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hr43s · 8 days

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Goverment Hooker

dbf Joel Miller x f!reader ( Joel is a Security Guard )

Summary: Joel miller, your dad’s best friend is a security guard for celebrities. He takes you to one of his jobs as part of a university homework you need to do, but he let his guard down.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI ! No outbreak, Unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation, explicit smut, a lil dominant Joel, secret relationship, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, fingering, semi-public sex, very slight bondage ( hand tied up, can easily be freed if wanted),Age gap, DBF Joel because who doesn't like that tbh, reader is in her 20', No body description except outfit and gender, no outbreak, porn w/plot, fluff, kind of slowburn.

w/c: 6k ( i'm actually proud for a second time )

a/n: Second smut !! i'm so proud of this one it's wayyy longer than the first one i did and like 10 times better (crying). Also theres a fanart on the banner but when i found it on pinterest the artist wasnt tagged :((( so please if you know who it is please feel free to comment !! love you whoever is reading this <3

Thank you for reading <3 notes, comments and reblog are heavily appreciated !!

“I need to do this uh…homework” you chew on your food. Good, delicious, and steamy coming right out of the stove. “I have to go to one of you two’s job and make a report” you stab one of the peas in your plate. “I mean I’d gladly take you but you know how boring my job is, huh? And your mom’s abroad” your dad says, rushing to eat his plate.

Your dad works a night job at an Amazon warehouse, something about packing orders, taking a box, putting wrapping paper and the object inside the box, taping it up, taking another box, putting wrapping paper inside, and bla bla bla… Your mom, she’s an airplane pilot going around the world. She’s barely home but she always make sure to send you some well decorated cards with landscapes on them, or to ship some gifts like magnets, you love magnets, your fridge is full of it by now but you still getting excited every time a small box arrives home. But like your dad said, you can’t possibly go with her. “Maybe you should go with Miller, from across the street, remember him ?” Of course you do, even though your dad and him didn’t meet for a long time like they used to. You kind of miss the nights around the barbecue where they would both laugh their ass off together, but now this barbecue is black and grey with dust of burnt charcoal that hasn’t been cleaned in a while. You haven’t talked to Miller since the last time the three of you met for dinner. The only interaction you’d have with him now would only stop at a little wave from across the street and a “hey how you doing?” every once in a while when leaving the house. “I mean why not…” you think. “What’s his job? We haven’t talked in a long time, wasn’t he in a contracting job or something like that ?” Your plate empty, you get up and pick up your plate along with your dad’s and put them into the dishwasher. “ yeah… think he got some problems with his brother, and they were both fired for some reasons. Now I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s wearing black suits every morning when he leaves so maybe it’s a job interesting enough for you to work on it.” He sighs, like a dad sigh, and gets up from his chair, walking out of the room. “food was good honey” he smile. That same night, your dad left for work while you’re in front of Miller’s door. The lights are on inside, it’s dim and gives a comforting vibe to his house which is quite unexpected for a man as rough and difficult as Mr. Joel Miller. You knock on the hard wood of his door, kind of hesitant because why would you go see your neighbor for a homework based on your parents? You shake your head. Whatever, no one is going to know anyways. The door open in a quick swift with a sudden smell of crackling fire and…roasted potatoes and meat? “Hey Miller,” you greet looking into his eyes, brown and sleepy. “I’m sorry to bother you but I had a question quite important.” He smile and nod “whatcha want kiddo’?”. You forgot his seductive accent, a while back it wouldn’t have the same effects that it has on you right now. You’re still a little hesitant to ask, afraid to bother him this late and during dinner. “I have this homework I’m supposed to do on one of my parent’s job. I have to go with them for like a day and make a report, but my parents are too busy, and dad told me to ask you instead” “Well, I’d gladly help you but uh, it’s quite early in’a mornin” “That’s fine, I can get up early.” You smile at him “Well now that you’re here,” he looks back to his kitchen, then back at you. “I got spare dinner here, wanna eat here so we can talk about this a little and maybe if you want…crash here for the night? The job has flexible hours so if I get a call earlier, I need ya to be ready.” This was kind of unexpected, but you’re surprised, a good surprised. “I’m down but I didn’t take any clothes with me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d agree with this.”

You laugh it off, kind of embarrassed and a bit flustered. “I’ll give you something to sleep in” he smiles.

Spending the night at his house, eating dinner with him. All these emotions, the butterflies in your stomach is all new. You never really thought about it, but hell Mr. Miller is kind of hot. You’ve always dated guys your age. Some were good and some others disappointing, but you never thought of dating someone older and especially not this old or anyone being your dad’s best friend. The forbidden love that is so slowly and so suddenly growing in you. Why now? Why him. You sit down at the end of the table. Joel’s in the kitchen preparing the food. He brings the plates to the table, and he sit at your left, close to you. And you were right, it was potatoes and meat, and it was quite good compared to what you thought Joel was capable of and it’s quite pleasing to be eating this good. After a while talking about your homework, how the day would most likely go and you daydreaming about how hot he is the more you look at him, he offers you to watch a movie before bed. You both sit down and start watching this movie called Curtis and Viper 2, you’d figure it’s his favorite since he can’t stop going “oh look here” or “I love this scene” every once in a while. After what feels like a hour, your eyes are slowly closing and before you realize, your head is on his shoulder. It was slowly falling with time, and by the look on his face he doesn’t seem to be too bothered about you getting so close to him. “Wake up sweetheart” his voice is calm. You lift your head to follow the sound of his voice “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” you say while standing up. “I think I’m gonna take a shower before bed.” You go upstairs and into the bathroom. It’s quite big and smells like colognes and 3 in 1 shampoo. You always feel weird taking a shower at other people’s house, scared someone might walk in so you cough loudly to let the whole house know someone’s in here. You take a big towel for your body, a small one for your face and hair and hang them both on the dryer to make them warm for when you get out. The water is hot and steamy, droplets hits your face like ashes from a fire and you’re hot but not just from the water. Your core keeps burning for him and it gets worst with time. You can’t stop thinking about him, His face, his body, his shirt showing every detail of his biceps, his veins going down his arm and hands, his calloused fingers from playing guitar touching you, feeling your body. Fuck. Too far. You rinse the soap off your body and step out of the shower. The light is dim and making you even more sleepy than you already are. You put on whatever moisturizer Joel has in his bathroom filled with man products, breaking your skincare for one night won’t affect your skin too much. Suddenly the door open. Maybe you should’ve fucking coughed instead of daydreaming like a teen. Joel stops, his mouth slightly open in an “o” shape.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry sweetheart I should’ve knocked first,” he turns his head around as you quickly grab your towel from the floor and wrap it around you. “ ‘forgot to give you clothes before you got in.” He hands you the clothes, his clothes, considering Sarah has left a long time ago. “It’s okay you can look, I’m covered.” You say shyly. He turns back to you and unconsciously look you up and down without saying a word. You take the stash from his hands. “Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute” you smile. You finish changing in his shirt, a too-big dark brown shirt with his name embroidered on the top right part, must be from his old job as a contractor. You figure you’d be better in your panties rather than the pants he gave you considering the weather and how warm it is in this house. You go back into the living room and start searching for a blanket to sleep in. Luckily one big enough to cover your body but not your feet is folded neatly in a drawer under the TV. “Whatcha doin?” Joel goes down the stairs. “Oh I’m just…getting my bed ready” “There’s no way you’re sleeping here,” he says, in a commanding tone “Sarah’s room is my gym now, so you’ll sleep in my bed.” You let out a muffled laugh “yeah like you’ll sleep on a damn couch with your broken back you old grandpa ?” He looks at you with a crooked smile, a little hurt since you called him a grandpa but your personality makes him smile. “Yeah well what do ya suggest smartass ?” You’re hesitant to even try to suggest it but hell if he doesn’t want you on the couch then you need to try other solutions no matter how embarrassing they can be. “Then let’s both sleep in your bed.” You both end up in his bed. It’s awkward, a lot, but at least it’s comfy. Joel is long fallen asleep while you twist and turn every few minutes trying so hard to sleep but something is keeping you awake, something deep down in your core. Joel turns and end up facing you, still sound asleep. You can’t help but look at him and all his features. His crooked nose, his wrinkles softer than when he’s awake. It makes you realize that he’s almost constantly frowning, giving him a mean gaze that could scare people that don’t know him personally. But here, now, he’s so soft and so different. Oh, and he’s shirtless. It’s distracting but you’re in panties, so it feels a bit more casual. His skin is slightly tanned, just the perfect kind of tanned at this time of the year, and it’s a good tan, a brown one not a tomato kind of tanned. Fuck, you need to sleep. You turn around trying not to think about him and finally sleep, when you suddenly feel something against you. Joel moved closer, and he’s now wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath stops for a second. It’s probably just a reflex from his body but he’s so warm, a good warm even though it’s hot under the sheets but you don’t want to wake him up. The sensation in your core is growing, like an alien trying to come out of your stomach to eat you out. “Fuck you Miller” you whisper. You hear a phone buzz and it’s waking you up. Joel is still holding you but now he’s closer and you can feel something hard on your lower back. It makes you blush but no matter how hard you try, his arm is holding you tight and you can’t escape. “Joel,” you shake his arm slowly. You hear him grumble. “Your phone is ringing”.

“Shit” he finally wakes up and it takes a few seconds for him to realize the position he’s in, and the way his body reacted to yours. “I’m so sorry, I uh… I have no excuse” he jumps out of the bed and takes his phone. He takes the call and leave the room. You check the clock. 5 a.m., you throw yourself back into the bed. “a C might’ve been better than this” you spit. Joel comes back in the room after a few minutes. “Just got a call, some job for us in a city nearby, you should get dressed” he leaves the room once again.

You put on the same clothes as yesterday, a black tank top with black shorts and some converse. You thought maybe dressing all black just like Joel’s uniform would make you look a bit more professional.

“You look stunning” Joel says, entering the room in a full black costume. It’s neatly ironed, not a single wrinkle in sight.

“Looking good too, Miller,” you walk towards him and tighten his tie a bit more.

He smiles “thanks angel”. Dammit, can’t he stop with the pet names, he’s going to make you blush.

“So, where are we going?” you tie your shoe laces in a tight ribbon

“I told ya’, a city a few minutes away from here. We’re taking my truck.”

You already took a trip in Joel’s truck when you were younger, but it was different, your dad was here to do the conversation and make things less embarrassing but now it’s a whole different situation. You still don’t know what to do with your feelings, should you tell him on the road? during the job? you can’t think straight with the small time of sleep you had.

You both hop into his truck; the weather is still quite hot for an early morning.

“How much time till we get there?” you buckle up and look at your phone.

“We got 20 minutes, you can put on some music if you want”

You connect your phone and put on some Arctic Monkeys on. You’re still debating if you should try to make a move on Joel because honestly, you’re starting to miss getting laid, and trying it out with an older guy would be fun.

But the fact that Miller is your dad’s friend makes it weird. Would he get along with it? Or would he just stop you the moment you put your lips on his?

Giving it a try won’t hurt considering you barely see him anyways so avoiding him won’t be too hard. Just no waving and no “Hi Mr. Miller” from across the street.

After like 5 minutes, Joel finally talks.

“Are you seeing anyone? Some guy from your school?” He lowers the volume of your music.

“No, why?” Here. Make a move. “Would you be jealous if I was?” you open the drawer in front of you and search for some candy, every sane people has some sweets in their car. You find a lollipop and unwrap it.

“ ‘twas just a question” he says as you put the lollipop in your mouth and lay your feet on the dashboard. He side eyes you and sigh.

“Well, no, no one’s interesting enough, I guess. Everyone is so focused on school; I haven’t seen a single person kiss another in the corridors or in some empty classes.”

You lick at your lollipop as you make eye contact with him. “Guess I should try older.” You smirk.

You see him adjust in his seat and taking a deep breath. He turns the volume back on to the song.

“How many secrets can you keep ?

‘Cause there’s this tune I found

That makes me think of you

somehow”

This song couldn’t be even more on point than now.

“What about you,” you ask, “You seeing anyone?”

“Not really, not really searchin’ for sum’ serious right now” he leans on the edge of his window, putting his hand into a fist to cover his mouth, he fidgets.

“So like… you just want sex?”

He chokes on his own saliva and coughs “What the fuck are you on about? Jesus “he spits “I mean, maybe, but I’m not actively searching or anythin’”

“You got any age preference?” You take a chance.

“Uh…No, not really” You turn to him, making your belt a bit longer so you can get comfortable.

“Would you fuck me?” You lick on your lollipop; it has become a small pink ball now with all the sucking and licking.

“Jesus girl, you’re my best friend’s daughter” he doesn’t even seem angry or annoyed at the question somehow.

“You didn’t say no though” you smile.

“Doesn’t mean I agree.”

“Okay but, imagine if I wasn’t, would you?” he keeps looking at your lips while you talk.

“You gotta learn how to walk before learning how to run, sweetheart”

“What if I wanna run though?” You say as his grip tightens on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

You both arrive at a hotel Joel’s company booked before you two arrived. It’s a nice place, a 5 stars hotel. He must stay at the same hotel as the person he has to protect, obviously.

“They booked us…well, me, a single bedroom since it wasn’t really planned for you to come, so we’ll have to share a bed” Joel say

“Again” you smirk. He’s probably already annoyed by you, but he still hasn’t complain, you just assume.

“Come” her orders you, you follow him to the room.

It’s quite big, it has a double bed with dark burgundy sheets and pillows, a big shower along the right side of the room that is basically the size of a whole bathroom, there’s two showerheads and the walls are transparent, so yes, a few meters long shower. What for? No idea.

The toilets are on the other side of the room along with a double sink and a huge light up mirror and fancy soaps you will definitely steal. There’s windows and a balcony in the between with a fancy view on the city.

“We’re gonna have to sleep here tonight if that’s okay with ya’, we might come back home late, and the room is free so we should enjoy instead of going home.”

two nights in a row in the same bed as Joel wasn’t something you’ve planned but you’re not mad about it, to be honest. As long as your assignment is complete…hopefully.

“We got an hour before we have to leave,” he put his bag to the side of the bed. “You can sleep a bit if you want, try to take back the hours of sleep you lost.”

Wait? is he aware that you were awake? Did he grab you on purpose? There’s no way.

“I’m not really tired anymore,” you sit on the bed in front of Joel as he unbuttons his suit jacket. You look up at him and bite your lips. You’re praying inside that he doesn’t reject you, that he follows your movements.

“Well, ion’ know what else you could do besides wait here like a behaved girl” Fuck, was this intentional? If not, it still turned you on.

You have no idea what to do right now, unbuckle his belt, suck him off? Or tease him?

Tease him.

You stand up and start walking towards the huge transparent walls shower, taking off your clothes on the way. Once arrived in the shower, you stand under the showerhead, open the water hose, and turn around searching for Joel.

He’s looking at you with black eyes, devouring you with his hands on his hips.

“Fuck” he spits.

He hurries to unbutton his shirt and take his fancy well ironed pants off along with his boxer.

Oh.My.God.

Your heart has never raced this fast in your life. He’s so big and he’s not even hard yet, you wonder how you never notice it before.

He gets into the shower and stand right in front of you under the shower, the water dripping down his hair and the tip of his nose.

“I don’t know what the fuck ya’ want from me, but you’re tempting me you fucking tease” His word travel down your spine and reaches your core.

His hands slide down your side, reaching your panty line.

“You have an hour to choose if you want to have fun or if you wanna go get a snack and get ready to write your lil’ presentation about me” his face gets closer to yours as your back arches.

“What if I want you to be my snack?” You say, slightly touching the tip of his cock growing bigger the more he looks at you.

He takes your wrists and pin them above your head and hold them up with one of his hands as the other grip one of your breasts. His fingertips are slightly twisting your nipple as he brings his lips to yours, indulging in a dirty, filthy kiss being washed away by the water running down.

Your hand grabs his shaft, stroking it slowly. “You’re so dam’ teasing’, if your father finds out I’m making out with his daughter, I’m a dead man” he growls as your hand twist slightly when reaching the tip of his cock

“We can keep it secret.” You smirk

“You wanna be my dirty little secret, huh?”

You hear a phone ringing on the bed, but Joel turns your head back to him. “Leave it, they’ll call back.”

After a session of teasing and kissing in the too-big shower, the both of you come out of it all wet and steamy. Joel picks up a towel and wrap it around you. He takes another one, smaller, and dries your hair with it. He is so gentle even though you’ve been closed to him for a few hours only, the day before he would only see you as the daughter of your best friend that lives across the street, nothing more.

Joel walks to the bed and pick up his phone, his towel around his hips.

“Fuck!” He screams. “Boss called, the woman I was supposed to work for left earlier, we should’ve been gone by now” He put his clothes back on, muttering shit shit shit while doing so.

A black car with tinted windows comes out of the underground garage of the hotel and stops right in front of you.

“You’re in fucking trouble Miller” The driver guy said. He is big, his black vest almost merging into one with his muscles.

Joel opens the door for you and almost pushes you in.

“We’re ten minutes away from her, you better get yourself ready M” he says, hitting the gas.

You feel something on your thigh, crawling all the way from your knee to the base of your leg, Joel’s warm hands are touching you, slowly going towards your inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He gets closer to your ear while his hand finally touches your clit through your panties.

“You got me in trouble, made me lose my mind just so I could touch you,” He pulls your panties to the side and slide two fingers through your slit, wetting them just before entering your core with thick digits.

You struggle to keep your pleasure to yourself as a few squeals comes out of your mouth. The car is going fast, the sound of the engine covering whatever filthy sounds you make.

His other hand is reaching for the neckline of your top, his finger slightly pulls on it to have a quick peek of your breasts. You keep panting, his finger crooked into you, reaching that soft spongy spot that makes you shiver if it’s played with a little too much.

“ ‘Atta girl” he say, your heart pounding harder, getting closer to your climax and then…

He stops. Fuck

Your walls are clenching around nothing, it’s demanding for more, something bigger. It’s only waiting for him, but how much longer can you hold it?

The car pulls up to a fancy restaurant with a forest green and gold storefront. You see a few paparazzi outside taking pictures from afar, probably of the girl inside.

The driver gets out of the car and pull out his phone, calling to get orders.

“Take them off” Joel says looking at you, then your hips

“What…My panties?” you frown.

“Yeah” He smirk, and he’s so damn hot when he does.

You take your shorts off along with your panties. They’re black with some floral lace at the top, hot but still comfortable and covering.

Joel takes it in his hands and makes a small ball of fabric out of it and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. “Mine” he whispers, kissing you one last time before getting out of the car, holding out his hand for you to follow him.

“We have to secure the perimeter and make sure none of this fuckers get in” the big guy say as you take out your notebook and a pen from your backpack and start taking notes: how things start, Joel’s role, his coworkers, and other thing you couldn’t care less about because right now your mind is focused on Joel and not his work, more like the stuff in his pants.

You follow Joel inside the restaurant as he gives his name to the front desk. He sits you at a table near the outside window.

“Sit here so I can keep an eye on ya’ from outside, take your notes here…look at me and scribble whatever you needa scribble,” he gently caresses your hair as you look up to him “Order anything ya’ want, it’s on me sweetheart” he kisses your forehead and rushes outside, seating at an outside table as a server brings him a cup of coffee. He looks so damn professional for a man who has finger fucking you just a few minutes ago while on your side, you can’t stop thinking about him, your inner thigh still dripping wet.

You order the breakfast menu with some fancy beacon and eggs with toast that cost way too much for little to no change compared to the ones you make at home.

The lady Miller and his big friend are supposed to watch is not far away from you, she’s really pretty, you actually don’t know who she is but considering her style she might be a model, or an actor…or a singer?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you see a number pulling up with a text.

Unknown Number: Still wet baby ?

You: Joel ??? howd u get my number?????

You save his number into your contacts.

Joel: Your dad just gave it to me, in case

You put your phone back on the table and keep writing stuff on your notebook, adding more details to the things you’ve already summed up earlier.

Your phone buzzes again.

Joel: what you writing ?

You: Shouldn’t u be watching that girl instead of me ?

