization of someone falling out of love with you, of the betrayal from a loyal friend, the abandonment of a lifelong support. They were the serendipity of a chance meeting, the recognition of a hidden talent and the reciprocation of long held feelings. Crash landings were all the times you had ever been blindsided and helpless to prevent them: an embodied vulnerability.

The day you landed on Nevarro was a crash landing in more ways than one.

One being the literal – survived by the seat of your pants – landing that had you questioning Mando’s ethnicity beneath the helmet. Was he from Corellia? Or Maker-forbid, Pamarthe? Because there was simply no way, no way, that he managed to pull off that landing with one engine blown and a fleet of pirates on his tail. But he did, and you were all alive because of it. He guided the Razor Crest like it was an extension of himself, completely in control of every movement and never anything but calm as he did so.

For as long as you had known the Mandalorian, he had owned the fossil that was the Razor Crest, and now you could see why. You wanted to weep and apologise to her for every stray thought you had about how old and outdated she was. You knew a brand new gunship that people paid obscene amounts of credits for wouldn’t have survived the same strain the Razor Crest was just put under.

You had come to think of the two – Mando and the Razor Crest – as mirrors of each other; intimidating, ageless and well able to endure more than a ship – or a human body – was naturally capable of. It endeared you to both of them more than you already were.

The other proverbial crash landing you experienced that day, was the incident that preceded your less than desirable entry onto the Nevarro; the one that stripped away all pretense and ignorance that had strained your relationship with Mando in the weeks prior.

After hastily grabbing the child from his pod and staggering back up the ladder one handed as the ship shook violently to strap you both into the co-pilot chair, you didn’t have the presence of mind to notice the heavy scent still permeating the cockpit, or the slightly uncomfortable feeling of your release drying on your thighs. You couldn’t even begin to wrap your mind around the fact that Mando, that stubborn, stoic, recklessly unattainable man you had spent years patching up over and over again, had gotten you off with just his thigh and a few well placed rolls of his hips.

You were too busy trying not to panic at the prospect of dying or being captured which really, would just be your rotten luck after finally seeing the immovable control the Mandalorian exerted, waver. You were distracted from those thoughts right up to the point where the rough rasp of Mando’s voice as the pirates engaged with the Razor Crest’s commlink made your prior activities glaringly obvious. His voice, still thick and heavy with his unfulfilled released gradually morphed into a cold anger as he shut off the connection when the pirates’ demanded payment for your lives.

Of the things you came to realize about Mando since travelling with him, one of the few that surprised you was his refusal to negotiate with nearly everyone he encountered. It gave the small allowances he made when you treated him – and the many he gave the kid most days – a lot more weight. But you didn’t have time to think about that as he dodged shot after shot.

Your landing on Nevarro was a combination of whiplash, soot and precarious rocking before the Razor Crest skidded to a final, jarring stop a few meters away from the closest ship docked outside the main town entrance. Only when the ship stayed upright instead of bowling over from the momentum did you allow yourself to breathe again, grounding yourself back in the cockpit despite your stomach being left somewhere in space.

The return of your breathing and the realization that you had in fact survived, allowed the reality of what happened before to slam to the forefront of your mind.

You dry humped a Mandalorian. The Mandalorian. Him. Mando.

Like a kitten in heat… the echo of his words had heat instantly returning to your face at the memory. You remained flushed even as you attempted to distract yourself by running an unnecessary mental check on your body for injury. Apart from a small ache growing in your head from the whiplash, you were good as new. Too good if you were being honest, and the reason for that was hardly a mystery.

You ran your eyes over the child, smoothing a hand soothingly over his wrinkled head and along one of his ears to make sure he wasn’t hurt, cooing at him gently as he nuzzled back against your chest with a string of sleepy babble. He was more concerned with being woken up than the manner of your landing apparently,

“I know darling, I’m sorry I woke you,” you muttered against his head, the sheer relief that he was out of danger roiling in your stomach and made you close your eyes as his familiar scent invaded your nose while he settled back down to sleep.

As he settled, the cockpit swelled with a heavy silence, reality catching up with you both now that the distraction of pirates and possible death was gone.

The red warning lights and occasional alarm were flicked off one by one with every resounding click of a button. When you first entered the cockpit earlier that day, you struggled to keep your eyes off him and now, now your eyes focused on anything but the man who had groaned your name so sinfully. Those clicks and snaps of levers and buttons – while quiet – were the only sounds that filled the air, enhancing the silence you sat in.

Mando was tenser than before, his shoulders stiff and movements more forceful than necessary as he geared the ship down. A malicious thought surfaced momentarily that he might be regretting what happened already.

You rolled your eyes at yourself, recognizing the ridiculousness of the notion immediately; you had just spent several heart-stopping minutes being chased and shot at and only landed mere moments ago. Of course he was tense. Stars, your muscles had yet to relax from the anxiety inducing minutes before Mando finally out maneuvered them with an unfazed countenance.

But heightened emotions and the insecurities they could bring with them weren’t uncommon after an orgasm. You merely tried to keep the more ridiculous ones at bay, a benefit of maturity and age you appreciated. It allowed you to have had your fair share of purely physical relationships; one night stands and friends with benefits over the years. It wasn’t in you to get overly attached to a sexual partner after the uncertainty of the war. You were certain Mando would be no different. You appreciated sex for what it was; a release, a coping mechanism or simply just something fun to do.

Mando’s arm reached across the small distance in front of you, one final switch and silence reigned once more. He hesitated as he withdrew his hand, resting it heavily on the dash and his helmet turned marginally to look at you, your eyes instantly lifting to the visor. You cursed the damn shiny thing silently; you had never felt the lack of expressions, or small facial tells that might have given you an indication of how he was feeling more than now. The feeling of his gaze didn’t however stop the pang of arousal reawakening after being doused so suddenly before; it simmered low in your stomach now as he watched you.

Your eyes searched his visor, hopefully conveying – if nothing else – that you didn’t regret anything. A soft quirk to your lips and he released a long breath, hanging his head slightly before pushing back up to his seat. Your smile increased subconsciously; he seemed exasperated, not ashamed and that would have to be good enough for you.

It didn’t take long for the silence to turn more comfortable after that, more familiar as he stood from his seat to make his way past you, cape brushing your arm as he did so. He hesitated at the door, considering something before he left. When he evidently came to a conclusion, he turned back to look down at you, forearm resting above his head on the doorframe as he did so,

“I’ll be gone a few hours. The Guild will be by to pick up the quarries so…” he trailed off and you waited expectantly for what he was trying to tell you, “get some fresh air. We’re leaving as soon as I pick up the next batch of pucks.”

You craned your neck to keep your eyes on him and the sudden déjà vu of looking up at him wasn’t lost on either of you as a sharp exhale left the warrior. You nodded a few times to his suggestion, mulling over anything that was low or might need restocking, mind running a klick a minute before an idea sparked in your mind, making you sit up straighter in excitement,

“Mando? Is there an automated banking center here?”

Your question seemed to throw him because he didn’t answer immediately, mind more pleasantly distracted by your appearance,

“Why?” was his only response in the end.

“I want credits, that’s why,” you rolled your eyes in playful exasperation as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. Why else would you go to a bank?

“The New Republic pay a pension for anyone who served in the Rebellion. It gets fed into an account that can be accessed from most galactic banking centers,” you explained, excited by the possibility of actually having your own credits and being able to contribute rather than living off the credits Mando earned from his bounty hunting.

“Oh,” came the lackluster response, “I don’t know. I’ve never used one before,” he finished simply, dropping his arm from the doorframe and turning to make his way down into the hold without another word.

You deflated a bit in your seat before perking up. No. ‘I don’t know’ wasn’t a negative answer, just an unhelpful one. You chuckled quietly so as not to disturb the child sleeping again you, he was still no better at talking than when you first met him. Perhaps it was simply a case of not being able to teach an old Massiff new tricks. Funnily enough, you didn’t think he needed to. You were adapting well enough to his silence as it was.

You could find out for yourself. You were dying to get off the ship and it was the perfect excuse to explore a new town for the precious few hours you had planet-side, a chance to stretch your legs and get some much needed fresh air. It was also a much better alternative to sitting on the ship and replaying the last few hours in your head, working yourself up over a husky voice and a hard body.

No, that would just drive you mad.

Since he left the cockpit, some of the heat left with him and you were able to lean back and take a long, deep breath. Fuck… but he was still able to get to you without even trying, you admitted yourself as you closed your eyes. You didn’t even have the chance to touch him beyond that momentary glance against the smooth, burning length of him. You never believed in karma before, but you must have done something truly rotten to have been stopped from touching that man.

A warmth filled you at the thought of how good he felt under you; the promise of more taken away before either of you had a moment to think. You felt wrecked from the orgasm he gave you and that hadn’t even required the removal of clothing, let alone his hands or cock.

But he hadn’t finished.

Your brows furrowed at the thought, along with a small swell of guilt in your stomach. You considered yourself to be a generous lover and wouldn’t cheapen the sentiment of wanting him to feel satisfied by thinking you owed it to him. You wanted to make him feel good, knowing the bliss someone else could give you was infinitely better than one’s own hand. You wanted to preen with the knowledge that you could bring this man, this immovable force to his knees in ecstasy.

You wanted to make him feel that good now, not later.

Steeling your nerves, you gracelessly wrestled yourself out of your seatbelt, hindered by the loss of one arm that supported the child. Finally free, you followed the same path the Mandalorian took down the ladder (equally as inelegant but climbing a ladder was awkward with two hands let alone one so you forgave yourself). You hurried over to the child’s over-pram and, once he was tucked in and the pram itself closed, turned to where you had glanced Mando preparing to leave.

He was adjusting something on his vambraces’ control panel, so he hadn’t acknowledged your presence yet, but when he picked up the control that opened the ramp down, you opened your mouth,

“Mando!” you called just before he lowered the ramp onto the lava flats that made up the improvised spaceport on Nevarro.

Your voice stopped him in his tracks, and he turned his head slightly to indicate you had his attention.

Your feet were moving before you knew it, rounding in front of the warrior and removing the push-button control that hung from the wall of the Razor Crest; obviously, a temporary fix that had become a permanent solution. The remote fell easily from his grip when your fingers caressed the back of the hand that held it, your gaze never leaving where you hoped his was behind the visor.

You kept your hand on his as he lowered it down to his side, enjoying the tactile sensation of the buttery leather of his gloved fingers as they netted across your own before you pulled your hand away just far enough to trace along the duraweave at his hip and across the softer, more flexible ribbed armor on his abdomen.

“I—need to check the damage to the ship,” he rasped quietly after the control clattered loudly back against the wall it was attached to, no bite in his words as you stepped into his personal space. As expected, he didn’t move, your eyes searching for any indication of discomfort in his body language and – finding none – drifted down his body appreciatively, a knowing smile dancing across your lips.

“Gotta… collect the payment for---” he trailed off when your fingers returned to where they had been before you had been interrupted in the cockpit. His words petered off on a low exhale and you hummed in approval when you felt he was still half-hard under his flight suit.

“I don’t just take, Mando,” you said quietly so as not to break the little bubble you found yourself in with the Mandalorian. You were almost gentle in your cadence, as if anything louder would spook the intimidating man. Something inside you told you that his acceptance of your touch was no insignificant thing, not to him. You couldn’t pinpoint the reason, whether it was his devotion to his Creed he mentioned or some other personal reasons. Whatever it was, you didn’t take the liberties he afforded you lightly.

You wanted to make him forget his reservations, completely.

Your fingers easily undid the fly at his crotch and fit inside to wrap around the thick girth of his rapidly hardening length. Your stomach flipped at the sheer size of him, making you swallow while Mando braced his forearm on the wall behind you, folding over you slightly from his greater height. The deep sigh he released, a shuddering sound of relief and pleasure spread electricity across you, your body instantly reacting to the guttural sound instinctively. You gave his cock an experimental squeeze as you pulled him out from his flight suit in the hopes of hearing that noise again.

But Maker, your mouth watered when you finally tore your eyes from his helmet to his exposed length.

Rich, tan skin stretched taut across the thick length of his cock as it sat heavy in your grip, a shade darker than the skin you had seen while treating him before. Pearly precum was already beading from the blunt, swollen tip and your thumb automatically swiped through it to spread over the head. You reveled in the low moan you heard in your ear as Mando’s head dropped forward to rest on your shoulder, a shaky inhale making his shoulders shudder.

“It’s okay?” you whispered, needing to be certain. The immediate nod against your shoulder settled the last of your reservations and you gave him a long stroke in return. You wondered briefly if the dryness of your hand was uncomfortable so, releasing his cock briefly, you spat on your palm before wrapping it back around the base and started stroking him steadily.

“Fuck…” his voice was barely above a whisper, his cock heavy and rigid in your fist that barely managed to close around him as you squeezed him firmly.

Stars, he felt divine. All hard ridges covered in velvet skin, a hot pulsing weight in your hand that made you chew on your lip as you imagined the size and weight of him on your tongue or the sweet sting of him stretching your cunt around him. He was bigger than you had had before, and you knew you would probably feel him for days afterwards.

He twitched under your grip, but apart from the occasional shiver and low groan in your ear, he allowed your hand to explore and learn this part of him at your own pace. Your free hand skirted down his side to gently draw his tight balls out too and when you massaged them in your palm, you received a gravelly moan in your ear. It was followed by a heady rasp in that language you still couldn’t place; the sound of it running down your spine pleasantly and making your body react viscerally, your nipples peaked and sensitive against the material of your chest band and wetness soaking your underwear again.

His shoulders sagged as the tension began to bleed from his body, his helmet turning on your shoulder to watch your hand stroking his cock rhythmically.

You were throbbing with renewed arousal from just the feel of velvety steel in your hand and from hearing those low, gravelly sounds you had been thinking about for weeks. Nothing you had fabricated in your mind came close to the reality; deep and rich, they rumbled through his whole body until you could feel their echoes in your own.

Twisting your wrist on an upward stroke, his hips snapped forward and a groan left him. His free hand unexpectedly lifted to grasp the side of your neck, his staunch control wavering. His fingers spread around easily to tangle in the hair at the base of your neck to anchor himself and you had to bite down on your lip hard to keep from moaning at the sound of him panting your name in your ear. Your eyes fluttered closed when he tightened his fingers, holding your head in pace as you increased your pace to match his hips, random twists of your wrist making him curse and groan your name desperately.

“Fuck… kitten, don’t--- fuck, don’t stop,” he panted against the side of your head, the words interspersed with quiet moans as his control continued to bend, his hips thrusting shallowly into your hand as he chased the release that he had been denied earlier. You tightened your grip and it made him practically shake with pleasure. You were only using the weeping precum leaking from his head to smooth your hand along his length but Mando didn’t seem to mind the dry friction that tethered on discomfort. He seemed to like the added sensation that made his cock throb and his mind cloud with a primal desire to fuck.

“You feel so good, Mando…” your own voice was nothing short of a moan itself, heat gathering at your core and reminding you of how empty your pussy was. But you wanted to finish him first, to bring him to the height of pleasure like he deserved before you considered your own release again. The next time you got off, you wanted to feel him completely overwhelm your body with his own, whether that was with his cock or his fingers or hell, even his thigh again. Whatever he would give you.

You massaged his sensitive head at the thought, your cunt clenching. His fingers flexed in your hair, tugging on the strands and pulling a soft gasp from your lips as he lifted his head enough for the cool beskar to press against your forehead. Your eyes flickered frantically across the visor, the strength of his fingers tangling in your hair making your lips part,

“Fuck, you want more already, don’t you?” he growled with a hitch in his labored breathing when your thumb circled the head of his cock again. You didn’t try to hide the way he was making you feel, there was no point with the desire written plainly on your face.

Drunk on the heady, heavy scent of arousal that filled the hold, you nodded desperately to his question and released his balls to run your hand along the perfectly polished beskar on his chest, the warrior shuddering as if he could actually feel you through the armor,

“I want you…” you purred against his helmet before sinking your teeth into your bottom lip when he groaned.

His hand loosened in your hair, fanning up over your cheek and across the edge of your jaw before he cupped it roughly. His thumb swiped across your bottom lip to release it from the hold your teeth had it in. He repeated the motion, slower this time to savor the pillowy softness of the flesh before pressing his thumb into your willing mouth, the fingers he had around your jaw tightening to encourage your mouth to open for him.

You accepted the supple leather eagerly, letting it rest on the flat of your tongue before you closed your lips around it, the stagger in his shallow thrusts and the sharp, distorted exhale through his modulator telling you just how affected he was.

You moaned around his thumb when he pushed it deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth, letting your tongue circle it before sucking on it hard, showing him exactly what you were imagining doing to his cock and eyes still trained on the black shine of his visor. Your mind was filled with the sounds of his raspy groans and the quick drag of your fingers of the soft skin of his cock. You matched the pace of your hand as you sucked on his thumb and when he pressed closer to you, caging you against the wall, you arched against him and keened under his movements.

“You’re fucking filthy, aren’t you?” he muttered breathlessly and slightly awed, as if he had come across something so unexpectedly amazing when he hadn’t even been looking, “you wan---”

He was cut off as his commlink came to life.

“Mando! You ever going to come out? What’s taking so long?” the crackled, disembodied voice sounded from his vambrace, your eyes widening slightly before you deviously picked up the speed with which you stroked him.

Mando hissed, his helmet falling back on his shoulders at the pleasure that set every nerve in his body alight. He pulled his thumb from your mouth but kept his grip on your jaw firm,

“Dangerous game you’re playing, kitten,” he panted, his voice strained as you felt him twitch and grow harder in your grip if it was possible, the thrill of danger you both felt at someone else’s presence turning you both on more than you anticipated.

You ignored his words and watched him from under heavy lashes with a cheeky glint in your eye, “Aren’t you going to answer that?” your question was saccharine sweet, as if you didn’t have your hand wrapped around his thick cock.

Playing Mando at his own game – challenging him – might have been a stupid move, but he had you riding his thigh that very day and now you wanted to even out the playing field. You ached a brow when he didn’t respond, your hand slowing to a stop on his cock even as his fingers dug into your jaw. With a vicious snarl in his own language, you knew you had him beat and started stroking him again as a reward.

“You’ll regret this,” he promised darkly when he released your face to press the connection link on his vambrace currently braced against the wall above your head,

“Looking after the kid, won’t be---” his head snapped down when you sank to your knees now that you were free from his hold, eyes sparking with mischief while you tried to smother the smile that turned your lips up when you looked up at him,

“Don’t you dare,” Mando hissed down at you, even as his head feel forward against his arm when your tongue flicked out to glance across the tip of his cock, a choked moan caught in his throat.

“Dare? Dare what?” Confusion was evident in the booming yet jovial voice on the other end of the link.

“N-nothing Karga. The kid…. The kid is just somewhere he shouldn’t be,” he directed the emphasis down at you as you lapped around his head teasingly, giving him a taste of the soft, wet heat of your tongue and only a taste.

“Ah! Bring him out! I’ve missed the little womprat.”

“Just give me----”

Mando cut the connection off on a loud moan as your lips suddenly engulfed the head of his cock, your own moan at the salty precum on your tongue making you salivate and lap up every drop. Maker, he was big. You circled the head with your tongue a few times and pulled your mouth off him after a few wet suckles so that you could lick a thick strip along the underside, eyes still shining with mischief despite the dark lust clouding them as he shook above you.