Joel: yeah but I’d rather focus on you and ur bare pussy

You: omg shut up and do your work so I can have an A+

After a full day of running around town following that lady no matter where she’d go; Louis Vuitton, Prada, a random grocery store for some Redbull. All this while Joel and the big guy were watching her along with a few paparazzi they had to push away. You? You were standing behind Joel the whole time, trying not to be a menace to his job like this morning. All this time of walking around in no panties with only your shorts for cover, you finally go back to your hotel room, exhausted.

“Fuck it I’m so damn tired” You pant after walking up to your room.

Joel comes from behind, throwing your bag away and grabs you from behind, nestling his nose in your neck.

“You too exhausted to get taken care of angel?” you feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin. “Maybe I have a little energy to play a bit” you smile too.

He spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away in a second. He starts undoing your shorts, freeing your cunt for good. He immediately slides his hand down to feel the wetness between your legs.

“You’re so damn wet, is it all because a’me baby?” he says, close to your ear.

“You made me wait all day long,” you say, “don’t act so surprised.”

“Stop being such a brat, honey, I’m gonna take good care of you, like no one did before.”

And you know he doesn’t lie, just this morning in the shower and in the car, he treated you way better than any man did before, not that Miller is so damn special but the boys you were with were mostly unexperienced or scared, now at least he knows where your clit and your G spot is.

You’d never thought you’d do this with a person way older than you but now that you think about it, it should’ve been on your bucket list for a while.

He starts kissing you, again and again, not letting a single air particle get through your mouth as he pushes you until the back of your knees touches the table behind you. He grabs your waist, lift you up and sits you on it.

He quickly parts your legs to make space for him as you start to unbutton his plain white shirt.

“You’re so damn hot in that costume Mr. Miller,” you say as he growls for an answer “too bad we need to take it off.”

His bulge is growing bigger with time, his tip pushing onto the zipper. You’re still amazed by how big it is, even though it hurts sometimes it can be exciting.

He finally unzips his pants and take his boxer away while you take your shirt off in a hurry. His cock is throbbing, touching in between your legs almost like its attracted to you like a magnet.

The horniness is high today, the both of you couldn’t stop looking at each other. Him scanning your body up and down when you walk, devouring you with his eyes.

“I hope you touch yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me after that” and he’s right, you might. Touching yourself surely isn’t as good as Joel touching you, or even fucking with him which you’re going to find out, but maybe thinking of him would make it better.

Excitement is pooling in your core, and it’s about to overflow. Your body is heating up as Joel rub himself against your folds, spreading your fluids all over his shaft. Your hips can’t stop moving back and forth almost begging for him to finally get in, to fill you, possess you.

“Please, Joel, please just fuck me already” you keep begging for him.

A slight laugh comes out of his mouth as he finally pushes in and fuck, he’s so big, bigger than you thought it would be inside of you but it’s just perfect. He stretches you just right, almost like he belonged to you, and you belonged to him like a key belongs to one single door.

He starts pushing in, slowly, but your body decided otherwise and started pushing in even more.

“Hey honey, relax,” he takes back the inches you took from him “I wanna go slow, don’t wanna hurt my girl” The stretch did hurt a little bit but it’s like your pussy needs more.

His hips are going back and forth slowly but it still makes you moan, his thick shaft stimulating your inside just right.

“Just like that, baby.” He wet his lips. Your hand goes down and rubs your clit, following his pace.

“That’s it girl, keep touching yourself like that,” he rasps. His head falls back as he feels you tighten around him. “I love seeing you touch yourself like that baby”.

His hips start to trust faster and deeper, rubbing on your g-spot making you shiver after a few times with your hand stimulating you.

Your nails keep digging into his back, and it hurts him. You know because he keeps frowning. “Fuck baby your nails are sharp as fuck” Getting long black Stiletto nails was a bad idea.

He crashes his lips onto yours as he suddenly lifts you up in his arms, his cock still in you.

“Imma make you pay for those marks” He says as he look in the mirror behind him giving a full view on the mark you imprinted on him.

He throws you onto the bed, making your walls suddenly clench around nothing. You see him grab his tie he left on the bed earlier and brings it around your wrists.

“Oh -- so your form of punishment is to tie me up, huh?” you smile.

“Uh huh” he nods.

He makes a tight knot; you know for sure it’s going to leave marks on your wrists…that’s his way of making you pay for his.

He throws your arms over your head, one of his hands holding you down. Your unable to move, unable to feel his body with your hands, this is the worst punishment you could think of for your first time knowing you probably won’t see each other for a while once you go back home, unless you hide, all this until maybe this goes further and one day you reveal to your dad that you’re fucking his best friend for a while. Damn it, you shouldn’t be thinking about this, right now you should focus on Miller and enjoy the night while it last.

He keeps fucking you deep and rough, your hand still tied up firmly. He pounds into you, changing his pace from time to time until you’re on the edge of cumming, finally.

“Joel please, I’m so close” your brows furrow, your head is spinning with excitement, and it get worse the closer to your climax you get.

“Cum for me baby, I’ll cum after you do” Looks like he put women first, he’s a gentleman.

After more moans, and more trusting, you finally come, your juices spreading all over him.

“Atta’ girl, good job” he praises you, and fuck he’s doing it well. He finally comes too, emptying out on your belly.

“Fuck Joel, I love you”

You didn’t mean to say that – but maybe you do, kind of. Good thing he doesn’t seem to have noticed as he kisses your forehead, gets up and walk to the opened shower. He comes back holding a small towel that he submerged in warm water. “There, baby” he says while cleaning your tummy.

After a whole night fucking with Joel multiple times and discovering more things about your body, and new positions, you finally go back home. Your essay is done and hopefully going through all this will get you an A+.

You’re on your couch with your dad, talking about how your day went while watching TV, obviously skipping the whole fucking your best friend part, when the broadcast is showing pictures of the woman Joel had to cover yesterday.

“Oh, look that’s her !” You say, excited. “That’s the woman we were with yesterday, didn’t talk to her, she seemed nice even though she’s a celebrity and they’re often viewed as self-centered and unaware but she-“

Your dad pauses the TV and looks at you with wide eyes, cutting you off. You look at the image on the wide flat screen and see you and Joel kissing in 4K HD right in front of your dad, furious. Your heart skips a beat, or multiple.

“You got some explaining to do, young girl.”

<3 Hr43s

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 month

Text

🎀 CM KidFic Challenge 🧸

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of March AND April, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including children, babies, or pregnancy (biological, adoptive, animal, etc.) using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

Prompts

Child says their first word(s)

Child becomes an older sibling

Character stands up for their child

The couple enjoys trying for a baby

Characters are fantastic platonic co-parents

Child is starting to act a lot like their parent(s)

The couple announces their pregnancy to everyone

The couple fosters a teenager preparing for college

The couple takes their child to college/their own place

The couple thinks they’re having twins… but it’s triplets

Character runs into their ex who has a child that looks just like them

The couple realizes how different things are the second, third, etc. time

Character needs reassurance about the fact they don’t enjoy being pregnant

Character finds that being around Child helps them heal their own inner child

The couple babysits together, which leads to a conversation about their future

Character struggles with the fact that their teenage kid has their first partner

Character is very attentive to their pregnant partner... almost irritatingly so

Character witnesses a quiet moment with their partner and their baby during a night feeding

Character, chronically single, asks their best friend if they’d be open to having a child with them

Child realizes that not every kid has two moms/two dads and they have a lot of questions about it

The couple takes Child to daycare for the first time but they can’t make themselves leave the parking lot

Child is having a hard time at school, so Character picks them up from school for a day of quality time together

Pregnancy cravings lead to a very dramatic late-night grocery store trip that makes Character fall more in love

Anything else you can imagine!

Childfree/Pregnancy-Free prompts below + Create your own!

Childfree/Pregnancy-Free Prompts

Character is the fun uncle/aunt

The couple adopts a pet together

Character gets to meet their partner’s (judgmental) pet

Character reveals that they don't want to have children and their partner's reaction surprises them

A child the BAU saved comes back years later to thank them and show what they’ve done with their life

The couple decides to give up on becoming parents and they learn how to have a fulfilled life without a child

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check.Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will be posted around May 1. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy Writing!

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irisintheafterglow · 5 months

Text

every love I've known in comparison is a failure

summary: the stars appear over baratie, creating the perfect atmosphere to embarrass your husband. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: established relationship, swearing, allusions to canon-typical blood and violence, drinking and alcohol, flashback to a very silly meet ugly lol

note: (part one is linked here!) HELLO ZORO NATION, here is the highly requested part 2 to "if he's a ghost then i can be a phantom." hope you like it, i definitely had fun writing it because he's just,,,, such a himbo man. @alphaash99 thank you for the inbox ask, sorry it took so long to answer!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“I don’t know what else to tell you; that’s really all there is to it,” you laugh, taking another sip from your glass. “He brings me heads and I give him money.”

“Brought you heads,” your husband corrects from your side, his arm draped securely over your shoulders. “Right now, I’m the one with a fire under my ass.”

“Mhmm, but apparently I’m still giving you money,” you remind him, nodding toward the overflowing coin pouch of Berry at the center of the table. He shrugs a broad shoulder in defeat, unsuccessfully trying to hide his smile.

“Okay, but you’re leaving out the part where you somehow fell in love with this…oaf.” Nami gestures vaguely at the crew’s swordsman and his jaw drops in indignation. Luffy and Usopp break into another fit of delirious giggling while Sanji leaves to fetch yet another bottle. Everyone present knew his ego was bruised from his failed attempts to charm you. “I think he has less romantic appeal than an overripe banana.”

“At this point, just say that I’m ugly,” he chuckles lightheartedly and she shakes her head in exasperation. “I’m obviously not that bad since this is who I married.” The two remaining boys at the table give polite applause, to which Zoro murmurs his melodramatic appreciation like he was accepting an award. You couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed while he was drinking. Most of the time, you had to steer him to whatever ship he was calling home for the night while simultaneously preventing him from stabbing anything that moved.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Nami snorts and Zoro makes a mocking face that you raise your hand up to cover. “But, seriously. How’d he get you?” You pause, searching for words in your foggy mind and getting distracted by the speckling of midnight stars up above. Following the disastrous first meeting with the crew’s chef, their swordsman reluctantly introduced you to the rest of his new friends. You spent the remainder of the evening sipping a fruity drink with your legs crossed over your husband’s lap and regaling the table with embarrassing stories about their favorite stoic crewmate.

“In all honesty, our first meeting was a fluke,” you admit after some time. Sanji returns with a new bottle and pours himself a hefty glass before sliding it to the center of the group, settling in to listen to your story. “I was there by mistake; he was there by mistake. I guess the two canceled out.”

Years ago, when you were still confined to the walls of the Marine base, a series of unexpected changes in your itinerary allowed you an afternoon of freedom. You were visiting from your father’s countryside estate to once again ask if you could sail on one of his ships, only to receive the same dismissive answer as every request before. As if to rub more salt in the wound, he also notified you that Mihawk would be docking in two days time to continue your training. After jumping the gun a little too early and skipping the flattery dinner to get him drunk enough to grant your request, you were left with an extra day to wander the dry, lifeless walls of the installation. With a leg propped up on your father’s expensive leather chair and the other resting on the windowsill facing the ocean, you don’t bother turning when the door opens and the sound of boots echoes through the office.

“Get out and I won’t tell the captain you came in here,” you say boredly, staring at the vast blue water that seemed to spell out freedom in the seafoam. The voice that replies is too disrespectful to ever come from the mouth of one of your father’s underlings.

“I wasn’t aware the captain wore such promiscuous clothing.” You startle, swiveling abruptly to face the stranger that entered the room. He wasn’t a Marine at all, you quickly realized, not with that bright green hair and enough wrinkles in his clothes to look like your great grandfather’s forehead. But, what gave him away the most was his eyes. They weren’t like the eyes of other men you looked at, the ones who would cower or rake over you like you were some entree at a feast. No, this stranger looked at you curiously and with amusement that irked you.

He looked at you like you were a new challenge.

“Who are you?”

“Roronoa Zoro, the Pirate Hunter,” he replies and your eyes flick to his sharp jawline. If he weren’t in the room, you would have slapped yourself to regain your composure. “I have a bounty I’d like to turn in.” He tosses a burlap sack dripping with dark liquid onto your father’s equally expensive desk and you don’t even flinch. Your lack of a reaction seems to spur him further and he tilts his head to the side, studying you.

“What’d my old man promise you?”

“The captain is your father?” His eyes narrow on you and you glare, not backing down.

“Answer my question first,” you fire back without hesitation.

“Five hundred thousand Berry,” he answers and you nod, reaching over to one of the intricately carved drawers and pulling out a stack of bills and a dense pouch of coins. Rolling the bills into a wad and stuffing it into the coin purse, he catches it with ease when you toss it to him. “You’re not gonna verify if I’m giving you the right number?”

“That would imply that I care about how much you’re taking from my father,” you point out, “Which, I really don’t. I couldn’t care less, frankly, if you ransacked this entire office. Just don’t get caught or both our asses will have a fire under them.” He hums in assent and turns to leave, but as his hand hovers over the door handle, he hesitates and looks at you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing here by yourself?”

“Trying to figure out how to sneak out of this fucking hellhole,” you mutter with obvious distaste. A thoughtful look crosses his features and he chucks you a crumpled cloak from a nearby dressing table. “What are you–”

“Put it on. Let’s get out of here,” he states and you hastily throw it over your clothes, slipping behind the swordsman while he guides you out of the base. He knows his way around the tunnels and, with the cloak obscuring your identity, successfully sneaks you out of the dusty beige walls of the base. The smell of garlic and fried food wafts into your nostrils and you drift toward it, feeling in your pocket for your own small coin pouch. Zoro falls into step next to you effortlessly and follows you to the enticing grill. “Someone’s hungry.”

“I’ve been eating nothing but government slop for the past twenty four hours. If I have to see another spoonful hit my plate, I’ll actually die,” you deadpan and the corner of his mouth turns up in amusement. Without bothering to count the amount, you drop a handful of coins into the vendor’s roughened palms and ask for enough food to feed you and the man next to you. She gladly obliges, stacking various grilled sticks of food onto a plate and thanking you profusely for your generosity. “We’re gonna eat and you’re going to explain to me why you snuck me out,” you command and you’re glad to sense him continue to stay by your side.

During the few hours you spend with Zoro, you find yourself utterly enthralled by him and he is fascinated by you. You listen to his stories about hunts and his bounties and find yourself in awe of how non-arrogantly he speaks of his job. You’d sat down for numerous fancy dinners with egotistical Marines that wanted to sleep their way into good graces with your father, but eating with Zoro was nothing like that. He was an amazing listener and, when you thought he was just ignoring something you said, he ended up saying something just as thoughtful a few moments later. His visits became more frequent and you continued to find excuses to linger around the base in hopes that he would sneak you out again. Your father’s rage would end both of you if he ever found out, but the thrill of secrecy was your newest addiction.

“He asked to marry me a few years after I helped him empty my dad’s wallet,” you recall, fondly remembering the disaster that was his proposal. “He had this whole shabang planned out with a sunset and fancy cheeses–”

“And then it fucking rained,” he grumbles before taking another sip. “Fucking storm rolled in and blew away the entire setup.”

“That’s still romantic, though,” Luffy offers reassuringly. “Getting down on one knee in the rain.”

“It is,” you smirk, “if he didn’t drop the ring off the cliffside.” The crew erupts into shocked cackling, tears pricking the edges of their eyes.

“You dropped the fucking ring?”

“The wind was strong!”

“Wait, so then how’d you get that one?” Usopp points at the green gem embedded in the simple gold band. It was strikingly similar to the one hanging from a chain around your husband’s neck, a decision made so he didn’t lose it while he was fighting.

“He went out and bought one from the market the next day. It was, what, fifty Berry?”

“You bought them a cheap ass ring after you dropped the expensive one,” Nami echoes in disbelief. Zoro opens his mouth to argue but is cut off with even louder shrieks from the table. “How the hell did you pull them?”

“It’s something I ask myself every time I see this ring,” he concedes. “But one thing I do know is that they deserve more than I can ever give them.” The soft look on his face when he turns to you never fails to make your body feel like it’s floating. It’s only when Luffy slams his palms on the table decisively that you snap out of your lovesick trance.

“Alright, that settles it,” he states with finality.

“Settles what?”

“You’re going to join our crew.” Usopp raises his glass like he’d seen the order coming from miles away. Sanji turns a slightly darker shade of pink but doesn’t protest.

“I could use someone that isn’t oozing with testosterone on the ship,” Nami adds when you’re unable to respond immediately. You can feel Zoro’s body tense next to you and, when you place a comforting hand on his shoulder, it feels like pure stone. He knew firsthand that asking you to leave was a touchy subject, especially when it was hard for the child of a captain to disappear into the blue. If you were out there with him, he told you, he wouldn’t be able to assure your safety when he was on hunts. Though you both knew you could handle yourself just fine, it always seemed to be a matter of poor timing when it came to running away together. Poor timing, that is, until now.

Zoro wasn’t alone now, and you don’t even hesitate.

“Do I get to choose a cool signature weapon like everyone else?” The captain’s face breaks into a blinding grin and begins a long ramble of different weapons you could choose from. Your husband’s body hasn’t lost its stiffness and he lowers his voice to a tone that only you could hear.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His eyebrows furrow, unconvinced. “I said I’d do anything to be with you, didn’t I?”

“But piracy, love? You’re willing to go that far for me?”

“You know I’d go even farther if I needed to,” you murmur and that settles it. You catch an excited glint in Zoro’s eye and lean in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not the only swordsman on the ship anymore, husband.”

“And I’ve finally gotten you out of that damned base, so I think it’s a good time to renew those vows.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #ask iris!#one piece x y/n

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sailor-aviator · 3 months

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter Six

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warning: Brief mentions of loss of loved ones, Guppy has a meltdown (justified), Talks of Curse, Talks of the supernatural, Sword Fighting, Flirting, Someone gets stabbed (like run through with a sword), Descriptions of blood, Mentions of alcohol, Swearing, Assault but not really (you'll see), Smut (knife play, dry humping, groping, dirty talk, both get off), angst, a smidge of fluff. I think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 5.8k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

It was strange how time changed everything and yet nothing all at once. Time changed the seasons and the tides, caring not for whom it affected. It changed the day to night and back again, it changed youth into age. Yes, time changed. It changed and it took.

It took stone and weathered it away. It took the air that the flame of your candle needed to breathe. It took your happy life and turned it into nothing but distant memories, and it took lives, leaving nothing but others to mourn.

Time had taken your father and then your mother, and now you had to dread the day it would take Bradley away from you too. Time was greedy, and it would take and take and take until you stopped it. Time was your greatest enemy.

“Look alive, Guppy.”

You turned to see Jake strutting across the deck, barely catching the movement of his arm as he threw something to your feet. The bundle landed with a dull clang and you glanced down from your spot at the side of the ship where you had been watching the water race past as it sailed in the open waters.

It had been two days since Jake had revealed the curse to you, and you were still coming to terms with what you now knew.

“You have less than a year to break the curse?” You had breathed, eyes growing wider at the blond’s words as they hung in the air between the two of you.

“I can’t break the curse,” Jake responded, leaning against a stack of crates. “I have less than a year to find the treasure.”

“What’s the difference?” You huffed, shooting him a glare. He rolled his eyes, scoffing as he folded his arms over his broad chest.

“The difference,” he all but spat, “is that even if I have the treasure in my hand, the curse won’t lift until Davy Jones gives his seal of approval.”

“But how are you supposed to know that you have it? What happens if you don’t have it?”

“I imagine that’s part of the punishment, Guppy,” he sighed. “I’m left to sail the ocean for seven years looking for a treasure that could quite literally be anything, and I won’t know if I’ve succeeded until the end of those seven years when I meet him back on that beach.”

“And your crew?” You asked, crossing your own arms as you stared at him, fear clutching at your stomach and forming a pit as you thought of your brother. “How does this curse affect them?”

“That depends,” Jake answered, eyes darting to yours for a brief moment before looking away.

“On what?” You pressed, irritation clawing to the surface at his dodginess.

“On how loyal they are to me.”

“What?” You balked, head jerking back at his words.

“The more loyal a man is to me,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he continued to pointedly look away from you, “the more the curse affects them. From the moment a man signs his name over in service to me, the curse will affect him until his time of service is up or until the curse is lifted.”

“But Bradley signed up with less than a year left,” you pointed out, words met with a heavy silence. You stared at the captain in front of you, his face giving nothing away as he stared out over the sea. The realization hit you all at once.

“You knew,” you breathed, a sinking feeling coming to rest in the pit of your stomach. “You knew that he would have to see it through to the end. He would either be free once the curse is lifted or he’d be doomed to sail with you for eternity.”

His eyes met yours then, mossy green swirling with a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t even begin to try and place. No, you were too angry. Angry at the man in front of you for tricking your brother into the possibility of eternal servitude. Angry at your brother for his casual recklessness by signing up for a crew he knew nothing about. Angry at how little time you had to fix all of it.

“You looked at me in that pub, knew how desperate I was for him to not go, and still you let him sign away his life to you,” you seethed, hot, angry tears gathering in your eyes. Jake had the decency to look ashamed by your words, but still you continued. “He’s all I have left, did you even stop to consider that? If something happens to him-”

A sob ripped its way through you, the harsh, ugly sound of your anguish jarring to your ears. Jake’s eyes widened as he watched you, and had you not been feeling like your world was crashing down around you, you might have laughed at the uneasy expression on his handsome features. Sucking in a breath in an attempt to calm yourself, you clutched at your skirt, fingers tensed so hard you feared they might freeze that way.

“If something happens to him,” you croaked, your breaths coming out in shuddering waves as you once again locked eyes with the blond in front of you, malice pouring from you with such vitriol, you saw him physically recoil away from you, “I will have nothing. Do you hear me? I will be all alone in this world, Jake Seresin. Nothing to my name and no one to call home. I will be forced to find some way to provide for myself, knowing that there was nothing I could do to save the only family I had left in this world.”

You took a step away from him, scrubbing furiously at your eyes and cheeks, desperately trying to pull yourself together.

“Guppy.”

Your eyes snapped open, head whipping towards the stairs leading to the galley. Bradley stood at the top step, a pained expression on his face as he watched you. Watched as you came to the realization that your lifeline, him, was slowly disappearing with nothing you could do to stop it. No, that wasn’t true. You just had to find the treasure that Davy Jones deemed worthy, and then this whole nightmare would be over. Jake already had his hands on the Soul of Polaris, which was as good a thing to place your trust in as any.

Sucking in a breath, you shot one last glare to Jake, noticing how he had schooled his features to show no hint of emotion.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Captain?” You snapped, hands clenched back at your sides, venom dripping from every word. He studied you for a second more before shaking his head slowly.

“No,” he murmured, voice thicker than before. “You’re dismissed.”

Without another word, and without sparing another glance at Bradley, you stalked off towards the cabin, feeling both sets of eyes on you as you slammed the door shut behind you.

And now here you were two days later, having not talked to much of anyone save for a few clipped responses. You eyed the bundle distastefully, glancing up to see Jake shrugging off his coat, leaving him in his simple, white shirt and trousers. The top few buttons were undone on his shirt, exposing the broad expanse of his chest to the midday sun, and you tried to ignore the way you could see the hairs of his chest peeking out from behind the fabric. You would certainly never admit to how your mouth watered at the sight.

“What?” You snapped, crossing your arms as you glared at the captain. He smirked at you, green eyes twinkling as he dropped down to peel the sleeve back from the bundle. His hands wrapped around the silver hilt of a sword, the metal gleaming in the sun as he lifted it, weighing it in his hands before handing it over, the hilt side towards you.

A breeze rushed through, rippling the fabric of his shirt and revealing more skin in the process, and you could feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of more of his golden skin on display.

You were snapped out of your trance by the sound of chuckling, glaring up at the blond as he grinned lasciviously at you.

“See something you like?” He asked, a knowing gleam in his eyes as you huffed.

“Something I’d like to run through with this rapier, maybe,” you scowled, grabbing the hilt perhaps a little too forcefully.

Jake chuckled, stepping back and allowing some distance between the two of you. You stared at the sword in your hand dumbly, wondering just what exactly he wanted you to do with it. Your question was soon answered when he settled into a fighting stance, feet planted firmly on the deck while his right hand stretched out, sword pointed at you.

“What are you doing?” You asked dryly, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you looked at the sword in your grasp before glancing back up at him. His smirk remained steadfast as he relaxed back into a normal stance, gesturing at you with quick flicks of the metal in his hand.

“A little birdy told me that you never learned how to use a sword,” he explained, scowling slightly as he repeated the information. “That’s unacceptable from members of my crew.”

“A little birdy told you?” You repeated with a hum, eyes glancing over towards the area of the ship where you last saw Bradley. He was pointedly looking away from you, inspecting the ropes on the side of the ship, his only giveaway being the red at the tips of his ears. Looking back at Jake, you arched a brow.

“Yes, a little birdy,” he affirmed, a face of faux seriousness now stretched across his features. “It amazes me that your father never thought it wise to teach you this skill.”

“Yes, well,” you sneered, “he didn’t think it prudent that I know a great many things, as it would turn out.”

“A shame,” Jake hummed, nodding solemnly. “It’s a good thing that I’m here to rectify the situation. Imagine if word got out that the daughter of the legendary pirate captain Maverick Mitchell couldn’t even use a sword properly.”

“Legendary, huh?” You snorted, rolling your eyes with a wry smile. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Movement around you seemed to stop as the words left your lips, and you glanced around to see several members of the crew giving you odd looks. Your eyes trained back on the blond in front of you as he arched an eyebrow at you.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He hummed, chuckling at your blank expression. He took the few steps across the deck and back towards you, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Your father is one of the most well known pirates to have ever lived. Some who fear him and others who revere him.”

“And where do you stand?” You asked him, cursing how small your voice sounded as you gazed up at him.

“Well,” he smirked, “I wasn’t on the seas long enough to fear him, so I suppose you can count me as one of his admirers.”

“Tell me about him?” You asked before you could remember the fact that you were supposed to be angry with the man in front of you. His smirk turned devilish as he looked you over from top to bottom, teeth catching his bottom lip before humming and backing up once more.

“Practice first,” he declared, shifting back into his fighting stance, arm once again outstretched towards you. “Now copy my stance.”

You eyed him, slowly moving to copy him, hoping that you were doing it right. Jake’s lips pursed as he studied you, the disapproval dashing any hopes that you had managed to copy him correctly. He let out a sigh, dropping out of the stance to walk over towards you. He circled you, stopping at your back, and you waited with bated breath. His hands slowly slid to hold your hips, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin at the unexpected contact.

“Easy, Guppy,” he chuckled, the low sound sending a shiver up your spine and heat to your cheeks.

Slowly, Jake repositioned you, and irritatingly you noticed the difference in balance as he did so.

“You want to angle your hips like this,” he murmured into your ear, his breath fanning in warm waves across your cheek. “Feel the difference?”

Not trusting yourself to speak, you gave a jerky nod, pointedly refusing to turn and meet his eyes.

“Good girl,” he hummed, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You felt him smirk against you as you let out a gasp. His fingertips lingered on your hips for a moment before he moved to reposition your arm. Once he was satisfied, he took his spot in front of you once more.

“How’s about a deal, Guppy?” He asked, brow arching once more as he watched you. “For every hit you land on me, I’ll tell you something about your father.”

“What about when you land a hit on me?” You questioned, frowning lightly. His smirk grew as he readied himself.

“For every hit I land on you,” he drawled, lifting his sword, “I get a minute of your company.”

“That’s ridicul-”

Before you could finish, he lunged, catching you off guard and managing to land a tap at your shoulder. You blustered, staring at him with mouth agape as he smiled at you smugly.

“That doesn’t count!” You cried, glaring at him. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Rule number one of pirateering, Guppy,” he grinned, “always be prepared for the unexpected. That’s one minute of your time for me.”

You scowled at him, lunging forward with your sword, a strike he easily blocked. The clashing of metal rang out across the deck and the crew gathered to watch with growing interest.

“You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want to land a blow,” he mocked, lunging forward once more. You attempted to dodge, veering right clumsily. You let out an indignant squawk as he hit your ass with the broad side of his blade, shooting him a murderous look as he laughed at you.

“That’s two minutes.”

The two of you carried on for about half an hour before you finally asked for a break. Your chest heaved with exertion, limbs and lungs burning for oxygen as you hunched over against your knees. There had been a couple of times where you could have landed a blow, but it had been too risky. The chances you had would have led to serious injury, and you weren’t keen on seriously injuring or maiming your captain just yet. Jake seemed to know what you were doing, as each time you didn’t take the shot, the smile from his face grew smaller and smaller until he was openly glaring at you.

“Again,” he commanded, whipping his blade to his side with a loud thwip as it cut through the air. “And this time act like you want to land a blow.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You snapped, straightening up a little in indignation.

“There were twelve times where you could have landed a blow on me,” he scowled, “and you didn’t. Quit wasting opportunities to strike at me.”

“Apologies, Captain, if I’m not in the mood to take another plunge overboard for maiming you,” you sneered. Jake barked a humorless laugh, a wry smiling curling on his lips.

“Is that what this is about?” He asked, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You think you’re going to hurt me?”

You said nothing, watching him wearily as he took slow, measured steps towards you. You straightened up as he drew near, raising your sword, uncertain if he was going to strike. He paused, glancing down for a brief second before back up at you, something akin to pride sparked in his eyes before flashing back to the ire he now directed at you.

“At least you learned something,” he snickered, drawing closer, and in your uncertainty, you raised your sword higher, trying to put some distance between the two of you. His lips curled dangerously, causing your heart to race for a completely different reason now. He took another step towards you, and you pressed the tip of your sword into his stomach, cursing the small tremor in your hands.

Pausing, Jake once again glanced down at the blade before locking eyes with you. He took another step, the sharp blade piercing his skin and allowing rivulets of scarlet red to run down his golden skin in sharp contrast. You inhaled sharply as he took another step, further impaling himself on the blade. Jake let out a quiet grunt as he took yet another step, eyes never straying from yours as he did so. Finally, he stopped, and you stared with horrified fascination as the stream of blood soaked his shirt and trousers, some dripping onto the wood below him.

“Neither alive, nor dead,” he murmured, something else mixing with the anger now. “I can feel pain, but no harm will come to me while this curse ensnares my soul, Guppy.”

He reached out a hand to brush your face, and it was then that you realized that you were crying. Fingers danced across the apple of your cheek, trailing down to tilt your head back. His thumb rested on the pillow of your bottom lip, stroking slightly.

“You can’t hurt me, Guppy,” he continued, a look of solemnity now on his face as he studied you. “But things can still hurt you, and I’ll be damned if I let you continue on not being able to defend yourself.”

He stepped back, taking the sword with him as it fell from your grasp. With a hiss, he pulled it from his gut, wiping the blade down on his already ruined trousers. He glanced around at the crew, features shifting to one of annoyance before settling on cold.

“Get back to work,” he snapped, and with that the crew scurried to occupy themselves. Jake didn’t spare you another glance before stalking off towards the cabins, the door slamming shut behind him. It was the loud sound that set you in motion, whirling around to once again take purchase by the railing of the ship. You scrubbed furiously at your eyes, making a point to ignore the crew members who walked past you, shooting you sympathetic looks as they prepared to dock for the night. You settled on the railing, curling in on yourself as a figure saddled up next to you, facing the sea as the ship raced toward the shore.

“Guppy,” Bradley sighed, glancing over at you with worry clear on his face.

“What?” You mumbled miserably, refusing to meet his eyes. The two of you stayed in silence for a moment. You, wishing that you could disappear, and Bradley, waiting for you to acknowledge what happened.

“You can’t stay mad at him,” he said finally, looking back out at the water. You shot him a glare at that.

“The hell I can’t.”

“You can’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “Because he’s not the one you’re really mad at.”

“Of course I’m mad at him,” you protested, eyes shifting back to the sea. “None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for him!”

He looked back at you then, a condescending look on his face.

“Guppy,” he chided. You glanced back at him, frowning at the knowing smile on his face. “You and I both know you’re lying.”

You glared at him, pressing your face into your arms where they rested atop your knees.

“Fine,” he sighed, grasping the railing and leaning back, head tilted toward the sky. “You can pretend that he’s the one to blame, but you and I both know that the one you’re really mad at is me.”

“What?” You frowned, sitting up to look at him.

“You’re mad at me for choosing to leave,” he continued, shrugging as if it didn’t bother him. “You feel like you can’t blame me though because you think it’ll push me away and you can’t stand the thought of losing me. So instead, you focus all the anger you have for me on the next best thing, but I’m telling you, he’s not the one to blame here.”

“You want me to be mad at you?” You asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He gave a one sided shrug, peering at you past his nose.

“I want you to be honest with me about how you’re feeling,” he replied. “I want you to be mad at me if that’s what you’re feeling. It was my choice to sign up for the crew. It was my choice to leave. I made choices, Guppy, and you can’t be mad at other people for it.”

You chewed over his words silently, feeling some of the tension slip from your shoulders. Bradley gave you a soft smile, knocking his shoulder against yours.

“Anyway, he’s right,” he added, looking at you seriously. “You need to be able to protect yourself, and that’s why I picked up this at the last port.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small dagger, the hilt a simple brown and the metal shining in the afternoon sun. You took it from him, eyes widening with intrigue as you inspected the gift.

“Come on, kid,” he chuckled, stepping back away from the railing and gesturing for you to follow. “We’ve got work to do.”

The pub was crowded as you sat wedged in between Bradley and Mickey, several different groups singing their own shanties off key. The room smelled of stale beer and old piss, and you inspected the mug in front of you with weary eyes. Wrinkling your nose, you pushed the glass back, eyeing the room around you. Your pub back home would never be this dirty.

“Having fun yet?” Mickey called over the roar of the crowd. You rolled your eyes, giving him a half-hearted scowl as you gestured to the people around you.

“You call this having fun?” You asked him, causing his head to tip back in laughter as his dark curls bounced around his face.

“You get used to finding amusement after years of not being able to get drunk,” he explained, shrugging good-naturedly. “Besides, best to make the most of a rotten situation, right? We all have to be here to show strength as we get new recruits.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” You frowned. “Knowing that those men have no idea what they’re signing up for?”

“Does anyone really know what they’re signing up for?” He countered. “I mean, really, truly know. Sure you have an idea, but anything can happen when you’re out at sea.”

“I suppose that’s true,” you sighed, absentmindedly rubbing at your shoulder, the muscles still sore from your impromptu sword fighting lesson from that morning. Mickey watched you for a moment, concern shining in his eyes.

“You look like you could use some rest,” he murmured, moving to stand and catching Bradley’s attention in the process. “Why don’t I take you back to the ship?”

“You’re leaving?” Bradley asked, studying you for any signs that something might be wrong. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, no,” you said, waving them off. “You two should stay. Wouldn’t want the captain getting angry that I stole two of his men away.”

“Guppy,” Bradley started, a scowl dancing across his face. You put a hand up to stop him.

“I mean it, I’ll be fine. Besides,” you chirped, pulling out the dagger that Bradley had handed you earlier that day, “I have this. If anyone tries to mess with me, I’ll just stick this where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Bradley eyes you wearily, looking like he was going to argue, but stopped when something caught his eye. He pressed his lips together before slowly nodding.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Yeah, okay. Just be careful, alright?”

You gave him one last smile before pushing your way through the crowd and out into the streets.

It wasn’t surprising how quiet all seemed around you given how late it was. The only sounds to be heard coming from the pub and the neighboring brothel. You began your trek back towards the docks, relishing in the cool, night air that blew around you. Humming a tune to yourself, it was a few minutes before you noticed the sound of footsteps behind you. You slowly and carefully reached for the blade at your side, wrapping your fingers around the hilt just as fingers wrapped around your upper arm, twisting you around. You sucked in a breath of air as you moved to stab your assailant in the groin, wincing as they gripped the wrist that held the dagger, pushing you up against the nearest building. You let out a grunt as your back hit the wall, closing your eyes at the sharp pain running up your back.

“Just because you can’t kill me, doesn’t mean that it won’t hurt, sweet girl.”

Your eyes snapped open to lock onto mossy green. Jake stared down at you, an amused smirk on his face as he watched you catch up to what was happening.

“You,” you breathed, brow pinching in confusion.

“Followed you out of the pub to make sure you didn’t get into any trouble, but it took me a minute to catch up with you,” he explained, sounding bored. His hands wrapped around the hilt of the dagger, taking it out of your hand and holding it up to the lamplight. “This is cute, is this new?”

You were suddenly keenly aware of the position you found yourself in. Back pressed against the wall, Jake’s hips pinning you there as he held both of your wrists in one hand, the other still examining the blade.

“Just got it today, Captain,” you huffed, scowling up at the man in question. The corner of his lips twitched as he turned his attention back to you.

“You should be careful about how you throw that word around, pretty girl,” he smirked, twirling the knife before pressing the flat of it to the tip of your nose in a quick tap. “You’d be surprised at the kind of effect it has on a man.”

You gasped as he pressed closer, the hard planes of him settling against you as his breath washed over you. Gazing up at him, you jutted your chin out in a challenge.

“How’s that, Captain?” You pressed. Jake’s smirk grew as he dragged the knife from the tip of your nose, down across your lips and chin, over the swell of your breasts, and stopping at the string that held your shirt together. He dipped the dagger under the string, pulling quickly so that the fabric cut in one, swift motion.

“Hey!” You cried indignantly, glaring at him as he did the same to the next three strands.

“I had to ruin a perfectly good shirt today in order to teach you a lesson,” he drawled, eyeing you with a purse of his lips. “Seems only fair that I get to return the favor.”

“I think this is hardly an equal punishment,” you gritted, squirming against him as a flush of heat rose to your cheeks. Your shirt did little to cover you from any eyes that might see you in that moment, but that was a thought that twitted at the back of your mind. No, you were too focused on the way Jake’s own eyes roamed over you, hunger growing with every swipe over your exposed skin.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he murmured, eyes locking back onto yours. He leaned forward, his lips grazing yours, smirking as he pulled back slightly only for you to chase him. “But, I do have thirty minutes of your company to claim.”

His lips were on yours before you could respond, molding against yours as you moaned at his touch. His free hand dragged up your side before groping your breast through the scraps of your newly destroyed shirt. Squeezing, his tongue dove into your mouth as you gasped into him, practically devouring you whole. You arched into his touch, using your now free hands to run through his surprisingly soft, blond locks and dragging him closer to you. You were barely aware of him tucking the dagger into the band of his pants as he grabbed the back of your thighs, hoisting your legs up and around his waist.

His lips left yours then, hot open-mouthed kisses placed furiously across your jaw and down your neck. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access that he freely used to nip and suck at the skin you offered him.

“So soft,” he breathed, nuzzling your shoulder as his right hand came up to squeeze your breast once again. “Never felt anyone so soft.”

You let out a loud cry as he gave a rather harsh bite to your shoulder, your hands tugging on the strands of his hair in a manner you were sure had to be painful.

“Make the prettiest, little noises, pretty girl,” he hummed, looking up at you long enough to see the devilish smirk that worked its way onto his handsome face. “Don’t even have you around my cock yet, and you already look this fucked out.”

“Jake,” you breathed, gasping as he pressed his hips further into you. You could feel the hard length of him through his trousers and from where your skirt had ridden up.

“You feel what you do to me?” He asked. “You’ve been doing this since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Been thinking about how tight your pussy is going to feel wrapped around me. Been fucking my hand at the very thought of you milking me dry.”

You moaned at his words, rolling your hips into his as you peppered kisses across his face. Jake closed his eyes, seeming to relish in the attention you were bestowing upon him, one hand moving around to grab your ass as the other lavished attention at your nipple. He hauled you against him, grinding you down onto the prominent bulge.

“You like the sound of that?” He murmured, ducking his head back down to your neck, biting a particularly sensitive patch of skin then quickly laving it with his tongue. “Like the sound of me filling you up? Dirty girl, I bet you love the idea that anyone could see us right now. See how you’re falling apart for me even though I’m barely touching you.”