Fuck, he was so sensitive. A rush of arousal pooled low in your stomach and you moaned around him when you took him into your mouth again and sucked on the head while stroking the rest of his length. You would have to get used to his size before taking any more of him. But damn, if your eyes weren’t bigger than your belly and you let him sink deeper once, getting about half of him along your tongue before you felt yourself gagging.

“Stars, yes—” he groaned, the tight heat of your mouth making him want to sink his cock as deep as it could go before you pulled off him with a gasp, your saliva making his length glisten.

Neither of you had the time to dawdle; you could feel the coiling tension radiating from him as he dropped his hand to card his fingers through your hair. You could have spent hours kneeling there with his cock in your mouth, happily keeping him on the verge of pleasure, but he needed to go sooner rather than later. Reluctantly, you gave the tip one last lick before using your saliva as lubrication to stroke him quicker when you stood back up, his hand never leaving the back of your head.

“Tease--- fucking tease, always---” the staccato of his speech was dotted with more frequent rumbling moans and when he bit out a curse as your fingers massaged along the thick vein under his cock, he dropped his head back to your shoulder, the space between you reducing to only as much as your hand needed to jerk him off.

“You can get me back later, Mando,” you purred, squeezing the head lightly, “but right now I want you to cum.” Your free hand went back to palming his balls, rolling them between your fingers and you could feel them tightening in your hold. Your cunt clenched needily when the Mandalorian actually whimpered.

He had slipped back into his native language as he muttered darkly in your ear and even if you didn’t understand the words, the rasp and sinful promise in them as his tone became more and more desperate was enough to make another gush of wetness drench your pussy.

You knew it hit him the moment his spine went rigid, and he choked on a gasp, his hand tightening almost painfully in your hair reflexively. You slowed your pace with a whimper, lazily stroking him through his orgasm as several thick ropes of cum splattered against your jacket, the rest coating your hand as it dribbled down his cock.

His breathing returned in short, stagnant gasps, his arm taking most of his weight while his forehead rested heavily on your shoulder as he recovered. He hissed tiredly, pushing your hand away when the overstimulation made his spent cock twitch even as it softened. It gave you the perfect opportunity to lift your hand and delicately swipe your tongue along your finger to taste him. Slightly salty and a bit sharp, you sucked the finger into your mouth with a hum and let your eyes drift closed at the taste.

A long groan pulled your eyes open again to see Mando lifting his head lethargically from your shoulder, tilted down to watch you clean your fingers of his release,

“Don’t waste any, kitten,” he rumbled, his voice rougher than usual and you felt a swell of pride at the fatigue you heard in it. His hand wrapped back around your wrist to lead your other fingers to your mouth, as if to be part of this ritual of you eating his release. You were only too eager to lap each of them clean, eyes heavy-lidded as you sought his invisible gaze. His chest was still heaving from his release, breathing labored and he looked absolutely wrecked.

You moaned your approval at his taste, enjoying his eyes on you as you did so. You spread your fingers and turned them to rest against his chest and he hummed a “good girl” as he fingers released your wrist to trace up along your arm and across your collarbone lazily, curious in their exploration as though he had never thought to take the time to simply touch for the sake of touching. He probably hadn’t, you realized when you thought about it a little deeper.

His fingers roamed up along the column of your neck and settled there, flexing before they relaxed into a content hold that made you lean into the solid weight of his caress,

“Be here when I get back,” he rasped, fingers spreading to spear up through your hair at the base of your neck for a brief moment.

He only released you when you nodded, mesmerized by the lights that caught on his visor and the shine of his unpainted helmet.

And then his hand dropped and the overwhelming heat and presence of his body leaning over yours was gone. A single input into his vambrace and the child’s hover-pram followed him dutifully. You leaned back against the wall to gather your own breath that you seemed to have lost and pressed the forgotten control button to release the ramp for him and when it flattened on the lava fields below, he offered you a nod before wandering down to his… welcome party?

You snorted on a laugh to yourself, turning back into the bowels of the ship to shower and get changed before going out yourself.

That’s a first.

  You wasted no time stripping out of your clothes, flushing slightly at the stains on your jacket and pants from Mando’s release. You showered without washing your hair to save time and pulled on a new pair of pants along with a cream, loose linen top. For warmer climates like Nevarro, you were glad you had picked up the piece despite not wearing it often. You liked the feeling of not having layers of fabric clinging to you, the wispy soft length of the fit caressing rather than constricting and the dip in the neckline was tastefully offset by a string tied across your collarbones that gave it a breath of femininity. You stretched your arms above your head and enjoyed the occasional brush of the material on your back before you grabbed a satchel to make use of the unexpected free time you had been afforded without the child.

You greeted the mechanics setting up by the Razor Crest. Mando had obviously sorted the repairs out, whatever they entailed when he left the ship. Poor old girl was in some state after that landing but her condition wasn’t enough to wipe the content grin off your face as you walked in through the main gates with a small spring in your step. Despite the slight hiccup, today hadn’t gone quite so bad as you thought.

Nevarro was an… interesting place, you came to realize after a short while walking through the ragtag streets and down dusty roads. It boasted the same clientele as most Outer Rim planets, but the place wasn’t nearly big enough or significant enough to garner the attention of anyone more dangerous than a petty thief. The presence of the Bounty Hunters Guild also had a hand in dissuading criminals from setting up on Nevarro. It was charming, in a way. But then, you always were drawn to… unconventional things.

The marketplace – when you arrived – was, in a word, chaotic. There was no clear system of stalls or shops, hardly any signage and people seemed to make do with the most uncharacteristic objects upon which to sell their wares. You had seen no less than four sabacc tables, what looked like the carcass of an old mining trolley and you were nearly certain the Jawas were using stacked stormtrooper helmets beneath a large cloth to make a very wobbly table. You hadn’t managed to confirm that one unfortunately, instead trying to garner what information you could about what each stall and shopfront sold to know where to come back to after doing a leisurely loop of the market.

People bustled here and there, chatter flowed freely, and it felt similar to when the Empire first fell; as though a great weight had been lifted from these people, excited to enjoy the liberties freedom gave them. It was infectious, and you were charmed by it; swindling Jawas and all.

You had been delighted to learn from a helpful human man tinkering with the wiring of a pit droid outside a non-descript repair shop that there was a banking center on Nevarro – a New Republic one at that – recently installed with all the changes happening on the planet.

You threw your silent thanks to the Maker that at least now you had access to your own funds and could stop feeling guilty about living off Mando’s hard earned credits. Noticing the stiffness in the man’s legs when he stood to point you in the right direction, you stalled your journey to the bank to enquire about it.

“Only age, love. Nothin’ to be done about that,” he had waved you off with a dismissive chuckle.

You smiled in return with a brief nod before you took your leave, filing through information in your head about age-related joint stiffness as you did. You simply couldn’t help yourself; you hadn’t had a patient in months and Mando was the worst possible one whenever he was injured so you indulged yourself on your way to the bank with a pain relief plan for someone who had been kind to you. Not just because he reminded you of an elderly Mirialan who complained of similar pains what seemed like a lifetime ago.

The banking center was thankfully, a straight-forward experience. A gatekeeper droid scanned your chain code and then all you had to do was select the service you required. Withdrawing the sum of your accumulated pension that had been deposited but untouched for the last few months left you with a satisfying weight to your satchel as you left and was hardly dented as you went about your errands.

After a few wrong turns and your insistence that no, you didn’t need whatever piece of junk the Jawas were trying to peddle, you managed to replenish the food supplies you felt had either been running low or knew the other two enjoyed along with a few much-needed additions to the medical kit you were building and maintaining. You even went so far as to purchase a few tools you had been without since leaving Mynock, medical and otherwise that would no doubt come in handy eventually. The medical supply store was quite well stocked on Nevarro and given the number of bounty hunters you had seen prowling; it really came as no surprise.

A few tubes of heating liniment added to your satchel along with the other bags you carried, and you returned to the repair shop to hand them to the elderly man there. Your hastily demonstrated number of gentle exercises had him chuckling at you good naturedly and an hour later, you were still chatting over tea and some sort of oat biscuits.

 “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked conspiratorially when you had first sat down gingerly to accept the mug he slid over to you. The question had made you laugh,

“What makes you say that?”

He hummed in contemplation around a bite of his biscuit before pointing what remained of the biscuit at you, “Folk ‘round here are too caught up in their own lives, they don’t be worryin’ about others.”

“It could also be because I’m a medic, no?” you aired your thoughts aloud after a sip of the fragrant tea, a mix of what tasted like ginger and something floral.

“Ah, but you’da charged me if you were workin’ here,” he tapped his nose, a fond wink thrown in for good measure, “go on so, where are you comin’ from then?”

You weren’t able to stop the bubble of laughter that rose, “Pamarthe, for my sins,” you admitted.

“Ah!” he clapped a hand on his knee jovially, “A Pamarthan! Great pilots. Great drinkers!” he chortled, and you snorted into your cup on a laugh, nailed it. You chuckled as you took two biscuits off the table with a small explanation that they were for a child you were looking after. That led you to fielding questions about if the child was yours, but you were able to skirt away from that topic with a well-placed question,

“So, have you ever been to Pamarthe?”

“Me? No, no not with the Empire. Very hard to travel back in those days, very hard. Now, well. I’m not the lad I once was, love. Can’t be off planet hoppin’ anymore at my age. But a few of your people have been known to pass through here, like you.” he explained while you nodded along politely.

“Mores the pity, I can imagine you’d like it. It’s… very different to Nevarro,” you admitted with a glance around the bustling crowds kicking up ash and soot from the extrusive ground underneath. The temperate climate of Pamarthe brought grass and mud, not rock and ash.