His teeth dug into the juncture of your shoulder and neck, and your cry of pain quickly dissolved into a moan of pleasure. Jake hummed, running his nose up and down the length of your neck.

“My pretty girl likes pain, huh?” He hummed. You were too lost in the sensations of pleasure he was pulling from you to notice his hand letting go of your ass to reach for his trousers. You jumped as the cool sensation of metal once again dragged across the swell of your breasts, your eyes popping open to stare down at where Jake ran the tip of the dagger across your skin. Not hard enough to cut, but enough for you to feel the pressure.

You hissed as he pressed the tip of the blade into the skin of your left breast, the sting quickly giving way to a wave of pleasure as he placed his lips over the cut, his tongue swirling over the skin. Your head hit the wall behind you as you let out a wanton cry of pleasure, feeling Jake smirk against you.

“My dirty girl likes that, huh?” He crooned, tossing the dagger to the ground and using the same hand to wrap in your hair as he forced you to look at him. He ground his bulge into your beating core, moaning at the heat radiating off of you as he crashed his lips to yours.

“Such a good girl for me, Guppy,” he moaned as he pulled away, bringing his right hand up from your breast. His thumb rested on your bottom lip before pushing the tip into your mouth. You suckled at it on instinct, never breaking eye contact as he groaned at the feel of your tongue laving over the digit.

“Fuck,” he hissed, picking up his pace. You let out quiet cries as the coil in your abdomen began to tighten, Fingers falling to his shoulders and leaving angry, red welts in their wake.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rutting into you. “Mark me, sweet girl. Show everyone who I belong to. Wanna wear your marks for days.”

You sucked harder at his thumb as you attempted to meet his thrusts, chest heaving with exertion. Jake saw the look on your face, taking his thumb out of your mouth to push your hair back.

“Come on, Guppy,” he crooned, losing himself in the sensations of you as he chased both of your highs. “Be a good girl for me, yeah? I can see how close you are, can practically feel your pretty little cunt fluttering against me. Can’t wait to be buried balls deep inside of you, feel you squeezing around me. Feel me leaking out of you. I’s okay though, I’d just push it back into you, and then I’d fill you up again and again until you’re swelling with me.”

You moaned at his words, jerking when a particularly hard thrust hit the sensitive nub at the juncture of your thighs, sending you over the edge with a loud cry. Jake thrust against you a few more times before stilling, sinking his teeth into the skin of your neck as he panted his release.

His hands rested on your thighs, smoothing up and down the exposed skin in gentle strokes as the two of you calmed down. Your hands ran through his hair gently, humming your content as you placed soft kisses to his temple.

“I’m sorry.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced down at him, fingers stilling in his hair.

“For what?” You asked. His fingers stilled at your hips, gripping a little tighter as he stayed wrapped in your embrace.

“For all of it,” he whispered, pressing his face tighter to you. “For being an ass. For tricking Bradley into signing. For not saying something sooner about the curse. For being the reason you might be all alone.”

He trailed off near the end, and for a minute, neither of you said anything. Instead, you scratched the back of his head, earning a contented hum that almost sounded like a purr. Sighing, you rested your cheek against the top of his head, holding him closer.

“Bradley made his own choices,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

A/N: I don't think this is my best smut, which is disappointing considering this was supposed to be alley scene 2.0, but alas, it is what it is. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can also find my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator.

Tag List: @goldenseresinretriever @fanficfandomlove @bobgasm @stoptaking-the-good-names @dempy @sky2nd @hookslove1592 @bellaireland1981 @justherebecausesafarisucks @jupitercomet @atarmychick007 @katfanfic @devil-angel-winchester @mamachasesmayhem @sorchathered @blue-aconite @topnerd03 @roger-that-cap @nouis-bum @aworldwideapart @aviatorobsessed @els-marvelvsp @seresinsbrat @maximus890 @na-ta-sh-aa @rosedurin @djs8891 @jakeseresinlover @roosteraloha @fudge13 @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @avengersgirllorianna @senawashere @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @tgmavericklover @cmroczkab @yuckosworld @pinkdaisies1106 @boiolay @kmc1989 @toomanytocountsposts @fudge13 @perfectprettypisces @veyzus @maydayfigment @uniqueobjectcollective @dreamlandcreations @lilylilyyyyyy @acarboni21 @jessicab1991 @tgmreader @allepaula @viximillarumvitarum @topherwrites @hookslove1592 @ofmiramar @floralfloyd @dempy @86laura11 @imamomof8 @gwendalyn2004 @eternalsams

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violet-1atte · 6 months

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Kinktober Day Twenty-One: Tentacles - Minho/Jeongin

Tags: Pirates, sea monsters, dom/sub undertones, top!Minho, bottom!Jeongin, oviposition, belly bulge, come inflation(?), mating, breeding, crying during sex, double penetration CW: Brief description of drowning (no one actually drowns!)

AO3 Link

When Jeongin was a child, his mother had always warned him not to go near the sea. “It’s too dangerous, Jeongin!” she would always say. “There are pirates and thieves and terrible storms and evil sea monsters. I don’t want you to get taken away from me.” Her warnings seemed to do little in changing the course of his life though. It had been years since Jeongin had seen her and he was a faithful member on board the pirate ship Stray Compass, led by the aptly named king of the sea, Bang Chan. Her warning against pirates now seemed only as a foreshadow of Jeongin’s future when he looked back on it.

He had long since stopped being afraid of sea monsters. He was curious about them, sometimes too curious, as Chan often warned him, but at the end of the day he lived in unbelief despite curiosity. Strange things in the water? Hallucinations from sleep deprivation. Huge waves? The storms he had been warned about. The storms were the only things that scared him now. Those were what could really take lives out on the sea.

He had always done his best to heed his mother’s warnings when it came to the sea. They were his captain’s and his crew mates’ warnings as well. But things couldn’t always go the way they were planned.

It was a huge storm and Jeongin was trying to bring down the sails so that the wind wouldn’t tear them or push them over. The rain was pouring down, soaking him to the bone, and the wood was wet. He could hear his crew mates shouting down below but couldn’t make out a word they were saying above the thundering rain and howling wind.

Then, a wave crashed over the ship. It tilted and Jeongin gasped as his foot slipped. And then he was falling. Falling, falling, the wind and rain rushing around him as he plummeted to the raging sea. In that moment all the warnings of his past came back to haunt him and as he screamed for someone to save him, to catch him, he wished he had listened.

The water was sharper than any knife Jeongin had had the misfortune of getting stabbed with. His first instinct was to gasp, but instead of air filling his lungs, water rushed in instead. The waves were too strong for him to find the surface and quickly he realized he was sinking. Sinking deeper into the deep, dark depths of the sea as he thrashed around to find a way back up.

As he felt the strength in his limbs giving out and head going fuzzy, something wrapped around his leg. He barely had any time to register the feeling before something was pushing past his lips and into his mouth. He would have tried to fight it but his body had no fight left. Whatever it was filled Jeongin’s mouth with something sticky and the substance traveled down his throat and into his lungs. The substance coated the insides of his lungs and figured that this was his moment to die, this was how he would end–eaten by one of those sea creatures he had never fully believed in but almost wished were real–then out of nowhere, the burning in his lungs stopped.

He sucked in a sharp breath and instead of feeling like he was breathing in molten lava, his lungs expanded, his head got less fuzzy, and the tingling in his limbs subsided. He was breathing again despite being surrounded by water. He should have been dead.

He didn’t have enough time to think about how he was breathing underwater before whatever had wrapped around his leg and pushed into his mouth wrapped also around his torso and his arms. There were more than two and they suctioned to Jeongin’s skin. He couldn’t pull away even if he tried. Then he began to move and he realized he was being pulled through the water. This thing is trying to kill me. It's going to drag me to the depths and eat me, he thought in a panic. The water rushing around him was almost painful as he was dragged through it at an inhuman speed. The panic that had settled into his bones when he realized he was drowning had returned.

Thankfully, to his great relief and surprise, whatever this thing was, was not dragging him deeper. After what seemed like ages, Jeongin suddenly started to see faint light filling the water. He could make out the outline of the creature now and–was that a man with tentacles?

He didn’t have to ask for long because suddenly he was being tossed up onto shore and he hit the ground with a loud thud. The sand dug into his skin and he groaned and then the burning in his lungs was back. He started coughing and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees as all the water trapped inside him spilled out. “Fuck,” he croaked after the coughing fit left him, his throat burned raw. “What the hell was that…”

His question was answered quickly as he looked up and looked around and his eyes landed on a man–not a man. It was some sort of creature, one that had a human face (arguably the most pretty face Jeongin had ever seen), and a human body–except for the purple color of his arms and legs and the fucking tentacles that protruded from his torso.

Jeongin scrambled back, the sand sticking to his wet skin. “What–what are you?” he asked, voice shaking. The creature tilted his head and began walking towards Jeongin, tentacles raised in the air so they didn’t drag on the ground.

“I’m Minho,” the creature responded and Jeongin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He could speak too? He smiled at Jeongin’s reaction and another shock of fear stabbed Jeongin’s chest when he saw that its teeth were sharp. All of them. “Ah you can understand me! Good, it worked then.”

What fucking worked???

Jeongin realized he said that out loud when the creature made some sort of laugh that probably would have been charming to Jeongin if he weren’t scared out of his mind. “What I gave you to help you breathe under the water. It also allows humans to understand us.”

“Oh…” Realization dawned on Jeongin. “You saved me.”

“I did, yes. I can’t let a perfectly good human just go to waste like that! Especially when I was right there. I’ve been observing you for a long time. Very pretty human.”

Jeongin’s brain short circuited. Perfectly good human? Observing him for a long time…? Pretty?? “Huh–what I’m sorry I–I’m confused. Why–why were you watching me? What…?”

“Oh! You’d be a perfect mate. That’s why,” Minho stated as if it were the most normal statement in the world. “Very pretty, very strong. You have many people to protect you who seem quite loyal. You’d be perfect to care for my babies.”

Jeongin’s mind was reeling. “Babies?” he exclaimed. “I can’t have children, I’m a man! And I just met you! I don’t–what?”

Minho stepped closer and one of his tentacles slithered up Jeongin’s leg. Jeongin shivered and something sparked in his stomach and–wait what the fuck? Another tentacle came to wrap around his waist and he wanted to pull away, he really did. But he didn’t. The creature was ridiculously handsome and there was something alluring about him, but maybe he had put something in whatever substance he’d given him to make him breathe.

“Silly, you wouldn’t be having the children. I’d put my eggs inside you. You’d incubate them for me. And I saved your life, right? I save your life, you become my mate!”

Jeongin wasn’t sure how he had reached that conclusion but he was ready to wake up from this dream. It wasn’t a nightmare, at least not now. Because even though he was highly weirded out and still a little scared, he wasn’t terrified. What had that creature done to him? “I don’t–that’s not how it works. You can’t just–mate someone out of nowhere!” How would that even work? Did he have a weird dick that he would push the eggs into him with? Would he use his tentacles? They’d have to go so deep–oh. Jeongin swallowed and wet his lips. There was no way he was getting hard right now.

Minho pouted and the tentacle wrapped around his waist began to slide underneath his soaked shirt. Another shiver ran through Jeongin’s body and his nipples began to harden. “But it’s not out of nowhere. I told you I’ve been watching you for a long time. I know you’d be perfect! Please? I’ve never been able to find a mate…My eggs always have to die.” He looked so sad suddenly that Jeongin’s heart clenched. Fuck. He swallowed as he looked down at the tentacles going over his body. They felt good. He certainly wasn’t entirely against the whole thing, judging by how his pants were tented with the outline of his cock.

Fuck, this was insane.

“I…I don’t know…” Jeongin trailed off. His mother’s warnings flashed in his head. Beware of sea creatures.

He found he didn’t really want to listen anymore.

“Alright,” he said, swallowing thickly. His chest prickled with fear but another part of him was curious. So curious, like Chan always warned him against. Why were people in his life always giving him warnings? Didn’t they know that only made his desires more intense? “I can be your mate.”

A grin spread across Minho’s face and he licked his lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Another tentacle shot out to join the other one under Jeongin’s shirt and together they both pulled it up. Jeongin lifted his arms as his shirt was tugged off and tossed somewhere on the sand. One of the tentacles traveled up to his chest and a slick substance followed behind it. The tentacle stopped at his chest and then one of the cups on the underside suctioned to his nipple and Jeongin moaned. “Shit!” he gasped, back arching. Minho was still smiling at him and he tilted his head at Jeongin’s reaction.

“Pretty,” he mumbled.

Another pair of tentacles joined together below Jeongin’s waist and began working to get his pants off. How many did he have? They seemed to be very tactile because it didn’t take them long to get his pants all the way off. Jeongin’s cock bobbed up and slapped against his stomach and Minho licked his lips as he looked down at it curiously. “Hmm yours looks different…pretty.” Jeongin didn’t have time to question what he met because then one of his tentacles was wrapping around his cock. Jeongin let out a strangled moan.

“Ohhh my gods,” Jeongin exclaimed, eyes squeezing shut. The tentacle was slick and wet and sticky and unlike anything Jeongin had ever felt. His entire body felt like a live wire ready to combust. More tentacles made their way over Jeongin’s body, crawling up his sides, suctioning to his thighs, playing with his nipples, wrapping around his throat to prod at his mouth. There were so many sensations it was overwhelming and Jeongin felt like he was going to pass out.

One of Minho’s tentacles made its way up Jeongin’s inner thigh, a trail of purple slick left behind. Then the tip began to prod at his hole and his mouth fell open. At the same time, the tentacle that had been at his mouth shoved its way in and Jeongin’s eyes rolled back. It tasted salty like the ocean but there was also a hint of sweetness that made it intoxicating. He realized he’d tasted it when he’d been under the water.

The tentacle at his hole swirled around it for a second before it began to push inside of him. Jeongin let out a muffled whine around the tentacle in his mouth and spread his legs. The tip of the tentacle was no bigger than two fingers but as it pushed in it got bigger and bigger. Jeongin choked and dug his fingers into the sand.

“I was worried you wouldn’t take me,” Minho said as he pushed his tentacle deeper. Jeongin’s vision went blurry as his hole stretched around the intrusion. “But you’re doing so well.”

The tentacle pushed deeper, deeper, until it brushed against Jeongin’s prostate and he made a guttural sound around the tentacle in his mouth. It continued moving even past that until when Jeongin looked down he could see a slight bulge on his stomach. His head fell back and he took deep breaths in through his nose.

Minho’s eyes locked on the bulge in his tummy and removed the tentacle from his mouth. Jeongin gasped, moans flowing freely as he began to pump the tentacle in and out of him. “So small,” Minho mused. He reached out with his hand and pet over the bump on Jeongin’s stomach. “Gonna look so pretty when I fill you up.”

“Nghhh shit, oh fuck,” Jeongin moaned. Minho was so deep, practically in his stomach. He didn’t even know why he had been against this initially. Any rational thought had left his mind. He just wanted to be filled. Wanted to see his stomach expand as Minho fucked his tentacles into him and filled him with his eggs.

“Such a pretty human,” Minho mumbled. “Truly perfect…” Another tentacle moved to press against his rim and Jeongin gasped, eyes going wide.

“That’s not–that’s not going to fit,” he whimpered, but Minho continued pushing anyway.

“It will fit. I promise,” he reassured. The tip of that tentacle slid past his rim and the stretch burned. Jeongin choked on a moan and his eyes stung with tears. The pain quickly mixed with pleasure so intense Jeongin felt like he was going to fall apart. Minho was very surely breaking him. There was no way he could live normally after this.

It wasn’t long before Jeongin could see the imprint of both tentacles in his stomach. He reached out with a shaky hand and pressed down, felt them move under his palm. “S-so full,” he groaned. He had never been this full in his life.

“You’re going to be fuller soon,” Minho said with an amused grin. Jeongin’s eyes rolled back as Minho began to fuck both tentacles into him, while at the same time he explored Jeongin’s body with the rest of his tentacles. There were marks sucked all over his skin from the suckers on Minho’s tentacles and there were tentacles wrapped around his thighs, his arms, his waist, all holding him in place. His whole body tingled and his stomach burned hot with arousal like he’d never felt. It was so much, so so much.

Without a warning his body spasmed and he orgasmed, his cock twitching weakly as ropes of cum shot over his body. Minho wrapped a tentacle around his cock as he came and Jeongin’s hips jerked away from the overstimulation. The tentacle squeezed, practically milking him through it. “Mm-Minho 's too much,” he hiccuped. At some point the tears had started running freely down his face. Oh gods…

“Shh, pretty human, doing so well. Just gotta get you nice and open to take my eggs,” he mumbled. Jeongin wanted to whine, to cry out that he already was open! Minho was splitting him in two, he was stretched beyond belief. But Minho didn’t wait much longer after that, and all the sudden his tentacles were slithering back out. Jeongin whined pathetically at the loss and his gaping hole clenched around nothing.

“Please…” he whimpered, unsure what he was even asking for. Slick from Minho’s tentacles ran out of his hole and coated his thighs, leaving Jeongin feeling wet and dirty. He’d never particularly liked that feeling but now it was heaven.

“You’ll be a good little thing and take my eggs right?” Minho said, one of the tentacles around Jeongin’s thigh tightening. He nodded his head, too dumb to form a proper response. “Good.”

Jeongin looked down through hooded eyes and his breath hitched at the tentacle that wrapped around Minho’s front. This one was different from the others–wider and shorter, and covered bumped where the other tentacles had been smooth. It registered to Jeongin that this must have been his ovipositor and he was about to be filled with Minho’s eggs. This thought should’ve led to panic, should have led to the initial feelings of apprehension he had. But in the moment he wanted nothing more than what was about to happen.

The tentacles on his thighs spread his legs wider and the tip of the ovipositor slipped past Jeongin’s rim. It was already as big as the two tentacles combined and as it went deeper he felt like the wind got knocked out of them. Minho’s eyebrows were furrowed together and he was biting his lip as he pushed in, the stimulation clearly pleasurable for him as well. Jeongin could hear his heavy breaths and that only made the fire in Jeongin’s stomach burn hotter.

“Fu-uckk,” Jeongin choked, digging his hands deeper into the sand. “S-so–so bi-igg.” He was sure this one would tear him in two. There was no way it could fit. He could feel the bumps from the eggs rubbing along his walls, rubbing against his sensitive prostate, stretching him further. The rest of Minho’s tentacles worked to touch him elsewhere–one jerked his weeping cock while another two played with his nipples. It was mind-numbing. “I can’t, I can’t, it’s too m-much hnngg…” At this point he was practically sobbing, his words coming out more like choked gasps and moans.

Minho smirked and there was a small amount of blood on his lips from where he had bitten them hard. “You can. It’s already in. Look at how your tiny little stomach is full.” He pressed down on Jeongin’s abdomen and his whole body jerked.

“Sh-shit, oh fuck!,” he gasped.

“So pretty,” Minho hummed. He grinned, flashing his sharp teeth and leaned forward to grab Jeongin’s hips. “I’m going to start filling you now.”

Jeongin was too dazed to process what he was saying, but he didn’t need to. He felt it the second it started, the way Minho’s tentacles tightened around his limbs and suctioned to him, and oh, the way his insides felt as Minho began pumping him full. It felt like cum at first, hot and wet, but then the eggs started moving. They spilled inside of him and Jeongin felt them moving along his walls. They stretched his stomach and he watched as Minho literally filled him up. He felt like the breath had been sucked from his lungs and all he could do was moan helplessly.

When Minho deposited the last egg inside him, a large spurt of hot liquid filled his insides alongside and drool ran down Jeongin’s chin. Minho made little groans that were like music to Jeongin’s ears as he finished inside of him and filled his stomach with warmth alongside the warmth of being so full. “There,” Minho mumbled finally, his voice a bit rough. He ran his hand over Jeongin’s stomach and smiled. “Nice and full of my babies now.”

Jeongin looked down at himself and ran his hands over top. “Oh my gods,” he breathed, wetting his lips. “I look–I look–”

“Bred. Mated. My mate,” Minho said happily, a proud smile resting on his face.