“Is it true that all the islands are connected with rope bridges? And not something more modern?”

Your eyes widened pleasantly, the same rush of warmth anyone experienced when faced with the welcome surprise that someone knew about their homeland while not being native themselves,

“You do know your stuff!” a wistful smile broke out on your face at the thought, “and you’re right. It’s just always been that way,” you shrugged, “I’ve never really thought about why some of the old ways were kept; technology is used to prevent erosion of the islands themselves after all.”

“Remarkable, isn’t it? The things we miss that are right under our noses. Simply because that’s the way they’ve always been.” he hummed sagely, and you couldn’t help but agree.

And on your conversation went. It was refreshing, to have a conversation again. You had gotten so used to one-sided chattering on your part to the child and the simple answers from the Mandalorian that didn’t invite any more speaking than necessary.

This was nice, it was a change from the norm. But a part of you started to long for the quiet hum of the ship the longer you stayed away. Perhaps it was down to being unaccustomed to the prolonged sensory overload between the bustling crowds and loud bartering that had you eager to get back, and not just the thought of seeing a roguish warrior who seemed to embody the safety silence could provide. At least, that was what you tried to convince yourself of anyway.

So, bidding your new acquaintance a good evening along with a stern instruction to do his exercises that held no real bite, you left, your pace a little quicker than could be described as casually strolling, “be here when I get back” echoing in your mind and setting flurries of anticipation off in your stomach.

Life still seemed to go on even as the suns in the sky began to age and the shadows they cast on the low buildings and narrow streets shifted. There was still plenty of activity and you casually ruminated on where all these people went when the day was done as you reached the Razor Crest. The Guild had finished unloading the quarries in the time you had been away, and the engine seemed relatively repaired if your untrained eye was anything to go by. Lowering the ramp, you lugged the progressively heavier bags back up into the hold and unpacked them merrily; the outing and the fresh air had done wonders for you a world of good.

With the last of your supplies tucked away under the galley counter, you found yourself with nothing to do. Dismissing the thought of making something to eat after just eating biscuits, you found yourself climbing the ladder to the cockpit instead.

Chewing your lip contemplatively once there, you gingerly sat in the pilot’s chair before you could talk yourself out of it and took in the sweeping view of lava flats as far as the eye could see from this higher vantage point.

Honestly, you chided yourself internally, it’s a chair.

But in the same way you would never sit in your mother’s favorite seat at the table, where the view of the vast ocean framed by towering cliff edges of far off islands was best – even when empty – you still hesitated before you relaxed into the large seat.

Maker, was it always this big? It seemed much narrower when he sat in it… but with space on either side between you and the armrests, you were once again reminded of the size of his presence, unconsciously and perhaps foolishly dwarfed only by your familiarity with seeing him so frequently. You remembered how big he was on your examination table when he had been poisoned. The table had groaned under him and while you had seen taller, you had seen broader, his was the aura that told you he could put every inch of height, every pound of weight to better use than anyone larger or stronger than himself. Heck, even a Houk warlord hadn’t stood a chance against him.  

Your fingers ran along the sturdy leather of the armrests, the dry fabric catching the pads in their exploration and reminding you vaguely of a tookas tongue, an abrasive yet gratifying sensation on your softer skin. Your muscles sagged as you relaxed further, the trepidation of being somewhere you shouldn’t be beginning to melt away and causing your head to rest back.

You enjoyed the tactility more with your eyes closed, the deprivation of sight transforming your awareness of the leather beneath your fingers; the shallow veins of aging cracks along the material, the dips where more pressure was repeatedly placed when the Mandalorian sat here and the small fraying of the stitching at the seams. It became a map under your fingers, with rivers and valleys and mountains and you lost yourself in the idle relaxation it brought to you.

So immersed in your tactile exploration, your ears didn’t pick up on the ramp lowering, nor the presence that paused in the doorway of the cockpit, startled at first before he relaxed against the side of the doorframe, admiring the sight before him where he could leisurely take you in while you were caught unawares.

“Planning on stealing my ship?” his voice came out rougher than either of you anticipated and your eyes immediately snapped open to look over your shoulder from where you sat, lips parted in a surprised ‘o’ and looking very much like you had been caught.

You took him in from your position and, after running your hand along the armrest to find the correct button, swung the chair around to face him. You were quite comfortable where you were and didn’t fancy getting up despite your prior hesitation. One leg crossed delicately across the other, you rested your chin on a propped-up hand with a grin,

“If I wanted to steal your ship, I’d have gotten it months ago,” you teased, the familiar ground you had somewhat lost with him over the last week making a welcome return, “you’d have never even known.” you finished confidently with a wink.

Mando said nothing for a moment, assessing your words and mannerisms, “You think you could steal a bounty hunters ship from right under his nose and not get caught?” he hummed, his disbelief evident in his dismissive tone, “Please.”

“No?” you tapped your fingers along your cheek where they rested, “You seemed pretty out of it after I had your cock in my mouth,” you threw at him casually, tone light as if you were merely discussing what you wanted for dinner, smirking at the surprised choke it pulled from him, “probably be pretty easy for me then, wouldn’t you say?”

His body stiffened as he collected himself at the abruptness of your words, fingers flexing on his arms where he had them crossed across his chest and head shifting to look away from you before his visor refocused itself on where you sat,

“I don’t think you were much better, kitten,” his husky voice was deeper than it had been, thicker.

Your stomach fluttered at that stupid fucking nickname, the rolling rasp of it on his tongue only enhanced by the natural lilt of his accent. Your flare of temper gave him the time to push off the wall and saunter over in that arrogant way you hated as much as loved and pressed a hand to the back of the seat by your head,

“I think sucking my cock got you wetter than riding my thigh, didn’t it?” he rumbled, as though his question was merely a token gesture, used to amplify the truth in the statement that came before it, “I don’t think you’d be able to do anything, let alone steal my ship.”

It was your turn to be flustered now, dammit. You had the high ground for all of two minutes before he effortlessly flipped the control. Your body thrummed with how close his was but not one part of him even brushed against you; not the coarse fabric on his arm where it was braced on the seat, not the solid beskar on his legs against yours, nor his helmet against your forehead as he leaned over you. Touch was not a language Mando knew well beyond violence, but he was well aware of how to use his body to intimidate… to dominate… to captivate.

Your eyes stayed on his visor, focusing your attention on breathing normally and to not let the effect he had on your body show. You could feel the heat of his gaze running down your face, over the exposed skin at your collarbones and down the light material of your shirt. The appreciative grunt slipping through his modulator had your thighs clenching together instinctively as the craving you had been distracting yourself from all day reignited with a soft gasp when gloved fingers traced over the bend of your knee that sat crossed over your leg.

“Take these off,” he muttered, patting your thigh once as his fingers traced up from your knee, running them along the outer seam of your pants before pulling his hand away as though it had never touched you and rested it on his belt expectantly as he looked down at you, “I want to see how wet sucking my cock makes you.”

His crass words, so unlike his usual stoic statements were characteristically blunt but filled with a vulgarity that simultaneously shocked you and turned you on. For such sinful words to fall from the mouth of a man who kept his thoughts and emotions in a chokehold, there was a thrilling sense of depravity that exceeded the fact that you had gotten each other off already today.

You leaned back languidly against the pilot’s chair, watching him leisurely as he stood over you and made no attempt to hide the way your eyes trailed down his body. You rode his thigh and sucked his cock already; was there really any point in trying to hide your attraction to him anymore? Life was too fucking short.

“Are you asking me to go down on you again, Mando?” you purred, loving the virility in his tone; there was nothing you loved more than an insatiable lover, it boded well for him being able to keep up with you.

“I’m telling you that if you don’t remove them now, you won’t be allowed to.”

There was a barely restrained thread of anger surfacing in his voice, possibly the residual effects of making him answer the commlink from his contact in the Guild while you had your hands and mouth on his cock, but instead of the spark of fear your instinct would usually alert you with, a trickle of desire kissed your senses instead.

“An interesting punishment,” you hummed, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants, “given that you’d be missing out as well.” Even as you said it, you were uncrossing your legs. He pushed back a pace or two from where he loomed over you to give you room or to get a better view, you didn’t know. Lifting your hips from the seat, you shimmied the form fitting material over your ass and down your legs, kicking the material off one foot before the other, panties staying on.

His helmet snapped up from the smooth skin of your legs to your face and, in a move that had a sense of déjà vu settling over you both, you reclined back comfortably against the chair again, your eyes dancing with the same challenge he had thrown to you on Klatooine.

The pants can come off, but the underwear stays on.

For now, you told yourself, but he didn’t need to know that right away.

The warning growl he emitted was the sweetest response you could have wished for. Revenge after all, was better served ice cold.

Your move. Your eyes dared him with a glimmer of amusement and a quirk of your brow even as a knot of anticipation began to curl in your stomach.

He surprised you by sitting in the co-pilots chair you usually occupied after a tense few seconds, leaning back into the leather, relaxed.

You frowned, breaking the nonchalant façade you tried to deceive him with as your mind scrabbled to figure out what he was planning. You hadn’t anticipated him sitting away from you and simply watching you. You were about to question him when your lips parted as the hand resting on his thigh lifted to palm himself through his flight suit slowly.

Your teeth dented your bottom lip, shifting yourself in the seat while your eyes immediately focused on the way his hand flexed and curled around the prominent bulge and your fingers itched at the memory of his cock filling your hand.

His game, obviously, was to drive you bantha-shit insane, because the moment he unzipped his fly to pull himself from the tight confines of the flight suit, already hard and leaking, you wanted him.

You’ll regret this…

The growl reverberated in your mind from hours before. He was using the very thing you had used against him, on you. Your eyes glazed over as they followed the steady path of the Mandalorians fist as he stroked himself, small grunts the only sounds he seemed willing to let you hear.

You swallowed, heat rose to your cheeks and your skin becoming uncomfortably hot. It made you increasingly aware of your own arousal as you remembered the weight of his cock in your hand, the pulsing length of him on your tongue… your tongue peaked out to taste your bottom lip, all traces of his earlier release unfortunately gone.

Your eyes darkened when a quiet groan was picked up by the modulator, his head dipping with a ragged breath as his thumb swiped over the swollen head. You had to stifle a moan of your own when you recognized that the movement of his hand was mimicking yours, twisting momentarily on the upward stroke and squeezing as it came back down to the base.

Your idle fingers itched to touch yourself and one hand began subconsciously moving between your thighs as they spread enough give you space. But the Mandalorians sharp eyes – even clouded with lust – didn’t miss a thing as his head rolled around to look at you,

“Hands by your sides, kitten.”

His voice was dangerously low, thick with lust as he slowed his strokes to a lazier pace, prolonging his desire and by default, prolonging your inability to touch yourself. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke, and it made you huff indignantly, but you fisted your hands on the leather beside your bare hips nonetheless. The ease with which he gave commands, the casual control he exuded, it sent tremors of need through you, a baser side of you eager to obey even if it conflicted with your stubborn nature.

“Good girl,” he rasped with an unmistakable tease lilting his voice when you settled, “keep behaving and I’ll let you taste it.”

You hated to admit it, but the promise of having him in your mouth again was almost worth the silent torture you were being made endure now, cunt throbbing in neglect and skin humming with sensitivity. You had always been able to succeed with a mind over matter approach, with the constant knowledge that the reward was worth the work it took to achieve it but Maker, was he making it difficult.

The minutes he sat away from you felt like hours despite your resolve and the temptation to touch yourself only grew as the air grew thick with tension. Your eyes drank their fill of the warrior getting himself off mere feet away from where you sat half-naked. The sound of his hand stroking himself and those breathy exhales were going to drive you mad.

Your panties felt uncomfortable against your sensitive skin and you cursed your stubbornness in keeping them on, shifting in your seat and making yourself whine quietly when they brushed against your clit, drawing Mando’s helmet down to look at you once more,

“Take them off,” he repeated breathlessly, and you wanted to weep in thanks, eagerly lifting your hips to push the offending piece of clothing down your legs. You didn’t have time for shyness or modesty when the cool air on your bare cunt was soothing for all of five seconds before the throbbing heat made you ache with a renewed need to touch your clit, to somehow relieve the pressure. The approving groan that rumbled from the Mandalorian was a stroke to your ego as you spread your legs for him, revealing your damp folds to him and tempting him to break the rules of his own game.

“Maker, I can see how wet you are from here,” he moaned and picked up the pace of his stroking momentarily, caught up in the vision you presented him with, half naked in his pilot’s chair; you were a veritable galactic pin up girl.

You made a small noise of impatience, your darkened eyes pleading with him as your body burned under his unseen gaze.

“Tell me what you want,” he grunted, squeezing the base of his cock to slow himself down from simply getting himself off as quickly as possible as he would normally.

“Your cock,” you answered shamelessly before tagging a quiet “please?” to the end which seemed to break him just like you hoped it would.

He stood not a moment later and made the few steps to stand beside you and you wasted no time in greedily wrapping your fingers around the thick base of his cock. You turned your head so your lips could instantly wrap around the head of his cock again, beyond teasing him and addicted from the brief taste you had of it earlier in the day and making you moan around him in both pleasure and relief.

The vibrations made Mando hiss as they ran through him before his head tipped back on a moan when you relaxed your jaw to take a bit more of his length into your waiting mouth, tongue massaging as much of the underside as it could reach. You began a steady rhythm moving up and down his cock, your muscles relaxing to let him move easier along your tongue.

Your hand stroked what you couldn’t take into your mouth, using your saliva to glide your hand down to his base with a firm squeeze. You knew it would take a little time to get familiar with taking him in fully, so you enjoyed each drag of his length over your tongue and lips, along with the occasional teasing scrape of your teeth that had his breath hitching.

He gripped the headrest behind you when you pulled off him to latch your lips wetly along the length, licking and kissing your way to the base nestled among dark, trimmed hair, your hand massaging the head as you did so. The sight made you hum and lick a long strip back up the underside to suckle on the head once more. You had deduced he was probably dark haired given the beautiful tan of his skin, but having it confirmed made your stomach clench giddily.

Your eyes lifted back to Mando’s helmet when he cupped your jaw, pressing his thumb slightly against your cheek for you to open your mouth so his cock could settle back on your tongue. You moaned, taking his none too subtle hint and started sucking him off again in earnest, your saliva and his precum leaving his cock messy and wet and the sounds it made as you sank your head down on it were profane and loud in the otherwise silent cockpit.

You keened when you felt a gloved hand trace down your front, ghosting under the swell of your breast before giving it a tentative squeeze that had you whimpering around him and relaxing your throat to ease more of him into your mouth. He grunted and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts above the thin linen shirt at the perfect heat of your mouth, learning you as you were him.

You dug your nails into the backs of his thigh to stop yourself from gagging when his tip pushed against the back of your throat, the sudden sensation making him jerk his hips forward with a gasp of your name and a hard squeeze to your breast while tears formed in your eyes. The slight burn was delicious, and the sounds he made as you took as much of his cock into your mouth as possible were even more so.

“Fuck yes…” he groaned, your mouth molten around his cock while he rocked against you shallowly, his gaze roaming your entire body and when it fell on the thin ring of ink surrounding your left thigh, his cock twitched in your mouth and caused you to pull back enough to swirl your tongue around the sensitive head before sinking back down on him to take in as much as you could.

The sound of him choking on a moan encouraged you to hollow your cheeks and swallow around him, your eyes glittering up at him with a mix of tears and teasing when he jerked his hips forward again, pushing his length that bit deeper.

“Such a… fucking filthy thing---” he moaned, releasing your breast to tangle his hand in your hair to slow your movements as you withdrew your head eagerly and sank back down on it, “but so… so fucking thorough in your examinations.”

You pulled off him, a breathless laugh leaving your mouth even as trails of saliva kept you connected to his cock and messed up your mouth and chin. You pumped him with your hand while you rested the head against your cheek,

“What did you call it again? Coercive medical attention?” your voice was hoarse, but it dripped with a lovely mix of amusement and desire.

“So long as it ends with my cock in this perfect fucking mouth, I’ll accept medical attention of any kind,” he bit out, the slight tremble in his voice when you gave him a long hard stroke was endearing in a way you hadn’t anticipated the warrior being.

“I’ll believe that when Mustafar freezes over,” you chuckled, giving his cock a squeeze for good measure before taking him back into your mouth.

“Maybe we’ll go there then---” he cursed when you let him hit the back of your throat again, “be—be the only way to shut you---” he never did get to finish that sentence, his head falling back on his shoulders with a sound that got caught in his throat when you took the remaining few inches into your mouth valiantly and swallowed hard around him, breathing deeply through your nose.

Feeling yourself start to gag, you pulled off his cock halfway, gasping around him before starting to lazily bob your head in order to get your breath back and do it again. His hand tightened in your hair but allowed you to move at your own pace. Your attention was pulled back up to him when he leaned over you slightly, a slap to your inner thigh making you moan and spread them for him eagerly.

“Fuck…” he groaned, and you felt the soft leather of a finger swipe through your folds, making you whimper. He growled something you couldn’t quite pick up with your blood pounding in your ears from that single jolt of pleasure he gave you but when you felt him again, it wasn’t the cool leather of his gloves, but the warm skin of his fingers instead.

The realization made you jump on contact with a mewl as he spread your wetness along your dripping cunt. You knew what he would find there without him having to say a word. Slick, swollen and burning with need as you keened, your sounds were muffled by his cock filling your mouth. You struggled to keep the lazy pace of bobbing up and down on his length when you forgot how to breathe from the slight calloused tips of two of his fingers spreading your slick lips and pulling a vicious growl from the Mandalorian.

“All this from sucking my cock?” his voice was labored, control razor thin as he struggled not to merely grip your head and fuck your mouth to chase the release dangling before him. It seemed every part of you was hot and wet and soft as his fingers spread through your folds and his cock buried in your mouth. Your bright, wide eyes, glassy with lust looking up at him made that struggle even harder as his hips rolled involuntarily, your cheeks hollowing and wet tongue massaging under the prominent vein pulsing on the underside of his cock.

You were addicted to the way he sounded, the ever-present discipline he exuded daily was being pulled taut as more primal urges overtook him. It was an intoxicating reminder of his humanity, of the man under the armor and the mere thought of his possible expressions beyond an impassive helmet as curses and moans and filth fell from his lips, had a wave of wetness slowly pulsing from your neglected pussy.

“Oh fuck--- fuck what, what was that--” he rasped, his fingers diving into the arousal that dripped down your open thighs and over your cheeks to the seat underneath you, making a mess. The sudden gush seemed to short circuit something in Mando, his mind struggling to focus on anything but the soaked cunt under his fingers.

When the pads of his fingers brushed over your aching clit, you cried around him, squeezing the base of his cock, and making him hiss your name; a surprised hitch that had him nearly doubled over you in pleasure. The next brush of his fingers was not as surprising, but no less intense before he began a stead rhythm of circling your clit, dipping his fingers down into your sopping folds before dragging that wetness back to soothe over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You tried to mumble something, your head foggy with the need to cum from being filled with something other than your own fingers, but his cock garbled your words, the two of you slipping into that tangled, desperate side of lust. You couldn’t bring yourself to take him out though, lamenting the loss even for a moment as you greedily tried to take more of him again, the choked gasp above the only reward you needed when your nose brushed the coarse hair at his base. It had to be a sin, to feel this good from giving someone else pleasure. Maker, you could get off just by sucking this man’s cock for hours and be satisfied.