Jeongin nodded. He couldn’t believe this had happened. He had mated a sea monster. He knew his life was full of surprises but nothing could have prepared him for this. “Stay away from the sea,” his mother had said. Pirates and thieves, storms, and sea creatures. Every warning disobeyed. Jeongin silently sent a prayer of apology upwards.

“Wh-what–” Jeongin croaked, shocked by how raw his voice sounded. “What do I do now?”

“You stay safe. Take care of yourself,” Minho said, running his hands and his tentacles over the bump of Jeongin’s belly. “Then when the time comes, you’ll push the eggs out and they will hatch. And be our babies.” Minho chirped as he touched his tummy and Jeongin was struck with how cute the happy little sound was.

“Okay…but what about my crew? How do I get back to them?”

“I will bring them to you,” Minho reassured him. “Only you promise they won’t look for me. Or hurt me. Or you.” He frowned deeply. “Humans can be scary.”

Jeongin sighed softly and nodded. He knew that fact well. “Alright, you’ll be safe. They wouldn’t hurt you anyway. Just make sure I get back to them.”

Minho nodded and smiled, showing his fangs again. A little shiver ran down Jeongin’s spine. “Don’t worry. I will. But first, pretty human needs shelter.”

“Jeongin,” he said quickly. “My name’s Jeongin.”

Minho’s smile grew. “Okay. Jeongin needs shelter. Come with me.” So Jeongin gathered his clothes off the ground and dusted the sand off of himself. It felt strange to stand in this state and he was sore and exhausted. And after taking one glance at him, Minho grabbed him with the combined strength of his arms and tentacles and picked him up, carrying him to wherever the best place for shelter would be.

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daddyy333 · 6 months

Text

Say something | Neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.8k

warnings: reader is shot, blood, reader hides her injury, reader almost dies, ?

summary: You are shot while fighting the RDA, but you don’t want to ruin the clan’s celebration. That doesn’t end up going to well for you

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

You hissed at the soldier in front of you, jumping onto him and ending his life quickly with two stabs to the chest. Your tail flung wildly, anger and adrenaline pumping through you. How dare these vrrtep try to take away your home? Try to ruin Eywa’s gifts to the people.

You frowned as you looked around you, gasping as you noticed another helicopter flying in. Your pressed your microphone, panting harshly as you said “Ma ‘Teyam! Another tawsíp is inbound!” Neteyam growled and said “I read you, my love. Get out of there, I’ll take care of it”

“No. I do it” you said, calling your ikran. You grabbed a gun and jumped onto her quickly flying under the helicopter. You let out a war cry as you flipped your ikran upside down and shot the entire underside of the ship as you flew under, flipping your ikran back upright with a growl and shooting behind you one handed at the vrrtep driving the tawsíp.

You called out a war cry and broke the bond between you and your ikran, pushing off of her and landing on your feet into a circle of soldiers. You hissed at the demons all around you, grabbing two of them by their necks and banging their heads into each other, flinging one into another and stabbing the other in your hand.

You shot the rest with your bow and arrows and then Neteyam caught up to you. “God I love it when you protect the people” he said and kissed your head, pulling it into his chest. You growled slightly, a sharp pain in your stomach aking you wince. Your ears twitching at the sounds of metal clinking against metal.

“Don’t worry, ma yawne. You took down the last of them. Now come, let’s get you home, mighty warrior” he said and lifted your head from his chest. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you, calling his ikran. You called yours and jumped on, whimpering.

“Let’s get home, Kxamtxon” you said and sighed, resting against her. You grunted and looked down at your stomach, gasping when you realized you’d been shot. The bullet was keeping a lot of the blood in.

“No, no no shit!” You groaned, looking down away and hissing as even breathing began to hurt. You whimpered and mumbled “faysawtute!” You pulled a cloth from your bag and put pressure on it, trying to take deep breaths. You rode slowly and you almost flew into several things, the pain starting to catch up to you.

You don’t even remember being shot, and that only deepens your hatred for the sky people. You urged Kxamtxon to go faster, your head was throbbing and you felt a little dizzy. You got there a little while after Neteyam, you just decided to tie your loincloth tighter and try to deal with it later. It didn’t go through, so you’d have to take it out yourself and sew it up.

“Beautiful! Come here, come here, baby!” Neteyam said and scooped you up, jumping around as the clan danced and cheered, ikrans flying above and little children running around with joy. This was a really successful mission, the hunting party really did some damage to the RDA’s machines and their soldiers and so of course the clan was celebrating.

Beats were being played and some of the singers of the clan were vocalizing as the danced around with the children and the elders. “I’m so proud of you, y/n. You protect your people so well, Tsahík. Not to mention you look so hot doing it” he said as he set you down hugging you from behind.

You chuckled softly, trying to catch your breath and play it off like you weren’t in a ton of pain. He pressed on your wound on accident and you yelped, nearly falling to your knees because of how dizzy you were and how much the pain was getting to you. “Woah, y/n. What is wrong?” He said and you shook your head.

You groaned and said “Nete…my stomach” You fully fell to the ground, beginning to cough up blood. Neytiri screamed in horror, running over to you. “Sweet child, what is it?” She said, cupping your cheeks. You looked up at her with teary eyes and shook your head once again.

“Y/n, what is it?” He said as he scooped you up in his arms. “I’ve been…s-shot” you groaned, grabbing your stomach. You winced and he said “why didn’t you say something?! She’s shot, sa’nu” He kissed your cheek, tears streaming down his face.

“Tsahík is shot!” She called, and immediately the men took your from Neteyams arms and began to carry you to a healing hut, the best healers in the clan following closely behind. Neteyam was breathing so heavily, truly panicking. He had no idea you were injured, he really thought you were fine. How did he not notice?

He growled, wanting to do more damage than the clan already managed. Jake ran over to him and said “son, you have to calm down. I know you’re angry, but you just have to stay calm. Let’s go say a prayer to Eywa, yea?”

Neteyam, Jake, Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk all went to the Tree of Souls to pray to Eywa for your recovery and survival. He was truly scared, his entire body shaking. He couldn’t calm himself down, his heart pounding in his chest.

He abruptly stood up, taking his kuru from the tree and said “I have to see her” Before Jake could try to stop him, he was gone. Damn him, of course he had the fastest kid in the clan.

As soon as he got to the hut he could hear you screaming and sobbing in pain and it broke his heart. He gently opened the flap and two of the men were holding you down as Mo’at tried to remove the bullet and Kiri and Neytiri tried to soothe you.

“Sa’nu what is happening?” He whimpered, he’d never been more scared in his life. She sniffled and said “she threw up everything we tried to give her to take away the pain, but we have to get the bullet out. We have no choice”

He bent down next to you, cupping your cheek. “Deep breaths, my love, deep breaths” he said, his hand shaking as he brushed your hair out of your sweaty face. You sobbed as you said “‘T-Teyam! Make it- make it stop!”

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I can’t. We have to do this so we can save you, baby,” he said, tears spilling from his eyes. You wheezed slightly, trying to keep your eyes open. You whimpered as you blindly reached for some of the clean cloth.

“T-Take it out. Whatever y-you do, do- do not stop…u-until you take it ah- out” you said, stuffing the cloth in your mouth and grabbing onto Kiri and Neteyam. Mo’at sighed and said “okay…Sevä, Tuxt’ele, hold her tight, do not let her move”

You screamed bloody murder as she finally got it out, you couldn’t even move with the tight grip the men kept on you. Neteyam looked away, sobs racking through his body. You struggled to keep your eyes open once it was out, your breaths shallow and and your whole body shaking. Your face was pale and your lips were beginning to look purple.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths, y/n. Why don’t you try to drink something” he said and you whimpered. You looked up at him, you could see he was terrified. You nodded and Neytiri tilted a bowl of the healing tea you had been making for the clan for years toward you, helping you take a few sips.

Neteyam closed his eyes, whispering a prayer to Eywa and Neytiri quickly joined. Kiri joined, then the men keeping you still, and then Mo’at did, only trying to stop the bleeding now. You did too, whispering it softly with the rest of them.

Neteyam pressed his forehead to yours, praying over you for good luck. “I’m sorry, Nete” you said and he scoffed. He kissed your head and said “you have nothing to be sorry for. Those damn demons are the ones who should be sorry. And they’re going to pay, my love, believe me”

You reached towards him, grunting at the pain it caused. Sevä moved from behind you so Neteyam could hold you like you wanted and you held onto his arm tightly, trying to keep your eyes open.

When you were finally stitched up and it seemed as though you were going to heal just fine, Neteyam had never felt so relieved in his life. He refused to move from behind you, stroking your hair as you slept, watching your breaths, making sure the blanket was keeping you warm since you complained about being cold earlier and couldn’t stop shaking for a while. You didn’t know if it was the pain or the fact that you were so cold from blood loss.

You twitched and mumbled things in your sleep, mostly his name and a few other things which made him blush. He felt so happy to have you here in his arms. He couldn’t stop thanking Eywa.

The next morning, he beamed as he watched you slowly walk your way out to the center of hometree, greeting the children and teenagers and healers that were worried for you. “Tsahík, we gathered this for you!” One of them said, holding up a basket of healing herbs that would help with the pain and couldn’t be made into a paste to heal the skin better.

“Oh thank you, sweet children. May Eywa send beautiful blessings your way” you said, bending over to kiss their heads. “Be careful, yawne. You are still so fragile” he said, holding your hips. The children giggled, even they knew how grossly in love Olo’eyktan is with the Tsahík.

You swiftly smacked his arm away and that made them giggle even more. He smiled at you, shaking his head. You were so independent, always trying to prove you didn’t need his help or be taken care of. All he wanted to do was take care of you.

Tuk ran over and hugged your leg tight, looking up at you. “I was so scared” Tuk said and you cooed at her. You smoothed her hair back and said “aww, don’t you worry Tuk-Tuk. It’s gonna take more than some stupid tawtute bullet to kill me, I promise you that” She smiled and Neteyam scooped her up swiftly and plopped her on his shoulders.

She squealed, Neteyam was considerably tall and she could practically see the whole clan from this height. “Put her down, Nete. You know she doesn’t like that” you softly scolded and he rolled his eyes.

He put her down and wrapped his arm around your waist. “Come on, let’s visit some of the families and get you some food. You need lots of rest, you’re lucky I let you outside today” he said and you sighed. You held onto his arm and said “it wasn’t even that deep. I’ll be fine by the end of the week”

“Oh, sure you will,” he said and you giggled. He kissed your head and chuckled. Little did you know you’d have to beg on your knees to even hunt for food a month later when the wound is already plenty healed, but Neteyams protective ass won’t care.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @neteyam4life

@bakugouswaif @abcm18339

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

Chris Sturniolo

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#avatar #avatar 2 movie #james cameron avatar #avatar fic #neteyam #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam imagine #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam fluff #neteyam angst

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doublesunsets · 7 months

Text

fill me with your echo

Echo x Reader PWP/Smut 🔞 Word count: 3.1k

TBBAW 2023 @tbb-appreciation-week

DAY 2: Echo NSFW Prompt "Aroused by their voice"

Author's note: Is this late? Yes. But it was still inspired by that prompt, so credit is due. Please, accept my humble story. I wanted to try something, and it got... complicated (for me). I had never written dirty talk before, but I think I managed to get it where I wanted. -sunset

Ao3 Link

tags/warnings under read more

dividers by @saradika

Warnings: Masturbation / Guided Masturbation / Dirty talk / Voice Kink, /Praise Kink (slightly) / Comm Sex / No specific pronouns are used, but reader has a vagina / Basically, PWP, I am not interested in the logistics of comm sex, this is very indulgent. Echo is not a blushing virgin, and I'm here to prove it.

“412 traffic, F-17, inbound for landing.”

The voice crackled through the communication system in your small office, and you jumped from your seat before Wina could get to it.

“Here 412 traffic, landing pad is clear,” you breathed out in your smoothest voice possible, while Wina tried to take away the mic from you. You were not scared about using a little bit of violence when necessary, so you smashed your hand on her face to keep her away. You were scared of stabbing your fingers with her Zabrak horns, though, and probably stop it and give me the mic filtered through the waves.

“Wonderful,” the voice on the radio answered, and you were able to discern the smile that would be probably accompanying the word. You melted a little, as usual.

With a little trepidation, you tried to calm your heart and prepared yourself to make the conversation as long as possible. You even pretended to be confident enough to use the name you have learned from your interactions.

“How is everything, Echo? Any problems? Do you need me to send some droids there to fix the ship?”

“No, no, we had no trouble out there, don’t worry. You are always so thoughtful, thank you, Fourtwelve.”

“My pleasure, Echo.” Seeing that you were not budging, Wina finally gave up and moved away. She shouldn’t even be in your office, in the first place, she was just nosey. You turned your whole body towards the comm, triumphantly. “You sure you don’t want— I mean, any of you need something else? I could come down there and take you some rations.”

You grimaced inwardly at the hint of desperation in your voice. When the signal came back, a hint of a chuckle could be heard in the background, and you felt your cheeks grow hot.

“Shh, I said!— Uh, I don't, no, no, really. You are an angel, but there’s no need for that.” Someone shouted coward in the background. “But I appreciate it, really, I do. Thank you, Fourtwelve. Over.”

The static felt like a slap in the face. You slumped into the chair and let out a heavy sigh. It has been the shortest conversation since the first one, and the disappointment sat heavy on your chest.

“I wanted to talk to some men, and you had to ruin it. You get strangely overprotective with that clone.”

You turned your chair to face the intruder in the room and frowned at her. “This is my job, if you want to talk with men, go to a bar. Besides, I’m not overprotective about anyone! It’s just that the last time you handled the comms, you made such a lascivious pun that I still have second hand embarrassment every time I think about it.”

“Pft, whatever. You need to relax, this is not even a real job. You don’t know how to have fun, I’ll entertain myself somewhere else.”

You didn’t make any more comments as Wina turned around and left the room. She was extremely annoying, in a rage you stood up and locked the door in case she decided to come back. You were more at ease by yourself, which, even if sounded hypocritical, usually allowed you to talk with some men. A man in particular, actually. But Echo had already commed, he would probably be on his way to a canteen with his brothers, and you didn’t have the chance to speak with him this time.

Echo. You were still giddy at actually knowing his name. It had all started a month or so ago. You were a volunteer in a group that was trying to give clones a chance after they were discarded by the newly founded Empire. It started as something simple, but as time passed, and the Empire started showing their true face, the operation became quite daring and secretive. It was almost like one of those holonovels, about rebels, and freedom fighters on the frontiers, fighting evil by day and having torrid romances by night. In reality, though, your job was pretty dull. You were basically a receptionist; you took messages, managed the landings of your allotted small Coruscant hangar, and occasionally dispatched droids if they were needed. Someone had to do it, though.

One uneventful night, a new voice came over your comms. Well. Not new-new. You had heard that same voice thousands of times, but this one had something that made it stand over the others. It was huskier, angrier. It made you wonder what his owner had witnessed to be so angry at the galaxy, but at the same time speak such soft words to you. You had timidly inquired him and Echo had actually told you some stories from his past, a short version at least, you had no doubt there was more to it. He had told you about his lost brothers and being the last one of his batch, about being imprisoned and then rescued by new brothers, and even how he had adapted to being a cyborg.

He also asked about you, if out of politeness or legit interest, you didn’t know, so you had told him the basics, very, very quickly. You preferred when it was him doing the talking. You were in awe at what he had lived through, but to your shame, you couldn’t help the other reaction you had at his stories. Truth was that he could have read you the Communication System Manual, and it would have turned you on all the same. His voice was like spice to you, the more you listen to it, the more you wanted. You had never tried one, but you had to guess this was what trying on aphrodisiacs felt like. You craved it, you wanted to have it whispered in your ear late at night, his naked skin on yours, and his hand exploring your body, while those angry tones melted away into sweet moans.

The static did scare you this time, and you took away your traitorous wandering hand from your thigh. Not the time to indulge in wildly inappropriate fantasies, not that it would be the first time. Since nothing else seemed to come from the other side, you tried to contact them.

“Here 412 traffic, do you copy?”

Static again. Whoever was on the other side didn’t seem to find their words.

You were about to tell them to find another pastime and leave your channel alone, when his voice cracked again through the speakers.

“Hey, Fourtwelve.”

“Echo,” you gasped, and thanked the Force that you had released the button, saving you the embarrassment of Echo hearing his name coming out of your lips like that. You cleared your throat, pressed it again, and tried to appear nonchalant. “Echo, good to hear from you again so soon.” Yes, nailed it. “Is there any problem?”

“No problem at all. I—” he hesitated and you waited patiently. If while waiting patiently you bounced your leg rapidly, he didn’t need to know. “I just wanted to talk with you, but you seemed busy earlier, and there was many people around here as well. Is it now a better time?”

“Yes!” His chuckle should have made you feel embarrassed, but it only fuelled your thoughts. If his rough voice was sexy, his low laugh was damn near Dark Side inducing.

“Good, I am glad. I really appreciate our chats.”

“Me too, I love your voice.” In your excitement, it took you a moment to register what you had said, but his silence at the other side gave you plenty of time. When your brain caught up, your face burned, and you started to ramble, trying to cover up your slip. “I mean, I love your stories, the ones you tell me, with your voice, so that’s what I meant. Because that’s what I hear, so, I cannot listen to the stories without your voice, obviously. So, I really love that you have… a voice with—”

“Stop,” you gulped down the rest of the sentence and clamped your legs by instinct. His tone of voice had been gentle but authoritative, as someone used to scold a child. But you weren’t a child, you were very much an adult, that was having a strong reaction to a man’s voice through a comm. “Good, mesh’la.”

A very strong reaction.

You were sure he could hear your deep breathing, but he chuckled again and couldn’t find in you the will to care. “I’ve been dying for you to say something like that for a while, so you are not taking it back now. Please, tell me, what do you love about my voice?”

It didn’t escape to you that he had made his voice deeper, rougher. He was enjoying this. It was true that you had been flirting with him, but not even in your wildest dreams you had envisioned him actually responding this way. For all that you knew, he hadn’t been paying attention to it. He apparently had, and had been waiting, no, dying, for you to take the next step. You were aware that this conversation could change the nature of your interactions forever, and you were going to seize it like a bounty hunter with their price.

“I love how deep it is.” Maybe not your best line.

“You can do better than that,” he encouraged you, not unkindly.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, your fingers clawing at your thighs, trying to control the pent-up energy that was growing inside you. “It is gruff, but caring, I don’t understand how.” You readjusted yourself on your seat, almost vibrating out of your skin. “It is hypnotic, mesmerising. Sexy.”

Echo hummed at that, and it spurred you on. You wanted to hear that again, you needed to hear every single noise that voice could give you.

“Every time I hear your voice, it is like you're grabbing me by the nape, firm but softly, and forcing me to listen to it. I can’t move, I’m captivated. It gets inside my chest and drives me crazy, makes me feel alive. It makes me want to go to my knees. It makes me want to behave and to be mischievous at the same time.”

“Fuck,” Echo groaned at the other side.

Your breath was heavy and laboured, you felt hot, and even if you were alone in the room, you could feel the weight of his presence. You weren’t sure what possessed you, but it seemed he liked it.

“All that… from just my voice?” It seemed he liked it very much. His voice has turned into a husky drawl, and you whimpered a little. “What else? What else do I do to you? Tell me, cyar’ika.”

There was a pretty obvious consequence of his voice, the dampness of your underwear a cold reminder right now. You pressed your hand into your core, trying to soothe your growing need, and another pitiful whine escaped you.

“What was that, cyar’ika? What are you doing right now?” His words were soft, whispered, but they were commanding, there was no ignoring them.

“I’m—“ you pressed harder the heel of your hand against your clit, the simple act of telling him out loud what you were doing was sending shivers down your spine. “I’m touching, ah, myself.”

“How? Tell me,” he snarled, like gravel on his throat.

“I’m pressing my hand against me, rubbing it a little,” you gasped at the end, involuntarily.

“You are going to do something for me.” He sounded breathy, almost like he was talking too close to the comm. His voice was just a rustle, but for you, it was deafening. You uttered a breathless yes, and he continued. “You are going to touch yourself, and I’m going to tell you how to do it, understood?”