Mando however, didn’t seem to share that sentiment and when he suddenly pushed a finger into your tight cunt, your eyes rolled closed as you both moaned in unison. Your walls fluttered and clenched around the thick, foreign digit and you felt your orgasm cresting at your sensitivity before it abated somewhat when his finger settled knuckle deep inside you.

“Stars, so tight for me, kitten--- tight and wet and fuck,” he spat as you clenched around him again at how wrecked he sounded, giving his cock a particularly hard pull into your mouth while you whimpered around him, “can just imagine, shit, imagine how tight you’ll be around my cock.” His words were almost slurring in their delirium and you knew that if you tried to speak, you wouldn’t sound much better. Especially not when he added a second finger into your pussy and started pumping them achingly slow and more controlled than he sounded.

“So big, you- your fingers--- more,” you whined after pulling his cock from your mouth to suck in a breath, the task suddenly becoming manual as you struggled to remember what came first, inhale or exhale? “I want more, always more,” you were babbling against his cock now, begging words interspersed with wet licks and kisses to the length as if you could convince him with affection to give you what you wanted.

“That’s it kitten, fuck, t-tell me what you want—” Mando was panting now, the quick jerks of your wrist along his cock, slippery from your drool and saliva making his own breathing an unbearable task as his fingers pumped inside you harder, the wet sounds filling the cockpit both mortifying and evocative, “such a greedy, hungry, smart-mouth medic I—shit.”

He almost sounded angry, the tempestuous rumble rolling from his voice like thunder, but paired with one hand roughly thrusting a third finger into you and the other carding his fingers reverently through your messy locks, you knew he was as unhinged as you were with the intensity of the pleasure you were somehow able to give each other. As if the tension that had been steadily growing from that first fateful night on Klatooine was suddenly boiling over, spilling, and hissing as it stoked the flames beneath; a closed circuit that could no longer be stopped or broken.

When his thumb began working tight, practiced circles around your clit as his fingers fucked you into the chair, you knew you wouldn’t last long. The looming pressure that had been building the moment he asked if you planned on stealing the Razor Crest was coming at you faster than a TIE fighter,

“Gonna cum, Mando--- Mando, feel so good, please---” you whimpered, grinding your hips down on his hand desperately as your orgasm drew near.

He slowed his fingers despite your protestations, and he gentled your frustration with a well-placed curl of his fingers inside you, “Shh, shh—fuck, not yet---” he started and you whined as you sucked the head of his cock back into your mouth ardently, as if somehow, that would change his mind, a mixture of saliva and precum drooling down the sides of your mouth as you messily lapped at him, “fuck… kitten--- wait.”

He pulled himself from your mouth and his fingers from your cunt, chuckling breathlessly at your frown as you glared up at him, “wait…” he purred, the sound running down your spine and across your overheated skin while he hooked one hand under your knee to drape your leg over the armrest, giving him a better view and greater access to your soaked pussy.

You shivered as he gathered some of your arousal to coat his fingers before your jaw slackened when he spread your juices along his cock – the shudder down his spine evidence of just how effected he was – until it glistened with a combination of your saliva and arousal. The visceral image of your arousal coating his cock had any last shred of control or shame disappearing, impatience taking its place.

 It was filthy, and your mouth watered at the sight of him. You dragged your eyes up to his visor slowly, eyes dark and cheeks flushed, lips parted and chin messy from your ministrations. The resounding growl he released had your cunt quivering, missing his fingers and it pulled an impatient whine from your lips as your nails raked down his covered hip.

“Mando…” you began, eyes dropping back to his cock with a silent plea.

He led his cock back into your waiting mouth, running the head along your plump bottom lip and smearing the mess already at your mouth and chin before pressing it back against your waiting tongue. His fingers immediately returned to push into you and began fucking you in earnest. The tangy taste of your own arousal mixing with his made you moan around him and your eyes flutter shut, your hips grinding down on his hand immediately once he found a rough, fast pace to bring you over the edge. You greedily engulfed the length of him, your hand stroking along the base as you hummed when you felt him get impossibly harder on your tongue.

His fingers curled against that small patch inside of you and made your hips jerk up to his rough chuckle, “there we go, good girl---” he panted, his thumb once again returning to your clit which had you practically sobbing around him with the need for release. You had orgasmed only earlier today and yet, it felt like you had been edged for weeks, months even. You were so desperate to come apart that when it did hit you, you were blindsided.

“Fuck, fuck! That’s it, kitten---” Mando pumped his fingers through your quivering walls, slower as they clamped down around him, trying to keep him inside while your cries bounced off the steel surrounding you in the cockpit and soaking his hand in your release. It kept going, for several long seconds and you were certain your brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen with how you were unable to take in a full breath and all you had to ground you, was your hand working over the solid thick length in front of you.

“So good, it’s so good---” you heard yourself babble, moaning his name like a prayer as you latched your lips to his length to drag open-mouth kisses to the shaft, hips still rocking against his hand as the last convulses ran through you, “want your cum, Mando- “

He didn’t respond, his fingers running sloppily over your clit once more as you whined with the overstimulation and tried to pull away despite being trapped against the seat,

“Another. Give me another,” he groaned, his fingers leaving no room for negotiation as they began a renewed onslaught on your sensitive nerves, already raw and frayed from coming so hard already. You shook your head even as you lapped at his head, eyes teary and unfocused as you looked up at him, “I can’t, it’s too much—”

“’More’ you said…” he released your hair to grip under your chin, pulling your head up to be pressed against his helmet, “I’m gonna… shit, I’m gonna give you as much as you need.”

His voice was strained, and you could hear it wavering the closer he got to his own release. But even in your foggy mind, you could feel the steel determination rolling off him. He wasn’t going to cum until you did. The thought alone made you whimper and despite your earlier declaration, a fresh wave of arousal pooled around his fingers as he pressed them back into you.

“Do it…” you heard yourself whisper, lowering your head enough to nuzzle the head of his cock against your cheek while he still held your jaw and you hoped you were meeting his eyes behind the helmet, “give me everything, e-everything I’ve been missing.”

His answering growl and the press of his thumb into your mouth for you to bite down on was all you could remember clearly before he built up a brutal pace once more. Your head fell back against the seat once he released you at the overwhelming friction on your swollen cunt, but Mando wasted no time in guiding your head back to his cock and with a whimper, you took him back into your mouth easily, his tip brushing the back of your throat now without hesitation as you swallowed.

His fingers stuttered while he groaned before regaining their rhythm and curling up against that spot inside you, a flick of his thumb against your clit sending flames scorching over your skin again as your release approached embarrassingly quick,

“Better than I ever imagined… this mouth—” he moaned, “you’re so wet and fuck… I bet you taste—” he was cut off on a long moan as you let him sink down your throat, breathing heavily through your nose before pulling back and repeating the action, your hands reaching into his flight suit to fondle his heavy balls once more.

You were equally determined to make him cum, a small taste earlier hadn’t been enough to satiate your craving and with a second orgasm about to overtake you, you were ravenous with the need to have him cum down your throat before you were struck dumb with the pleasure his hands would give you.

His breathless chuckle, such a foreign sound to come from him, made you want to smile had you not been preoccupied, “trying to beat me, kitten?” he asked, slowing the thrusts of his fingers so they were longer and harder, the change in pace heating you up beyond boiling point and you gave his balls a gentle squeeze in retaliation.

He was breathing hard, trying to limit his hips from thrusting into your warm mouth but even you could tell the shallow thrusts highlighted how close he was. But given his stubbornness, he doubled down on his efforts and with a final hard press on your clit and a perfect curl to his fingers your release crashed over you, less intense than the first but more surprising as it washed over you and kept you quivering and shaking under him, trying to ride it out with a silent cry. He pulled you through it once again with lazy strokes of his fingers, but they were messy, sloppy as he finally allowed his head to drop back on his shoulders, the tight leash he had on his control finally snapping,

“Yes, fuck— you want my cum, kitten?” he snarled when you nodded around his cock, eagerly pumping him and the change in his breathing told you he was nearly there.

He braced the hand that had been inside you to the back of the chair while the other tangled in your hair to keep you in place, his hips movements uneven and erratic before he stilled, your mouth opening for his cock to rest on your tongue while you pumped him.

He growled your name when his cock pulsed, a rope of cum hitting your cheek before you closed your lips around the head for him to continue coming in your mouth, the thick fluid coating your tongue and making you moan at the taste of him before you swallowed it down. You sank your lips slowly down the length of him, coating him with any residual cum in your mouth while you languidly basked in both your orgasms with a fond lick to his tip.

His shoulders lifted and fell in great rolls as he struggled to catch his breath, the heat in his invisible gaze not lost on you as you held his cock up to lick it clean languidly, reveling in every twitch you could feel in his muscles as a result.

“Maker…” he whispered into the cockpit, now filled only with your combined breathing. He hadn’t stopped stroking your hair as you cleaned his cock up, and the gentle act belied the gruff exterior he presented. It wasn’t lost on you, even if it might have been unconsciously done on his part in his post-orgasmic haze. Your leg dropped from the armrest to fold closed, and you hummed at the pleasant ache you felt once they were together despite the stickiness of your release drying on your thighs.

Once your tongue had become too much for him, he pulled back from you slightly, just enough to push himself back into his flight suit and with a fleetingly soft caress to the side of your head, he dropped back down in the co-pilot seat where he had first begun. You swiped the warm cum from your face and licked your thumb clean while you both basked in the afterglow.

His helmet tipped back against the headrest but kept it turned towards you, his chest rising and falling in large swells. You probably should have grabbed your underwear to cover up, but you were still basking in the euphoria of two breath-taking orgasms that the most you could do was stretch an arm over your head with a soft moan to release any remaining tension in your muscles, your eyes blinking tiredly at Mando all the while.

“Keep that up, and I’ll fuck you right now,” he rasped; his voice lower from how much he had used it in the last while. He didn’t speak often, but you were tickled to find out how vocal he could be when aroused.

You hummed at the thought, relaxing your arms back by your sides as an amused laugh left you, “A tempting offer, but I think my bones have been liquified.” Your words inspired another unencumbered laugh from you, still high from your orgasm and his posture adjusted slightly as if proud of putting you in this state, “I wouldn’t be much use.”

“Until next time then,”

He sat up, the smooth words making you smile tiredly at the familiar phrase. He ran his bare hand behind his neck, a lethargic groan leaving him as he tried to wake himself up from a stupor and your eyes followed the movement. The flash of tan skin made you chew your lip on a smile, knowing exactly where those fingers had been not a few minutes earlier.

You finally pushed yourself to sit up properly, toeing your underwear closer to you so you could bend and shimmy them up your legs, feeling his eyes follow the movement silently. You decided against your pants, the length of your shirt covering your modesty somewhat and you released a long, satisfied breath before turning your gaze to inky darkness that had engulfed Nevarro while you were occupied.

“Did you finish up with your Guild contact?” you posed, and he nodded once,

“Five more pucks,” he explained simply, standing from the co-pilots seat, and you wrinkled your nose, you guys would be travelling for a while, so it seemed.

“Is the kid still asleep?” you hummed tiredly, “I have biscuits for him.”

“Still knocked out from earlier. We had come back to leave when---” he trailed off to your laughter, standing up once you felt your legs wouldn’t give out from under you and turned the pilot seat back to face the viewport,

“Are you saying I made us late, Mando?” you threw over your shoulder, startled when you found him standing directly behind you, his hand falling heavily to your hips and his chest against your back while he hummed in agreement,

“Exactly. You’re as troublesome as the kid,” he murmured against your temple with a squeeze to your thinly covered flesh while you rolled your eyes at him, no heat in the action as you were more pleasantly preoccupied with the comfortable weight of his hands and the warmth that flowed from them into your body.

“Please. Go on then, get us up in the air since we’re so far behind schedule.” You pressed back against him cheekily before his head leaned back to look down at you as he pondered something for a few moments,

“You do it,” he replied simply.

You blinked, he had never asked you to fly before, excluding the time he came back injured on Scipio, and even then, he hadn’t asked. You had taken it upon yourself to do. You couldn’t help but feel that this was a tentative move on his part, a small gesture of confidence he had in you that you didn’t want to refuse.

“I’ll… check on the kid,” he continued with one last caress to your side before he released you and disappeared out of the cockpit, leaving you floundering.

Orgasms put Mando in a much better mood, you determined with a chuckle, taking a seat again and beginning the routine procedures to take you up and off the planet, running your hands back over the dry leather of the armrests fondly.

Crash landing or not, today had been a pretty good day.

 Stitches Taglist:

@geannad​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @gracie7209​ @pychedelic-star @nova646​ @theflightytemptressadventure​ @wantingtobekorra​ @computeringturtle​ @slayerette26​ @kesskirata​ @greatcircle79​ @boxdyeblonde​ @fangirl-316​ @niiight-dreamerrrr​ @tanzthompson​ @theamuz​ @the-scandalorian​ @gallowsjoker​ @helmet-comes-off​

[ltwilliammowett]

Yo ho and a bottle of rum - alcohol aboard Ships

Who doesn't know John Long Silver's song from Treasure Island in which the refrain is: Drink and the devil had done for the rest. Well, if you consider the foul water, wetness and cold, maybe even the numbing of pain and many other circumstances, you can understand the importance of alcohol on board. Naval Surgeon William Warner once wrote in his diary after Sailor John McLean died after excessive drinking on board HMS Ville de Paris, "I am quite sure that drunkenness kills more men than the sword in the Navy today.”

A Jollification on board the Paranga, by Robert Cruikshank 1825 (x)

In Northern Europe, beer was the first drink of choice on board ships and has been since the Middle Ages. From 1733 onwards, a sailor could drink a good three litres of the so-called "thin beer" per day. The reason for this was that the water first had to clean itself before it was drinkable again, so beer was used. And so that it didn't run out, it was even brewed on board, as the apothecary Johann Rudolf Glauber described as early as the 17th century. "Malt grain and boil down the best juice from it very slowly to a honey-thickness" This juice could then be taken along in barrels and infused with hopped water, and already one had brewed one's own house brand. From 1853 onwards, there were even so-called grain stones with beer wort that could be dissolved with water to produce a beer in no time at all.

The French and the Spanish were more into wine, and they consumend considerable amounts of it every day. Up to a litre could be consumed. Thanks to a document, it became known what the Spanish Armada had on board in 1588, which was a considerable 82,000 litres of wine and only 57,000 litres of water. In addition to these everyday drinks, there were also the harder drinks, such as rum, gin, arak and brandy, which were also dispensed up to one litre. If we look at these considerable amounts of alcohol, half the crew must have been drunk all the time, especially since beer or wine was served at breakfast. It was not until 1823 that tea or cocoa was served to the British and coffee to the French.

John Downie, aged 26, Marine; disease or hurt, headache, but suspected of affecting illness to avoid punishment for drunkenness. Downie performs animal impressions in exchange for grog. Taken ill 15 November at Cove, discharged to duty 25 November.

Entry reads: "This is a coltish drunken fellow of such a ghastly wretched appearance in general that it is a difficult matter to ascertain at anytime whether he is in health or otherwise especially if it is convenient for him to affect indisposition - which is very often the case. He has been bred a butcher and from the facilities of his early years he has acquired habits which are in some degree rare - he can imitate with the greatest possible exactness the howling of a pack of hounds, the crowing of a cock, the bellowing of a bull, cow or calf and a number of other animals. On account of these curious qualifications he is often solicited by his shipmates to give a specimen of his talents and a glass of grog is of course the reward. I presume he has been drunk in consequence of something of this kind and has affected sickness to avoid punishment. He says his head aches - I have given him an emetic and will stop his grog till he is better." written by Surgeon Thomas Simpson aboard HMS Arethusa 1805-1806 (x)

The consequences of this constant alcohol consumption posed a huge problem and were reported by the British Surgeons as dilirium, which was responsible for about 5% of the deaths on board. This dilirium often led to accidents, falls, suicides and constant fisticuffs and harsh punishments from the officers. To deal with this, the Surgeons would try to control the drunkenness with alcohol-based opium tinctures, and if this did not help, the person would be treated with even harder alcohol, enemas and bloodletting, and if even this did not help, they would be transferred to a Naval hospital where they would sober up severely.

In 1740, Admiral Vernon tried something else, grog. This at least diluted the rum, but was no less dangerous. And yet this drink remained a daily beverage in the Navy until 1970.

The Surgeons, on the other hand, had often simply given up on the men's excessive consumption of alcohol and were often just fighting the symptoms.

[kmomof4]

Seconded all of the above!!! And adding a few more of my favorites that I can remember…

@jrob64 @mie779 @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @hookedonapirate @ohmightydevviepuu @motherkatereloyshipper @artistic-writer @thesschesthair @wordsmith-storyweaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @darkcolinodonorgasm @sotangledupinit @caught-in-the-filter @beckettj @shireness-says @demisexualemmaswan

As the year is coming to a close,

I want to give a huge shout out to all the other FanFic writers out there. Constantly putting out new stories. There's so many new ones to read, everywhere.

We share fanart like wildfire(the art deserves love too, and it is seen by how much it is shared all over across platforms), but fanfics not so much, and the fanfic authors need a huge shout out for creating the stories the do.

So if you are a fanfic writer (Or a true published Author👀) I commend you on all your hard work. It isn't easy.

If you want, feel free to reblog, tagging your favourite FanFic Authors. Show them the love.

If you ARE a FanFic Author, and want to, reblog with the work your most proud of.

[ronqueesha]

Which of your OCs is the best/worst dancer?

Thanks for the great question!

The best would be Zoe Iwasaki, although you'd probably never know it if you met her.

(screenshot by @arcandoria)

Zoe was not born to be a daughter, or even a human being. She was born solely because her wealthy corpo parents needed a prop to show in front of their equally rich and well-connected peers. Her parents were afraid of losing their standing among their social group, and thus losing potential sources of money, if they didn't follow along with others of their age group and start a family.

So they ensured that Zoe excelled at every subject in school, had multiple socially-acceptable hobbies, and was nationally recognized for her many talents. All so her parents could brag about her accomplishments when the time was right for such conversations. This included multiple dance lessons, including ballet and other forms of dancing that had multiple recitals and public displays of prowess.

The dark side of all this success was that Zoe had no choice in the matter. She got perfect grades in every class, or she was punished severely. She had to be the best dancer in her troupe, or she was punished severely. Anything from having her possessions destroyed to physical violence were the repercussions of not being a perfect toy for her parents' aspirations. And that was the least of what they did to her.

So yeah... Zoe is a great dancer, but she'll never show anyone.

The worst dancer is no contest, Jane Shepard.

Everyone is familiar with the horrible Shepard Shuffle. The Commander's iconic awful dance move that earned universal (but well meaning) mockery from her shipmates. Even people outside of the Normandy crew eventually learned of the Commander's total lack of rhythm and coordination when various recordings and vids leaked to the extranet.

And somehow, it got even worse after the Reaper War.

When Jane lost her right arm, she spent years learning to re-orient herself and find new balance with her changed body. Unfortunately, all of that effort was wasted when she tried to dance. Shepard's awkward flailing got even worse as her body lost all sense of control and balance without a right arm to keep the shuffle in check.