You opened your eyes at that and inhaled loudly, feeling your cunt palpitate at his words. There was only one answer to that. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, Maker,” he groaned, and then laughed softly, the smirk evident on his voice. “Aren’t we discovering kinks today?”

You laughed as well, a little more breathless than him. Sat back and widened your legs, waiting for him to continue.

“Listen to me, cyar’ika. Take your hand, and get it inside your clothes. Slowly, there is no rush.”

You stopped for a moment, your hand hovering over your groin, and thought about what you were going to do. In reality, you barely knew him, you had never seen him in person actually! And yet, since the beginning, there’s been this connection, not only were you aroused by their voice, but there was something else pulling you to him. If you believed in such things, you could be tempted to call it predestination. You were going to start by calling it a fun time. You took a deep breath and obeyed him.

“What else? Tell me, Echo,” you threw back at him in a pleased murmur, adding some more since he seemed to like it. “Please, tell me what to do, sir.”

“Oh, you naughty thing. Maker, you are going to be so good, don’t you? But first, reach with your fingers to your pussy, don’t really touch it yet, just feel it and answer me, are you wet?”

There was a determination in his voice, Echo was a man with a plan, and he intended to execute it, and since that plan seemed to be your pleasure, you could not complain. You did as he instructed, even if you didn’t need it to know how drenched you actually were already. Every word that came through the comm, every gasp, and growl, breath and rustle, was making you whimper at the back of your throat without even touching you. You did that again for him, you whimpered, low and long, feeling your own wetness slide through your fingertips.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he purred in a soft exhalation. “Slowly, I want you to put your finger down and circle it around your entrance. Yes, like that, I can hear your breath hitching, with just so little. You must be pretty sensitive, or is it just for me? Do you love my voice so much that it has you all worked up before we have even started? Keep circling it, mesh’la, keep gathering and spreading those sweet juices. They must taste so good. I wish I could be kneeling in front of you right now to taste it myself. Oh? Would you like that? That was a pretty filthy moan, I want to hear more of those.

“Now, cyar’ika, move your finger down onto your clit, drag it softly through it. Very softly, treat it like the precious thing it is. You sound glorious, you are being magnificent and oh, so obedient. Now press harder, back and forth, drag it back and forth harder. Faster, now. You must look splendid, I bet that pretty mouth of yours has a fantastic shape right now. Perfect for me. That’s enough, stop.”

You whined pathetically, but complied. A needy sound escaped your throat as your fingers twitched, right above where you needed them, and Echo made soothing noises peppered with praises that had you dangerously close to losing it. His voice had turned huskier and breathier in reaction to your moans, but he still sounded quite composed, unlike you.

“Echo, please,” a hoarse plea.

“Is Echo again, hmm? What happened with ‘sir’, I liked that one. But I have to admit that hearing my name on your lips, begging for me to keep talking is making me lose control a little, cyar’ika, and that doesn’t happen often, I can guarantee you that.

“Guide your hand down again, and stop at your entrance, is it there where you need them? Yes, I thought so. Now, easy, just one finger, sink it in. Maker, it must be so warm and soft. Out and inside again, like that. Easy, mesh’la, was that a pleased sob? You are being so good. I think you deserve another finger. Fuck, that one was good. Oh, what I would do if I was there right now, I bet you would enjoy my thick fingers up your cunt better than yours. I would fuck you with them until you were screaming my name. Faster now, yes, faster. I can almost hear the squelching noises every time you pull them out. Can you feel yourself clenching around them? Go on, feel it for me.

“Those shuddering moans are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Do you know how hard I am right now? It’s almost painful, I’m hard and hot just for you, just for those sweet little cries. I know you are almost there, your panting is getting faster. Hush, don’t worry, I have you, you have all my attention. I’m not even touching myself, so if you give me one good enough, I will go up there to your office and fuck you hard against your desk as a reward.

“Do me a favour, mesh’la, stroke your clit with your thumb. Now. Good, ner cyar’ika.”

You came with a strangled moan, your orgasm wreaking havoc through your body, legs cramping over your hand with your fingers still inside you. When you came down from it, soft sobs fell uncontrollably from your lips, and you touched your clammy forehead with your shaky hand, trying to recover control of yourself. The sudden silence at the other side made you recover quicker.

“Echo? Are you still there?”

“Yes, cyar’ika, I’m still with you, I haven’t gone anywhere,” he sounded restrained, but there was a painful edge to his voice that told you it was forced.

“Was it— was it a good one?” You asked him shyly, still trying to get your breath under control.

“A good… Oh. Stars, cyar’ika.” Echo groaned and cursed under his breath, but his next words were softly spoken, a touch of concern in them. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, please, come here,” you said, more determined this time. You stood up and unlocked the door, but an accidental glance made you stop at your reflection in one of the panels. “Oh, wow, I look like a mess. First, I’ll need some time to fix myself.”

“Don’t even bother, ner cyar’ika, I’m planning on making a bigger mess of you. Over, Fourtwelve.”

The static at disconnecting the channel drowned your drawn-out moan, and you plumped down on your seat. It seemed that in this one, the receptionist managed to find a torrid romance for themselves at the end.

You couldn’t wait for your reward.

TagList! Let me know if you want to be added/removed, please

@motte-the-goblin @fenharel-enaste @nahoney22 @stunkbiggu @gt13tbbart @dangraccoon

#tbbaw2023 #tbb echo #x reader #tbb echo x reader #echo smut #smut #star wars smut #sunset writes

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glassartpeasants · 2 months

Text

Run Rabbit Run .07

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, reader having vivid nightmares, reader having a crisis, Kid being the insane fuck he is, Tashigi and G-5 being real ones, little happy moments???

A/N: I will defend all of G-5 will my DYING breath. Only Marines that I don't hate

tags: @rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @sydneyyyya

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9

~~~

You pace back and forth in the infirmary. The sound of your shoes hitting the floor was nothing compared to your speeding heartbeat. Nothing like this happened at all when you were with Kid. So why now that you’ve escaped, has it shown up? Why did this have to happen?

Biting your knuckles, you try to ignore the agonizing feeling in your gut. The universe obviously wasn’t done screwing with you if what you feared was true. Not to mention how it’d affect everything good going on in your life.

“Take a deep breath and sit down, okay? Stressing isn’t gonna help.”

“How can I not stress?! What if it’s exactly what we think it is? What if I really am…”

“Pregnant?” Tashigi’s voice cuts into your skin as soon as the word leaves her throat. It felt like a fresh stab to your heart. Hearing the word out loud only made the fear all the more real and strong.

“I can’t even hear the word without being nauseous.” Taking a seat next to Tashigi on the infirmary bed, you put your head in your hands.

“What am I supposed to do? I still have four months to get to Sabaody. Not to mention, I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my promise to you and Vice Admiral Smoker! A pirate on a Marine ship was pushing it, but a pregnant pirate on a Marine ship? He’ll probably dump me somewhere since I won’t be able to fight alongside you guys like I promised…” Tears start threatening to spill from your eyes as all the worst-case scenarios start playing through your head.

“Vice Admiral Smoker would never! Sure, he’s a little rough around the edge, but he’d never kick you off for something that you can’t control.” Soft tears slip from your cheeks as you listen to her words.

“Do you think the Straw Hats will take me back? I know you're a Marine, so your answer might be biased, but…”

“If they don’t, you can come back to G-5 and join the Marines!” You giggle slightly.

“If push comes to shove and they don’t take me back, you're gonna be stuck with me.” Tashigi smiles at you brightly, which makes you smile in return.

Yet there was still one cripiling fear that resurfaced and continues to resurface no matter how hard you try to forget it.

You remembered what Kid said when you told him that the Straw Hats would save you. The rage in his eyes, when those words slipped from your lips, made you fear for any future you might have that didn’t involve Kid. If he made a statement about the Straw Hats without a second thought, would he do the same to G-5? He’s violent in general, but you can’t imagine how violent everything would get if he got his hands on the people who helped you hide from him.

“What should I do though? What if I really am pregnant?” Tashigi was quiet as she thought about how to answer.

“Would it look like him? Have his facial features or hair? Could it look like me?”

“I don’t know. Only time will tell if or when the baby arrives.” You lay your head on her shoulder as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“We’re stopping at an island tomorrow to gather supplies. We could go to the hospital there to see what the fully certified doctors have to say.”

“What about the bounty on me from Kid?”

“We can disguise you? I’m sure we can try to hide as many identifiers as possible.”

“I guess. Let’s hope that it works.”

~~~

Sitting still, you let Tashigi mess with your appearance. The two of you have been in her cabin for what felt like forever just to disguise you. She had you put on one of her long-sleeved shirts under your Marine uniform to hide the scars along your arms.

“What if we put a small part of your hair in front of your eye/scar to hide it? It’ll look a little weird, but it’d be less eye-catching than a bandage.”

“Alright, sounds good.” The two of you stand up and begin to make your way to the ship’s deck.

It was a beautiful day outside when you left her cabin. The sun shined down and watched you walk beside Tashigi as you passed the rest of G-5, who were getting ready to grab supplies. Your legs feel weak as you struggle to walk down the ramp. The sound of bustling passerby’s and the talking of the crew from behind you only makes your nervousness worse. The overwhelming feeling of anxiety swallowed you whole as you finally stepped foot off the dock and onto the green grass. Hearing your shoes glide against the grass for the first time since Sabaody made a small upturn of your lip. A tiny ray of happiness in the dark of your anxiety and fear.

“Look mom! It’s the Marines!” Looking to your right, you see a small boy and his mother. He tugged on his mom's arm to try and bring her closer to you and Tashigi. The boy held such a cute smile as he ran up to you.

“I wanna become a Marine! I can fight and kick pirate's butt!” His eyes held such a bright light that it was impossible not to be as smiley as him. Crouching down slightly, you watch as the little boy rolls on his heels.

“Is that so? Are you sure you got what it takes, little man? Are you brave enough to also fight the weather?”

“I’m brave! I’m not afraid of anything! The weather is nothing!” The little boy’s excitement made your heart skip a few beats. For a living being so small, he has so much happiness and life inside him.

“Tell ya what, come back in a few years, and we’ll be happy to have you join.”

“Why not now?” A cute pout played against the boy's face.

“To get stronger, of course! Plus, wouldn’t you miss your mommy if we let you come with us?” the boy turns around to see his mom smiling at him. He ran to her and wrapped himself around her. He said something, but it was muffled by his mother's clothes.

“Thank you for giving him a second of your time. I bet you guys are busy, so we should be off. Do you wanna say goodbye to the Marines, baby?” Lifting his face from his mother's clothes, he waves to you and Tashigi with the cutest smile.

“Byyee...” You both walk in different directions after waving back, the sound of the giddy child ringing in your ears.

“Said like a true Marine.”

“Best pirate Marine the world has ever seen.” You whisper rhyme, and it only makes Tashigi laugh.

“I think you’ll be okay (Y/N).” She whispered back, making you turn to look at her.

“Huh?”

“I think you’ll be okay. You seem good with children. Your caring personality really shows.”

“OH! Well, that's only one child! Plus, I might not actually be pregnant! The universe might have just wanted to scare me…” Laughing awkwardly, you think about what the doctor and their tests would say.

While making your way to the hospital, it seemed like you passed by every child on the island. Kids from 13 all the way to infants. All of them with happy parents giving them the love they deserve. The joyful giggles made a small smile crack along your lips.

Yet, it soon disappeared as you unconsciously put your hand to your stomach. All those children with happy lives with healthy caring parents. If you really were pregnant, the child’s life would be nothing like the ones living on this island. It’d be constantly on the run along side you. That can’t be healthy for a baby right?

“Looks like we’re here.” The big sign saying ‘HOSPITAL’ made you swallow the lump in your throat as you walked through the front doors right beside Tashigi.

It seemed like everyone and their grandma was here today. Almost the entire waiting room was full. You get in line behind a man and wait for your turn as Tashigi goes and sits down. Once it got to your turn though, you feel your hands start to sweat.

“Hi, welcome to Halyard Island Hospital. What can I do for you today, Marine?”

“Oh, um, think I might be pregnant, but I want a doctor to check it out before I jump to any conclusions.” The receptionist started typing before she asked for your birthday and name. You start to internally freak out before remembering that you don’t have any records on yourself. Why not just give her a fake name and date of birth?

“(....) (......) is my name and my birth date is (.........).”

“Alright, you're good to go. Have a seat, and the doctor will be with you as soon as possible.” Giving a small nod, you go sit next to Tashigi, who has started to read a magazine.

“What are you reading?”

“Judging the ugly fashion choices.” You let out a snort, hearing her words.

“Didn’t know I was in the presence of a fashion designer. Mind if I judge with you to learn your skills?”

“I’m feeling generous, so I guess I can take in an apprentice.” The two of you laugh as you look down at the magazine. It was refreshing to have a small burst of silliness instead of fear and panic.

It felt like twenty minutes before your ‘name’ was called. Your heart beats against your ribs as you and Tashigi follow the doctor. The world seemed to spin as you walked along the halls. The familiar nausea you’ve been having coming back.

‘My luck is nonexistent.’ Holding the wall, you try to walk normally. Thankfully, Tashigi notices and helps you walk to the room. Once entering the room, you sit on the paper-covered bed as Tashigi sits on the chair next to it.

“So it says you think you're pregnant but want a doctor to confirm it?”

“Yes.” Sitting down at the computer, the doctor starts to give you a check-up.

“When’s the last time you had intercourse?” You can feel your face burn, and Tashigi lets out a snort.

“Two or three months ago? I believe?”

“Did you have your cycle during that?”

“Mine can be irregular, so I thought nothing of it at first, but it’s been a week since it should have started, and nothing has happened.”

“Okay. Any symptoms? Nausea, fatigue, frequent trips to the bathroom, weird food cravings, body ache, anything like that?” Listing them out, the doctor said them in the most calming way. She’s probably dealt with people like you, coming and going all the time.

“All of the above, except for the food cravings.”

“Yet.”

“Yet.” You snap your head to Tashigi, who’s smiling at you while holding back a giggle as she tries to make you laugh. Even the doctor let out a quiet laugh.

“Well, we have tests that we can use cause while it sounds like you could be pregnant, it’s better to be sure.”

“What kind of tests?”

“Blood and urine. The urine one is usually more correct and takes less time.”

“Alright. That one, then.”

~~~

The doctor had left to bring the sample to the lab, leaving you and Tashigi alone again. You lay against the bed and stare at the ceiling.

“What should I do if it’s positive? The sea is no place for a child to grow. Especially the New World.”

“You have months to think about it if you are. Don’t overwhelm yourself, and think about it all right now.” Tashigi was probably right, but it still scratched away at your mind.

“Do you want to be pregnant?”

“No. If it was another man’s baby, then maybe. But we both know whose child it’d be if I am.” Tashigi stays silent and lets you talk.

“A child deserves a happy home. With loving parents. Not someone like me. I already have so much shit to deal with from what happened, and adding a child to the mix wouldn’t be fair to them. Having a mother who has problems all the way to the ozone layer.” Just as Tashigi goes to speak, a knocking interrupts her.

“The test results came back.” The doctor's voice had you holding your breath as your heart jumped in suspense.

“And?” Sitting on the edge of your seat, you both look at the doctor.

“It’s positive! Congratulations! Your gonna be a mother!” You knew the doctor didn’t know your story, so you're not mad at her happy news delivery. Instead of what felt like a punch to the chest, was an overload of feelings. To many to name, so all you can do is let the tears start pouring harshly.

Your sobs didn’t shock the doctor, so you thought she must have concluded that you were crying tears of joy. Which they definitely weren’t. Each tear felt like battery acid sliding down your skin. This was supposed to be a happy moment. This was supposed to be a moment shared with your fiance. You were supposed to be crying tears of joy next to them, happy that you can finally have a family with the person you love.

But once again, this was just another moment in your life ruined by the man who took everything from you. Even when you were away from him, he always somehow had a way to remind you that you're never free of him. No matter where you go, he’ll always be next to you. In your mind or in person was for the universe to decide. And now, it decided that it wasn’t done with you just yet.

~~~

Walking out of the hospital, you're silent as you walk next to Tashigi. The doctor had given you a bag of things to help you on your ‘journey.’ Little things like booklets on what to expect, recommended medical items safe for mother and child, things to watch out for, and more. Didn’t help she gave you a bag with a pacifier on it.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet since we left.”

“Just wondering what the fuck I’m gonna do. Not to mention when Vice Admiral Smoker finds out-”

“There's no need to worry. Everything will be okay.” Before you can respond, countless footsteps come running toward you. Looking up, you see some of G-5 rushing their way to the both of you. It caused a gust of wind to come rushing through and slightly move the hair covering your facial scar. Leaving it visible to the world.

“Shit.” You quickly try to cover it up and act normal, hoping no one saw you in your split second of weakness.

“Marines! What’s going on?”

“Pirates were seen sailing up to the docks! The others and Vice Admiral Smoker are there as we speak!”

“Alright, let’s go take them down! Contact the others and tell them we’ll be there as fast as we can!”

“Right away-” The Marines stop their words as their eyes train in on the bag in your hand. You can see the gears turning in their heads before it finally clicks. They all gasp and point to the bag like children.

“Stop pointing! We’ll talk about that when we leave the island! Contact Smoker!”

“Uh, right! Yes, Captain!” Everyone, including you, started running towards the docks to back up the Vice Admiral.

~~~

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror, but it was enough time for you to grip the edge of the bathroom sink and try to calm your breathing.

It was difficult to look at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t someone you recognized. The scar that covered your face laughed at you endlessly, as well as the ones on your arm that were currently visible while in your uniform.

You try to imagine yourself before the raid. Before the Straw Hats, before the scars, and before Kid. Would past you even know who you are? Would your fiance still love you if they saw you like this and were still alive? Still love you and all the mental, physical, and emotional damage you’ve received? And even after knowingly carrying another person's child despite it being out of your control?

Would anyone love you?

Who would want a broken doll when they can just buy a new one? Without all the cracks and damage it’s received along its journey? Not to mention, who’d want a doll with an ‘owner’ willing to kill anyone who touches what’s his?

People would be afraid to even get close to you, let alone love you. What sane person would dare love something that could get them killed? Why love something that can’t go one day without crying or trembling when a certain thing is said or done? Why love someone who carries the child of the devil himself?

The sound of tears hitting the sink brought you back to the present. Your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm yourself down so no one would hear your sobs. Biting your lip, you look at your teary face in the mirror. Your hands shake as your knuckles turn white from how hard you were gripping the sink. But even through your blurry vision, your eye caught sight of the bag on the counter that the doctor had given you earlier that day.

“This shouldn’t be how you come into the world. You should be able to grow up carefree with a stable parent. Not me, who can’t even go one night without waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares. A child shouldn’t have to move from place to place just to make sure his crazy father won’t kidnap him and his mom. I’m so sorry that I’m going to be the one you call mother. Please forgive me…” Quiet hiccups and sobs bounce off the walls and can be heard from outside the bathroom door. Even trying your best to be silent, your woeful cries caught the attention of your comrades.

“Man, this is kinda painful to hear. She’s being really hard on herself.”

“Never thought I’d feel bad for a pirate yet here i am.”

“What will those Straw Hats think?” Hushed whispers were exchanged among the Marines before all went silent as soon as a shadow of a man loomed over them.

KNOCK KNOCK

Wiping your tears and shoving down yoru emotions, you grab your bag before opening the door.

“Sorry for being so long I-”

“Is it true, rookie?” Vice Admiral Smoker’s voice made your stomach drop. Did Tashigi tell him? Or at least tried to?

“Vice Admiral Smoker! I didn’t know you’d-”

“Is it true?” You looked up at him, and all you could do was nod as you tried to hold back the rest of the emotions you shoved away moments ago. But it didn’t matter. He could see your trembling lips and glassy eyes.

“So Tashigi was right.”

“I’m so sorry, Vice Admiral! I promise I’ll still do everything you want! Please don’t kick me off the ship! I’ll still fight in battles, anything you want I’ll still do!” Your begging only caused pity to fill Smokers body. Watching you beg for a simply a place of refuge confirmed that you were indeed pregnant. Normally, he’d never let a pregnant woman on his ship. A pregnant pirate nonetheless, but were you even a pirate? That ‘bounty’ ad wasn’t a government issued one, the whole world thinks almost everyone died on your island, including you. They basically have no record of your existence except the ad that Kid had put up for you. And based on what he’s observed, you seemed perfectly contempt when you lived as a civilian before everything went down. You simply feel like you owe your life to the Straw Hats. It’d probably be the same way if it was the Marines that saved you the first time. But they wouldn’t have let you get kidnapped again, but there was nothing that could change the past.

“I’m not gonna kick you off. You're not going out fighting pirates, but everything else will stay the same. Not going easy on you just cause you're pregnant.” He could see the relief fill your eyes at his words.

“Thank you so much! Thank you, thank you!”

“Now quit your crying and go to the dining hall. Foods done.” Sniffling a bit, you smile as you make your way to the dining hall. While it didn’t soothe all your worries, knowing you’d be safe here and Smoker would let you stay helped soothe those knawing thoughts.