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

Do you remember that Pirate AU you made a while ago? I think about it all the time, I'm even considering making the boys a dnd character sheet. I'm thinking of adding Haizaki too, do you have any headcanons for him as a pirate?

the referenced pirate au scenario

Pirate!Haizaki Shougo:

like seto, haizaki used to be in the navy, partially to run away from home but mostly because his brother was on his path to becoming an admiral like their father and he didn’t want to fall behind him

however, the combination of a) hating the discipline and uniform of the navy, b) drinking way too much rum as a result, c) killing a few of his shipmates when drunk - all that meant he had no choice but to desert or get hanged

hanamiya’s ship was the first that didn’t ask any questions about why he was signing up to join

(the fact that hara saw the wanted poster with haizaki's face, and said nothing, helped)

doesn’t have a particular role on the ship, but he pretty much just does whatever’s too dangerous for anyone else to do

(aka he’s very easily manipulated - the “oh are you too scared to do ____?” line works a treat)

he's also just downright talented at staying balanced on a ship, after having spent so many years on them, so survives these dangerous tasks pretty easily

spends all his time on land either drinking of looking for a lady to chat up (or a brothel if the later’s not an option); so hanamiya and furu make sure he’s never got too much of the group’s money at any one time

really likes storms, will stay out all night soaked with rain and waves laughing, to the point you’d think he’s egging mother nature on to kill him

(he is. blame the unhappy childhood and growing up on ships instead of knowing a parent's love.)

honestly the only reason he’s still on the Spider is because he gets the chance to beat people up which very conveniently pays for the rest of his lifestyle

plus he can’t imagine leaving the sea

because he’s been from ship to ship since he was just a brat, around 8 years old, he gets serious land sickness if he’s away from the sea too long

so as much as he dreams about becoming a highway robber (terrifying rich people and not having to listen to hanamiya nag at him), he knows all to well that he can’t leave the ship

[tooweirdforyou]

Hello, may I request headcanons of Ace, Sabo, Law & God Ussop x S/O that can draw?

Ace, Sabo, Law + Usopp With An Artistic! S/O

A/N : how cute! thanks for requesting! I’m glad mighty god Usopp was included!! :D so sorry for the delay but I hoped you liked this! :)

Summary : these boys with a significant other who’s quite the artist.

-

Ace

Absolutely mesmerized.

Would be the most awed by your talent, thinking it’s absolutely incredible, especially since Ace can’t even draw a straight line.

Ace would most likely constantly peering over your shoulder when you draw, or at least try to. Or he’ll just barge into the room and pleads you to draw for him, because he loves watching you do so.

He’d want to see all your other works, even your very firsts ones, just so he has a reference of just how much you’ve been improving since you started. He thinks it’s incredible.

Most definitely ask that you draw him, and/or the crew. Even better if you do some humorous drawings, like Marco holding a pineapple in his hands. He wouldn’t even hesitate to show it off, despite it not even being his own work.

Whitebeard would see it and ask that you draw a large portrait of his family, the crew, if you have time, and hangs every one all over the Moby Dick.

Tons of compliments from Izo, Haruta, Vista, Jozu, Thatch, Marco and much, much more.

-

Sabo

Similarly to Ace, Sabo would be extremely impressed and would plead for you to show him more. He’ll even fake pout and sulks until you finally give in if you refused at first.

His favorite moment when you draw is him being able to watch you. He loves seeing your scrunched up and thinking face as you focus all your attention on the careful detail of your drawings, and puckering your bottom lip when you make a mistake. He finds it to be the cutest thing you’ve done.

Absolutely will show it off to everyone, earning many compliments from Koala and Ivankov, and even a few from Hack.

He’d be so overjoyed and proud of you, hugging you tightly and hang your drawings all over his room.

And if you ever asked if he had a request for you, he wouldn’t even hesitate to ask you for a self-portrait of the two of you, just so he can keep it around with him when he goes off on missions and even show it off then.

-

Law

He finds it pretty interesting.

Law definitely makes use of your artistic abilities, using your artwork to draw maps and many other designs needed, since Bepo’s weren’t that great like yours.

He thinks it’s pretty cool, since many has some skill they’re extremely talented at, and yours happens to be drawing. He may be a bit envious but him just admiring it from inside is more than enough for him. It’s sufficient.

Law wouldn’t quite show it off, but he will ask to see your other works, just to see the kind of style you have and if you have any older works that you may have improved from.

And he does enjoy watching you from time to time, especially when you’re out on deck and keeping watch, passing time by drawing and just sitting outside with the moonlight.

If you asked him for any request he may have, Law wouldn’t quite directly say it, but he’d secretly want you to draw a self-portrait of YOURSELF, just so he can secretly keep it on him and carry it around.

-

Usopp

Man, this boy LIVES to have an artistic significant other. He absolutely loves it.

First of all, he loves to draw too, so you two can share tips and drawings with each other to help each other improve! If you two have different styles, it’s even better because you two can learn more.

His favorite part would be having playful drawing contests, on drawing certain objects or things and then ask your shipmates on who’s would be better, often resulting in a tie, or because they wanted to tease Usopp, you won plenty of times as well.

Would work on big art projects together, making arts and crafts and even doing them with Luffy and Chopper if they wanted to join, but prefers to have it just the two of you, to spent time together.

Absolutely will hang it all around the ship and show off your artwork especially, because he loves it so much.

Would put frames and drawings of each of the crew members before putting the final big one of the whole straw hats, and puts it where everyone can see when they board the Thousand Sunny.

-

a/n ; I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY! 🤍

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: Fics for a Wintry Day

This week, rather than doing several separate fic rec entries, I thought I would highlight a few snowy day favorites, both old and new. I love when it gets colder and the snow falls, and it really does begin to look like Christmas outside. It makes me want to cozy up with a few good fics and a cup of coffee even more than I usually do! If you feel the same, I hope you will enjoy revisiting some of these, or discovering them for the first time. 

“Since We’ve No Place to Go” by: @laschatzi 

(the Author’s Summary: After a car accident in the middle of nowhere of rural Maine (where she really shouldn’t have ended up two days before Christmas), Emma Swan almost freezes to death, but is rescued by a three-legged dog named Smee and his grumpy master Killian Jones who can’t seem to get rid of her soon enough to have his self-chosen hermitage back. Alas, the weather outside is frightful, and the fire is so delightful…)

“Merry not Christmas” by: @oubliette14 

(the Author’s Summary: Killian Jones has spent the last five years avoiding everything to do with Christmas; a veritable Grinch. Though perhaps Ebenezer Scrooge is more fitting; he's not out to ruin Christmas, he simply prefers to pretend that it doesn't exist. So what happens when he takes a tumble on the mountainside and is stuck for the holiday, cooped up in a small cabin with his saviour, Emma Swan?)

“You Are My Shelter” by: @justanother-unluckysoul​ 

(the Author’s Summary: An unexpected blizzard hits while Emma and Killian are enjoying a quiet vacation in their forest cabin, forcing them to shelter in place until it passes. The temporary isolation probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Killian hadn’t also gotten injured.)

“Decking the Halls and Slippery Falls” by: @hollyethecurious​ 

(the Author’s Summary: Based on the prompt: I just wanted to put Christmas lights up but I ended up falling off the ladder and crashing into you while you were delivering a package to my door but oh god you’re hot. Also utilizes the snowed in trope to great effect)

“Start of Time” by: @searchingwardrobes​ 

(the Author’s Summary: Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is?)

“Deck the Halls” by: @the-captains-ayebrows​ 

(This one doesn’t have a summary on it, but it’s a teachers enemies-to-friends-lovers situation; Emma and Killian are warring educators, both trying to win a school wide Christmas decor contest.  It’s genuinely funny and sweet and totally priceless!)

“To Keep it all the Year” by: @profdanglaisstuff​

(the Author’s Summary: Killian Jones is a broken man, betrayed by everyone and everything he thought he could believe in. He’s all but given up on life until a fateful meeting with bartender Emma Swan and her son Henry gives him a reason to live again, and a chance to redeem his past.)

*There are tons more, but hope you enjoy these for now!! I don’t want to steer you wrong, but you’re pretty much guaranteed to like every one of these stories!!!*

[lizacstuff]

I just wanted to say that I started following you for SCK but after seeing the Captain Swan gifs, I decided to give OUAT a try and I'm now obsessed with that ship! I wish I was here for those fandom days. What a beautiful slowburn of a story they had - super refreshing to get into during these rough Edser times haha.

Oh I love this! I’ve had many CS shipmates say that they found Edser/SCK though my posts, but this is the first I’ve heard of the reverse!

Captain Swan is EVERYTHING!  Such a beautiful, pure, timeless love story. And fandom! OH FANDOM was a trip. At times OUAT fandom could get vicious because of the giant shipwars, but CS fandom by itself was huge and just chalk full of amazing fanfic writers, jaw-droppingly talented fan artists, wonderful gif makers and insightful meta writers. Also we had fans that went to the set pretty much every day bringing us BTS content and spoilers and fangurling that was second to none.  And if you want to look back on any of it, you’re in the right place because I was, if I do say so myself, an excellent tagger (lol) and my blog is a pretty good archive of that fandom.

If nothing else, I encourage you to look through my con tags because those times were just so much fun. So many fan cons, plus nothing beat the OUAT day at San Diego Comic Con. So many photos, panels and interviews and EVERYTHING.  You can find my page of tags here.   I don’t have it updated with anything SCK yet, but if you scroll down you can find Captain Swan and if you scroll down to the “CS Fan” Section you’ll find all the con tags and can scroll through them.  I think my most favorite fandom day ever was San Diego Comic Con 2014 which was in the summer after season 3 ended, I had no idea what to expect, but it was just a nonstop barrage of amazing content from the cast, WHAT A BLAST. 

Anyway, so glad you’re enjoying it, thanks for stopping by!