~~~

The day was going great so far, no bad weater in sight, clear skies and the breakfast for the day was your favorite! You did have to tell everyone the news about your pregnancy and while it was hard, they all seemed very supportive. No one treated you differently after hearing the news which you greatly appreciated. The last thing you wanted to be reminded of was being pregnant. It’s easier for everyone in the world if it only stayed between you and G-5.

“Uh (Y/N)? Have you seen today's paper?” Another Marine came up to you with the paper in hand.

“No? Is something wrong? Did Kid up the bounty again?”

“Not exactly…” Handing you the paper, you open it with a questioning look. But as soon as your eyes scan the front page, they blow wide open.

“What?!”

~~~~

“Kid! Open the door!” The first mate of the Kid pirates banged on the metal door of his Captain's workshop. When the paper bird had delivered the daily paper, he expected the paper to be as bland as it has been the past few months. Same old, same old. That was until he looked at the front page of the paper. Instead of the bounty ad, there was a picture. A fresh picture of you.

‘Eustass Kid’s Darling, (L/N) (Y/N), Spotted on Halyard Island?’

He didn’t even read the article that accompanied it before making a dash to his friends workshop. This was finally a clue as to where you might be. Finally something to get Kid to shut the fuck up and prevent him from destroying more things in fits of rage.

“Fucking christ Killer! What do you want?!” As soon as the red-headed man opened the door, the newspaper was shoved into his chest.

“Look at the front page.” Scoffing, Kid uncrumples the paper, giving his friend a quick glare. But Killer could see the insane glee in his eyes when he read the front page.

‘The woman the entire New World has been looking for has finally been spotted! She was last seen leaving a hospital on Halyard Island disgused as a Marine! Unknown whether its a real Marine uniform or not. A gust of wind blew her hair away which hid her facial scar, making it visible for the world to see and identify her! Let’s not forget what she seems to have clutched tightly in her hand! Could this mean the cruelest pirate of the worst generation might be a father? Only time can tell.’

“Of course, it’s the fucking Marines who hid her! Always getting in my damn business. Killer! Set course to Halyard Island!”

“Already told Wire on my way here.”

“Good. Board and search any Marine ships we see on the way there. If the Marines are hiding her, then we can’t take chances and let them slip past us.”

“You do know what this means, right?”

“Yeah, I get what’s mine back.” Killer hit the back of Kid’s head.

“Ow! What the fuck?!”

“It means pull your head out of your ass! If it’s true, if (Y/N) is pregnant, that means you're going to be a dad. Any enemies other than the Marines will want to kidnap and hurt (Y/N) and your possible unborn child. We already knew the risks of putting out the ad. It's to let our enemies know that you have a weakness. But now she could be in even more danger when pregnant. We need to get her before she gives birth understand?” Rubbing the back of his head, Kid realized Killer was right. Your safety was in danger even more now that his enemies knew that you might be pregnant. Not to mention, what are the Marines gonna do with you and his child?

The thought of him being a father finally hit him a full force when he invisioned the moment he got his hands on you again. He’d get to see your belly grow with something the both of you created. The child would be the thing that keeps you with him forever.

~~~

“Do these journalists not have any souls?! Who would want to snitch on an escapee?! Truly heartless.” Tashigi rubbed your back as you cried into your hands. How could your luck grow so sour?

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken that dumb bag! Now the whole New World knows about this stupid fucking child!” Tashigi lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry. It’s no one’s fault this happened except the person who took the picture. Not yours or the unborn baby.” Wrapping your arms around your tummy, you sniffle.

“I’m sorry. I just…This should be an experience I share with someone I love. I should be talking about baby things with joy and eating gross, a combination of random food, not fearing for my and the baby’s safety twenty-four-seven. I should be able to sleep without having nightmares about their father's eyes.” Tashigi stays quiet as she continues to try and soothe your troubled mind.

“What if they look alike? What if the baby’s a spitting image of him?”

“You’ll be able to turn them into something Kid isn’t. Make them kind and loving. Have them be the person Kid can never be. It’ll be like starting a new. They aren’t just Kid’s child. They’ll also be yours.” Rubbing your eyes, you nod in agreement, trying to convince yourself that what she spoke was true.

“You're right. Thank you, Tashigi.”

~~~

Hours later and your still thinkning about Tashigi’s words. How the small thing growing inside you wasn’t just Kid’s, it was yours too. You had the power to make sure that the insanity ends with Kid.

But even with her words, your heart and soul still burned in rage and sadness. Knowing that the child you thought you’d be raising happily with your fiance was in fact the offspring of satan himself. A product of lies and bloodied hands.

An eerie sense of lonliness surrounds you making yoru skin prickle and the tips of your fingers tingling. You run your hands along your upper arms to try and warm yourself, maybe to even stimulate a hug. Just something that could make you feel less alone.

Even though you have the G-5, you still felt like you were fighting alone. Why couldn’t you have just gone home and have your mom and dad still be alive? Waiting for you on the porch, your fiance running out from the house to pick you up and twirl you around. Kissing you repeatedly and crying out how much they loved and missed you.

Yet, even with all the crying, pleading, and denial, you know that you’ll never feel your fiance’s touch again. Never hearing your parents telling you how much they love you. You couldn’t even remember what they looked like or sounded like anymore. Cause all you see and hear is him.

Even in your day dreams he was there. Invading every part of your mind. You could be imaging how you used to dance with your fiance, only for kid to take his place. He’d grab you and hold you close while laughing. Forcing you to dance his macrabe seranade.

You could feel tears slide down your skin as you now realize its no longer your fiance’s touch that your body craves, it’s his. Those times where he’d envelop you in his coat while he held you. Times where his kisses were nothing but burns along your body.

Clenching your fists tight, you feel the feelings you tried so hard to destroy resurface. How can five months of amensia battle against two years of pure hatred? What did Kid magically do that made you fall in love with him? Why was there still that sliver in your heart that made you miss him? After all he’s done to you, why does your body still miss his touch? Why did your heartbeat quicken every time you remember how he gently ran his fingers through your hair when he was drunk and starting to pass out?

Curling up in a fetal position, you just silently cry yourself to sleep as you wished for the positive feelings for Kid would decay and disappear.

A low hum woke you open from your sleep as your eyes flutter open. The blur quickly leaving and you see a familiar room. A smile slips across your lips while you move your hand behind you. The feeling of silky hair touching your fingertips made you sigh as you softly started to run your fingers through it.

You just then notice the arms around you tighten and a kiss being placed on the crook of your neck.

“Morning, baby. Did you sleep well?” Groaning into your skin, you feel his words vibrate against your neck.

“Slept fine.” More kisses were pressed along your skin, which made your cheeks burn up.

“Dream about anything?”

“No.”

“Well, I dreamt about you.” Turning to look over your shoulder, you see amber eyes staring back at you. Red hair slightly brushing against your jaw.

“Better have been good.” You maneuver your body to the point you're facing him. Placing your hands on his face, you chuckle.

“I dreamt about kissing this pretty face of yours.” A red hue covered the man’s cheeks as he looked at you wide-eyed.

“Aw, Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid is blushing! You're so cute when you blush.”

“I’m not cute shut up.”

“No.” You started placing kisses on each freckle that adorned his face. The heat of his cheeks were hitting your lips as he lays there frozen. With each kiss, you couldn’t help but giggle. You wished you were wearing lipstick just so you could see his face covered in pretty (color) lipstick. When you pulled away, almost his entire face was as red as his hair.

“Sappy little shit.” Pushing your face to his chest, Kid lays his own on top of yours. Being surrounded by his presence only, you felt safe in his arms. You can feel him hug you a little tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere. No need to smush me.” Laughing, you kiss his chest, only for Kid’s arms to tighten around you even more. It started to hurt as you couldn’t move. His strong arms pressing harshly against your ribs.

“Um Kid? Your squeezing kinda hard and it hurts. Do you think you can lighten up a bit?” Instead of loosening his grip, Kid only tightens his arms around you more. It felt like a python was constricting you. The pressure felt like it was gonna break your bones.

“Kid! You're really hurting me! Please stop!” Pushing and squirming, you desperately try to escape Kid’s killing grip.

“How dare you think you can fucking leave me? Do you think I won’t follow you! Find you? You can never fucking leave me!” With your heart dropping to your stomach, you try to pinpoint his behavior. What the hell is he talking about?

“What are you talking about?! I’m right here! I haven’t left!” Just then, a SNAP could be heard, and a brutal pain was felt in your chest. He must have broken a rib cause the pain was unbelievable.

“I’ll kill everyone who takes you away from me. Those worthless Straw Hats and those puny G-5 Marines. No one takes what’s fucking mine.” More pressure is applied to your body, and it feels as if more bones are quietly cracking. It was starting to feel like your ribs were stabbing your lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“What are you talking about?! Who are you talking about?!” Fear coursed through your veins as you looked up at Kid. Your eyes widened, seeing the pure madness that swirled inside his eyes. With as much strength as you can, you try to use your devil fruit powers to electrify him just in hopes of getting him off. There was a quiet crackling before a loud ZAP was heard, and you see Kid jump back and fall to the floor off the bed.

Without a seconds waste, you jump out of bed and run out of the bedroom. Yet the second you open and close the door, your blood freezes at the sight your met with. Fire, smoke and black silouttes staring right at you.

“(Y/N)!” You didn’t have time to question. You had to run now. With fear coursing through your veins and electric static slithering along your body, you ran past the silhouettes and into the fire and smoke.

The heat and smoke made it difficult to breathe but the broken rib hurt more yet here you were running as fast as you can. It caught you off guard when you started hearing voices coming from the silouttes. No, not voices, screams. High pitched screams started playing from each direction. Women’s, children’s, and men’s screams were all around you. Not even covering your ears stopped the loud horrific screaming. It sounded like they were in horrific pain and agony. Begging to be free from this etneral hell their suffering.

“Running can only get you so far (Y/N)!” Still covering your ears, you try to zone out his words. The broken rib causes excruciating pain as you run away faster. Who was this man chasing you? Where was your Kid? This couldn’t be him!

A baby crying has you uncovering your ears and your eyes widening. In these flickering flames and deblilitating smoke a baby was crying! You move to the sound of the crying baby, hoping it wasn’t hurt. Running through the flames, you look desperatly, trying to find it before the flames got to it. The flames were already licking at your uncovered skin so you couldn’t imagine what it’s doing to a baby’s sensitive skin.

Finally you see a bassonett right in the middle of a ring of fire. Small hands reaching out trying to grab anything. Running to the bassonett, you bend down and quickly to see the baby in it. But the moment you see the baby’s face, your blood goes cold.

There was no face.

Watching in shock and horror as the baby continued to cry out. It had no mouth how was it crying? Reaching out with a shaky hand you gently touch the baby’s chunky finger. It wrapped it’s little hand around your finger and you could hear it’s cry’s start to stop.

The heavy sound of Kid’s footsteps quickly reminded you of your situation. Without another thought, you grab the bundled up baby and begin to run. The cries soon resumed as you run through the fire and smoke. The screams of the silouttes got louder with every step you took. You tried to cover the baby’s ears to protect it from the screaming.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, no need to cry, little one. We’ll be okay, alright? You’ll be okay.” Five fingers touched your scalp before the burning pain of your hair being pulled surged through your body. You were pulled back before falling on your butt. Opening your eyes, you try to see if the baby is okay, only to see it’s gone. Not in your arms, around you, and now its cries were gone. Like it never existed.

“Caught you, princess. Now let’s go.” Now it was your turn to scream as you tried to untangle his fingers from your hair.

“No! Let me go! Why are you acting like this?!” You feel Kid lift you to your feet, making you look up at him with watery eyes and a trembling bottom lip. He gives you a grin before responding.

“Oh, princess.” Moving his mouth to your ear, he whispers,

“I’ve always been like this.”

Your eyes blow open as you wake up in a cold sweat. Quickly sitting up, you move your head back and forth, preparing to see smoke and flames. Yet, to your delight, you were just met with the rest of the G-5 Marines, sleeping in their bunks peacefully. Placing your hand over your heart, you can feel your heart beat faster than ever.

With shaky breaths, you lay back down and stare at the ceiling. You’ve never had that nightmare before. Could it have to do with that you now know your pregnant you’ll start having more of those kinds of nightmares? Nightmares including a baby? Would the baby even have a face in the next dream? You didn’t know and didn’t want to know.

~~~

“I’ve never felt so much mischief fill my bones than right now.”

“It is pretty cool and funny.”

“Pretty funny and cool? It’s fucking awesome! I’ve got actual finger guns! Except they shoot electric shocks instead of bullets.” While training with Vice Admiral Smoker, you pretended to shoot a Marine who was passing by with your fingers, only for a shot of electricity to actually come shooting out of your fingers.

Smoker, you, and the Marine all stood there for a second to try and comprehend what happened before you started hyping yourself up for finding a new move you have. It has you counting how many moves you had and what names you should call them.

“Okay, so I have a move to cover my entire body with electricity. I’ve been able to make a ball of electricity when I focus hard enough and throw it. I got finger guns…and that’s it.” You thought you had more, but you just proved that you still have lots more to learn about your devil fruit capabilities.

“Try making one of those electricity balls you were talking about.” Smoker's voice breaks through your inner thoughts.

“Of course! I’ve only done it once, so forgive me if it’s bad.” Taking a deep breath, you try to focus all your energy into your hands. If you did it once, you can do it again. Breathing in heavily, you feel the familiar tingling in your fingers.

Sizzling and snapping ring across the deck as you watch your hands do the same thing they did that night Heat told you, you had devil fruit powers. You can see your hands start to shake when the ball finally starts to materialize. Even with the ball being small as it is, it was difficult to make it stable. How did you do it so well the first time is unknown.

Just then, the ball exploded and the electricity shot out in all different directions. Thankfully no one got hurt but you immediately felt bad for putting other people in danger.

“Oh my god, is everyone okay!? I’m so sorry!” Smoker only crossed his arms.

“It’s fine. You might be able to make that a move, but it’s also dangerous to do around people. So practice that alone and do it when you're surrounded by enemies.” Nodding, you look down at your hands and see red burning lines along your skin. It must have been one of the downsides of your devil fruit. But the sound of a squawking paper bird has you looking up. The second you looked up, today’s paper came falling down before hitting you straight in the face.

“Ow! Damn bird!” Rubbing your nose, you grab the newspaper off the ground. Giving the bird the finger, you open the paper, and horror washes over you the moment you read the title.

‘Halyward Island Ransacked and Burned to Ashes by Kid Pirates!’

“What?! No way…” The picture that accompanied it was ruined buildings and smoke still fizzling from the ashes. Its monotone colors make the horror from the singular picture more gut-wrenching.

‘After recent news about Eustass Kid’s darling being spotted on Halyard Island, it seems the man himself decided to make an appearance to take back what’s his. But unfortunately, it seems his darling has already left the island! Some surviving islanders are mad that she came to the island while some don’t blame her. It’s a 50/50 split among the survivors. Will this be a one time thing or will any island be in danger if she’s spotted there?’

Lowering the newspaper, you look down at the ground with tears running down your eyes. You were completely silent as the tears slipped across your skin. Your hands shook as your horrified look tipped off Smoker and the Marine. It didn’t hit you that Smoker had taken the paper from your hands before you heard him cuss.

“What the fuck is this shit?! Ain’t no way they're blaming you for a pirate's insanity!” You see Smoker ripping apart the newspaper before throwing it overboard. He walked over to you with a stern look on his face.

“Listen here (Y/N), what happened on Halyard Island is not your fault. Journalists are all freaks who feed off the misery and suffering of others. Now tell me it isn’t your fault.” Letting out a few sniffles and shaky breaths, you repeat it back to him while wiping your tears.

“...it’s not my fault…”

“I didn’t hear you!”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Again!”

“It’s not my fault!”

“And don’t you forget it! We’re done for today.” Just like that, Smoker turns around and walks away. Leaving you and the Marine there.

“He’s right. It’s not your fault.”

“I should know that, but the guilt is killing me. It felt like I was looking at a picture of my home.”

“Maybe take a nap? Sleeping always makes me feel better, even if it’s just for a second.”

“I guess…” You rub your upper arm to soothe yourself as you make your way to the bunks. While being alone sounds nice to hide and cry, it also sounds horrible. It’d leave you with your toxic thoughts as the words on the paper replay in your mind every single second. You fear how true it was as you remember the little boy who came up to you. Was he okay? He was so sweet. You hoped he knew it wasn’t your fault.

When you made it to your bunk, you collapse on the bed and hold your stomach. A heartbreaking feeling overcomes you as the thought of the little boy getting hurt. He was a simple child, he shouldn’t have to deal with such destruction. Looking down at your tummy, you let out a shaky breath.

“Why can’t I accept it’s not my fault? I even tried disguising myself. If it wasn’t for the small gust of wind, then that island might still be okay.”

“I keep thinking about you and this whole pregnancy thing. I won’t lie to you. I’ve been thinking about once you're in the world, I was gonna put you up for adoption. It’d be better for both of us. I haven’t even met you, but I know you deserve a normal, loving home. A place where you can grow up without worries. A place you can grow up without me.” Your body begins to shake as more tears soon blur your vision. Biting your trembling lip, you try to collect yourself.

“I can’t take care of you. Not when I feel like I’m about to break down any second. I hate your father and want him to keel over and die. My hatred is something I don’t want you to grow up surrounded by. I want you to love the world. You could even try to change it for the better.” The silence after your words makes you let out a pitiful giggle.

“You're not even the size of an oreo, and yet I’m talking to you like you can hear me. God, I probably look so crazy talking to myself. Maybe I am crazy, maybe this is all a dream, and I’ll wake up at home. That’d be insane, huh? Everything I’ve ever known in the past two to three years just gone. And that's another reason why I cannot be your mother. I want that. I want this hell to be a dream. I want to go back to my home. Wake up and realize that this never happened.”

“I cannot be the mother of a child I dream doesn’t exist. I do hope you understand in the far future, why I’m making this decision. Please don’t hate me for it. I just want you to have a childhood so loving that your smile lights up a room. That even the worst of the worst can’t ignore or harm you in any way once they see your smile.”

“And while that smile is not something I can give you, know that I don’t hate you. I just know this is best for you. And what’s best for you…isn’t me.”

~~~

Another art piece lets gooo

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid x reader

58 notes · View notes

millersdjarin · 1 year

Text

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Seven

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (AFAB)

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: injuries, stab wounds, mentions of paid sex, creepy guy but nothing creepy actually happens, protective!din, slow burn, bonding

Chapter Length: 7k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

notes: happy thursday, friends, i hope you enjoy! longer chapter this week, and the next one is longer still :D

luck of the draw only draws the unlucky; so i became the butt of the joke

This is the second time you’ve waited at the ship while Mando completes a mission.

You have officially decided that you don’t like it.

Caring about someone, as it turns out, comes with a lot of worry; especially when you know that he’s out there doing something dangerous, and you have no idea how you can help. You don’t even know who he’s after, where he’s going. He doesn’t come back with people or bodies, so you know it’s not regular bounties that he’s getting. All he tells you is that there are people who are after the kid, loose ends from whatever journey they’ve been on, and that he has to make sure they never become a problem.

He doesn’t tell you why people are after the kid, but it’s not hard to put two and two together, knowing what he’s capable of. People probably want him for those magical healing abilities.

And, besides, you don’t feel you can ask Mando for all the information. He’s done enough for you already. And you don’t know if you could handle having him reject you, so you just don’t ask.

But you are an over-thinker. Always have been. So when he’s out on these missions, and you wait at the ship with Grogu, the horrifying images that your mind so helpfully conjures when he’s out for just a little too long plague you until your heart races and you almost descend into full blown panic. Two things stop you from going that far:

One, the kid. You have to make sure he feels safe. Mando is trusting you with him, and the weight of that trust isn’t lost on you.

Two, embarrassment. You’ve barely known the guy four weeks. It doesn’t make sense for you to be this invested.

The sun will soon be setting on Coruscant. Mando said he’d be back before day’s end. To distract yourself, you sit in the cockpit with the kid, gazing out at the city in front of you.

You always dreamed of seeing this place. It’s even busier than you could have ever imagined. In the daylight, it looks like trillions of little ants are whizzing through the sky in traffic lanes, and the buildings and streets are crawling with people, the walls all the same shade of light beige. It’s hectic, but pretty amazing to see. You’re grateful, though, to be safe in the ship. There are too many people out there. And if anywhere has people that will recognise you—it’s Coruscant.

As the day turns to dusk, the kid falls asleep in your arms, and you sit in the pilot’s chair, willing Mando to appear through the crowds at the docks or the streets beyond. He’s easy to spot, even amongst this unique type of chaos.

You find a new distraction: looking for lights as they turn on in each building. There are so many, and just when you think that there can’t be any more, another twinkle will appear in a tiny window or along a street edge. It’s turning into quite the pretty picture, all the lights zooming in the sky from people’s speeders, the tall buildings and the short blending together to make something enchanting. The people start to disappear in the darkness; from the comfortable quiet of the cockpit, you could let yourself imagine that there’s no chaos out there at all.

You’re getting worried now, though. Your bottom lip is starting to hurt from chewing it. The kid is still fast asleep in your arms, which is probably a good thing, because you’re not sure you can hide your anxiety anymore.

Mando said he’d be back hours ago. You don’t even know where he went. You couldn’t report him as missing even if you did.

Kriff. Kriff, kriff, kriff.

What if he doesn’t come back? What if he’s dead, or been captured? What if you and the kid are stuck here forever, and are never going to see him again, the shiny beskar and his gloved hands; what if you never hear his voice again? One of his rare, lovely laughs? What if—

The hiss of the boarding ramp lowering has you shooting out of the chair so quickly that you’re surprised it doesn’t wake the kid. You rush through to the living quarters, manage to fumble down the ladder with Grogu in one arm, not having it in you to be embarrassed by how urgent you must look.

When your feet land on the deck, you turn around, and there he is.

The door hisses shut behind him and you hear the click as it locks.

He’s leaning against the wall with all his weight. One hand is lifted to grasp at his ribs, and it takes your anxiety-ridden brain a minute to catch up on the fact that it’s not shadows on his gloves—it’s blood.

“Mando!” You say, just a little too loudly. The kid doesn’t stir, so you gently place him in his hammock, and close the door to the bed quarters before rushing over to Mando.

“I’m alright,” he says, but he sounds strained. His right pouldron is pressed into the wall, blood staining his hand where it holds the rib underneath.

You rush to him, your hands flailing about a bit, not sure where to put them, or if you should put them anywhere— “Sit down,” you instruct, helping him over to the nearest crate. He limps, grunting softly in pain as he sits down. “What happened? Where’s your med kit?”

He gestures to the locker behind you, right beneath the ladder. You’re there and back in a flash, kneeling down in front of him and tearing open the medpack. “The guy had friends,” Mando says, like that’s an explanation.

“They shot you?”

“Knife. To the ribs.”

“Kriffing hells,” you shuffle closer, trying to inspect the wound. He’s still holding it with his gloved hand, the light brown leather completely covered now in dark red blood. Your hands hover above him. “Can I…?”

He nods, and pulls his hand away.

Fuck. It’s a five inch long gash, an inch across. Seeping fresh blood, dripping down the small piece of skin that you can see where the flight suit has been slashed. Reaching into the med pack, you pull out some gauze, and immediately press it into the wound, applying as much pressure as you can. It must hurt like fuck, but all he shows of it is a soft grunt, tilting his head away from you like he’s embarrassed of it.

“How much does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse,” he says. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Mando, it’s going to need sutured,” you correct him, slightly incredulous. Your wrists start to ache from the pressure you’re holding, but you don’t care. It doesn’t matter. His blood is on your hands, getting under your fingernails. All that matters is stopping it.

“Dank farrik,” he curses, clenching his blood-covered fist in his lap.

“Did you get the guy?” You ask, shifting a little in your place to get a better angle. “He’s not, like, coming after you, is he?”

“No. He and his friends are dealt with.”

“Good,” you breathe out in relief, and turn back to your task. Your fingertips are brushing against his skin. It’s a damn shame you can’t appreciate that.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says after a minute more of direct pressure. His voice still sounds strained, like he’s trying his hardest to keep the pain from it.

You scoff. “Yes, I do. You can’t suture this wound yourself where it is.”

“You know how to suture?”

“I do,” carefully, you pull away the gauze, relief flooding through you when you see that the worst of the bleeding has stopped. Throwing the bloody fabric to the ground, you reach for the cleaning alcohol in the medpack, and cover more bandages in it. “Sorry, but this is going to hurt,” you apologise, looking up to his visor, waiting for his approval. “I don’t trust that they didn’t use a dirty blade.”

Resigned, he nods, and gestures with his red glove for you to continue.

Cringing, you press the soaked gauze to the wound. A hiss comes from his helmet, his chest tensing like he’s holding his breath. You feel his muscles flexing, holding taut against the pain.

Then, you prepare the sutures. It’s been a while since you’ve done this. The last time was when you first escaped, and you cut your arm on some barbed wire on your way out of the house. Once you were safely on the shuttle, you sat and sutured with one hand, tying the knot with your mouth.

Mando’s breathing is laboured as he slouches weakly on the crate. He holds open the hole in the fabric, allowing you the best access he can.

“Sorry,” you soothe when the needle goes through a particularly sore bit. “Almost done, I promise.”

He nods in your peripheral vision.

Once he’s sewn up, you grab a bacta patch and stick it over the wound. Then, resisting the urge to run your fingertip around the edges of it, you gently remove his hand from its hold on the flight suit’s tear, and flatten down the fabric as best you can.

He sighs, relieved that it’s over. “Thank you,” he says.

“Of course. I’m just sorry you got hurt.”

“Not your fault,” he grunts as he pushes off the crate so he’s sitting up more, instinctively bringing his hand up to hold at the wound. “I’m sorry it took me longer than I said.”

You nod, remembering how worried you were. (Maybe you were right to be.) “Complications,” you say, smiling a little, shrugging a shoulder.

“They seem to like me,” he quips.

You laugh, too, just relieved that he’s back, he’s safe, he’s not bleeding out.

“Where’s Grogu?”

“He’s asleep. Fell asleep in my arms a while back. I put him in his hammock when you came in.”

Mando nods. He’s looking at you, intent. You find the courage to hold his gaze.

Then, it hits you what just happened. Arguably the least important part of what just happened, but that’s probably why it’s only coming up now—you just touched his skin.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes shift from his visor to his ribs, to where your fingers just were, ghosting over his skin without a second thought, without a moment to appreciate it. He was so warm. Your fingertips can still feel him. Like they never moved away.

As if catching you staring, Mando shifts. He doesn’t look away from you, doesn’t try to get you to look away from him.

“I was worried about you,” you confess into the quiet, still staring at his ribs. “You said you’d be back before sundown.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called you on the commlink to let you know.”

You shake your head, “No, I understand. You were busy…”

“No,” he sits up just a little closer, barely grunting in pain this time. “No, I should’ve let you know. It wasn’t fair to let you worry.”

Wide-eyed under his gaze, you stare up into his visor, feeling your tongue dart out to wet your bottom lip. Distantly, you wish that it was him doing it. His tongue, his mouth, his lips. You just felt his skin. His bare skin. And you didn’t even think that was something that he was allowed… “I’m sorry if I overstepped. You know, touching you. If that’s against your Creed.…”

He’s still for a moment, but then he shakes his head. “It’s not.”

“So…you’re allowed to show your skin, just not your face?”

The familiar quirk of his helmet. “By Creed, it's not ideal, but when needed, yes. But just by my own rules…depends who I’m with.”

You swallow, mouth suddenly dry. “With me…?”

“I suppose I’m alright with it,” his voice is curved with a smirk. “If I must.”

You try to laugh, because it is funny, and you love it when he jokes with you, when he teases. But the self-doubt in you creeps in, weaving its way around the springing hope in your chest that maybe he’d be okay with showing you more skin someday.

“You’d tell me if I overstepped,” you say, searching, “wouldn’t you?”

As if sensing your sudden nervousness, his helmet looks straight at you again, and he leans in closer, hovering just in front of you. If it wasn’t for the beskar, you’d be able to feel his breath. “I would,” he says lowly. “You’d tell me if I did, too?”

Wordless, you nod.

And then, something happens.

Something so fleeting, so brief, that you could have imagined it.

He reaches out with his non-bloodied hand, and brushes his fingers over your temple, pushing back a piece of hair.

Then, it’s gone. Like it never even happened.

But he’s still there. His face, so close to yours. If you could, you’d look at his lips.

You swallow again, heavy, and you could swear that his visor twitches down, like he’s watching the movement in your throat. Kriff. You must be imagining things. There’s no way.

“Are you hungry?”

You’re startled to hear his voice, though it’s not unwelcome. “Yes,” you answer. “Always.”

A breathy chuckle comes through his helmet. He stands up with his hand back on his ribs, and you hear the change in his breath, the hitch in it as he tenses his muscles to try and hide his discomfort. “I’ll make you something,” he says. “I was going to take you to a restaurant tonight, give you something other than my shitty cooking. But after the scene I caused, we should probably move on.”

You nod in response, but it takes a minute for his words to actually catch up to you.

I was going to take you to a restaurant.

“Surely there are other restaurants on this planet,” you feign confidence, following him towards the ladder.

“So you do want a break from my cooking?”

“Absolutely. It’s horrible, being cooked for every night. Just really unpleasant.”

A chuckle, a shake of his helmet.

You grin at the back of his head.

“I’ll take you to a restaurant one day,” he promises, and starts to haul himself up the ladder, his arms clearly struggling against the strain of his injury. “Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say, and that’s a promise, too.

There were a few places you saw in a book in Nevarro’s library that caught your eye. Some for good reasons, some for bad.

One of the ones you definitely wanted to steer clear of was Canto Bight.

But, apparently, that’s exactly where Mando needs to go for his next target.

Which, given the pressing circumstances, you’re all for. Surprisingly. It’s Mando who isn’t.

“This is one of the people after the kid, right?” You ask, staring at the holomap of the planet that floats on the cockpit’s panel.

“Yes,” Mando says. “But if he sees me coming, he’ll either start a firefight, or flee. We can’t have that kind of heat at a casino.”

“Isn’t there a time when he won’t be at the casino?”

“Doubtful.”

“But he’s a bounty hunter, right? Can you not get him while he’s out hunting?”

“I could. But he goes off the grid when he’s working. The only place we know he’ll always come back to is the Bight casinos.”

You frown, chewing your bottom lip in thought. “I guess you going undercover isn’t an option,” you say.

He shakes his head.

Grogu is sitting in the copilot chair, playing with his favourite little silver ball. He loves that thing. He’s cooing to himself, probably coming up with some imaginative use for it.

It’s still horrifying to you that there are people after him.

A thought comes to your mind; one that, at first, you don’t know how it got there. It’s silly. It’s dangerous. You have absolutely no experience with this kind of thing, have only ever been to four places in your entire life, and all that time was spent either trying to survive your family or trying to survive being alone.

So offering to go undercover for Mando is definitely not a good idea.

But the kid.

He looks at you like he knows what you’re thinking—maybe he actually does, kriff—and his eyes are so big, so innocent, his ears tilting as he seems to listen to your very thoughts. He’s an innocent little creature. Mischievous and troublesome as hell, sure, but he’s not got a bad bone in his body. How could he, with someone like Mando raising him?

After everything the two of them have done for you, this is only right.

Crazy.

But right.

They are your friends. For that, and for the same reason you helped Mando in the first place, you have to protect them.

“I could help,” you say into the thoughtful quiet.

Mando turns his head to you. “How?”

“I could…go in there.”

“Undercover?”

“…Yeah. You know, lure him somewhere private. You could wait for me to bring him to you.”

Mando is silent for a long minute. Then, he turns away. “No.”

“What? Why?”

“I won’t put you at risk.”

“You’re not. I’m the one volunteering.”

“No.”

“Mando,” you sit forward in your chair just a little, and look down at the kid, only feeling your resolve grow stronger the more you see him. “You’re injured, and you can’t go into the casino without alarm bells going off. From what I see, the guy loves a lady by his side. I could be that lady for the night. Lure him somewhere quiet, where you’ll be waiting to take him out. I can be pretty persuasive…”

“No.”

“Come on!” You exclaim. “I’d be safe, with you looking out for me.”

“It’s not necessary. I’ll find another way.”

“You just said the only place you know he’ll be is at the casino. He won’t expect you to attack him there. It makes sense to do it like this.”

“I work alone.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling challenged all of a sudden, like maybe he doesn’t trust you to do this. And you don’t know why you’re fighting so hard to put yourself in a situation like that; to literally become an accessory to a murder.

Actually, no, you do know why. Because Grogu is at stake here. There are people after him, and Mando is doing his best to make sure he stays safe, but if you can help then why shouldn’t you? (And, maybe it’s also because you want to prove that you can. To Din, and to yourself.)

Besides. It’ll be better than sitting in this ship, worrying that Mando is dead.

“You might work alone,” you say, “but it’s alright to accept help for once.”

“You’re fighting awful hard for something dangerous.”

“I’m fighting awful hard for him,” you say, not even needing to gesture to Grogu, because you know that Mando will know who you mean. “I know you are, too. And after everything you guys have done for me, please, I want to help. I promise I’m not a liability; I can handle high pressure situations.”

Mando is still. Quiet.

“And, hey, if it all goes wrong, at least you won’t have to worry about carting me around everywhere anymore.”

The helmet whips around to look at you, followed by his entire chair turning towards you. “You’re not cargo,” he says, sounding genuinely frustrated, a bite to his voice that you’ve never heard before. “I’m not trying to get rid of you at the first chance I get; it wouldn’t be a good thing for something to happen to you.”

A smile twitches at your lips. You’ll admit; the joke was a thinly-veiled attempt to get some validation that he does, in fact, want you around. “Mando,” you say, softening your tone, “please, let me help you; let me help him. He’s…he’s special. We can’t let anything happen to him.”

He’s quiet again, though this time it’s less like he’s stewing and more like he’s processing your words. His hands are spread out on his armoured thighs, fingers splayed across the beskar. You’re so determined to do this that you don’t even let his—quite frankly indecent—pose distract you for once.

He sighs just a little. His hands slide up and down the beskar plates. “And if he’s not interested in being distracted?”

“I’ll find another way. Lure him with some spice, or something.”

“Because you have plenty of that to go around,” he deadpans. His head is tilted to the side a little, challenging. Goddammit, now you are distracted by him. Because he’s sitting there, legs spread wide with his hands pressed against his thick thighs, leaning back against the pilot’s chair with his chest just right there on full display, inviting, head tilted like he’s challenging you. It’s moments like these that you thank the Maker he’s covered in armour. Because if you could see even a slight hint at the fact there’s flesh and muscle under there, you might just fall apart at the seams. Starting with between the legs.

Now is not the time.

“I don’t want to use you as bait,” he protests, softer now, almost…scared? “You deserve better than that.”

A sad smile finds its way onto your mouth. You know he means it, but you don’t agree. “I’ve been used as worse,” you confess, quiet, not quite aware of what you’ve said before it’s too late.

Tension attaches itself to his shoulders, his fingers clenching on cool metal. “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I just meant—it’s alright. I’ll know that I’m safe, because you’ll be nearby.”

He pauses, then sighs. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” you say. Then, reaching across to rub your finger on Grogu’s nose, “It’s for him. We have to keep him safe. If we know of someone who wants to hurt him, we have to stop them.”

He doesn’t move a muscle, but something in the air around him shifts. It’s too subtle to put a finger on it. And you can’t read his face.

“Thank you,” he says. “For doing this.”

You look back to the kid. Find yourself smiling. “He’s worth it,” you say, and mean it.

When Mando speaks, his voice sounds different, almost choked. “He is.”

There’s a reason you didn’t want to come to this place.

It’s loud, bright, and far too fucking busy.

The air stinks of liquor and spice, loud with the shrill sounds of various gambling games, cheers of celebration and yells of defeat. You truly never understood the thrill of gambling. Perhaps it’s because your whole life felt like a gamble up until you left.

The guy Mando’s after is easy to find. He’s standing at the head of the roulette table, but every five minutes he walks off with a different woman from every species you can think of; then he comes back after a half hour with lipstick on his face and neck and redness in his cheeks, looking very proud of himself. The women who he left with never look quite as satisfied upon their return, though; just disappointed. Which is unsurprising, given his clear bravado that is based on nothing but the fact he’s wearing expensive clothes and jewellery. You’ve met men like him before. Cocky, totally unaware of other people, just after the next place he can find a bit of a high before moving on to the next one.

You were engaged to be married to someone like that.

The thought makes you shudder as you stand at the roulette table, and you force the memory away as he places another bet. The line of women around the table is getting shorter, and you realise why there are so many of them when you see him slip credits into the pockets of each one before he walks away with them. Looks like he pays them a pretty penny, too. In your head, you think, Good for them.

Just not good for him. Not for long.

Turns out, distracting him is easy. Mando has had eyes on the place the entire evening, and the only thing stopping you from completely losing your mind in the loudness has been his voice in your ear the whole time. He’s tracking where the target is taking the women, and tells you once you’re attached to his shoulder that he’s waiting in the bathroom for your moment alone.

The target slips some credits into your pocket, and you give him a sultry smile, taking a hold of his tie and pulling him back towards the bathroom. (The bathroom? Really? Classy.)

“If he touches you…” Mando’s voice comes through your ear, low and threatening.

“We’re on our way,” you say in a sing-song voice, pretending you’re saying it to the target, walking backwards and keeping your eyes locked on his the entire time. His pupils are blown wide, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. His hands snake over your waist, cold and clammy on the red sequin dress you’re wearing. He bites his blue lips, looks you up and down like you’re a prize.

“They’re bringing all the best ladies in here tonight…” he leers down at you.

As you cross the threshold into the bathroom, you kick the door closed behind him, giving him a teasing giggle as you pull at the lapels of his suit jacket. His hands slide around to the small of your back and jerk you in closer to him.

Mando is behind the privacy screen in the corner of the room. You know because he told you two minutes ago when he arrived.

“This place is filthy,” he’d said in your ear, “he could at least clean up between visits.”

“Come on, pretty lady,” the target grins lopsidedly at you, and one of his cold hands slides up your ribs, caressing your face. You pull him backwards towards the screen, needing to get him close enough for Mando to push the blaster to his skull. “Teasin’ me, huh? Oh, I like when they do that…”

The click of a blaster's safety switch, then the shine of it in your peripheral vision. Its barrel presses against the target’s forehead as his eyes turn from lustful to alert, widening as his hands instinctively fly up into the air in surrender.

Mando steps out from behind the screen. You step back, letting him stand in front of the target where you once were. Now, you stand behind the wall of beskar.

The target’s face straightens in recognition. “Mando,” he says. “Funny seeing you here. Never took you as the type to have a partner.”

A partner.

The helmet tilts towards you just a little. “Are you okay?” He asks.

You look at him, surprised. You didn’t expect to be on the list of priorities. “I’m good.”

He looks back to the target, the barrel of his blaster still pressed to the centre of his forehead. “You know why I’m here,” Mando says. He holds out his hand, palm facing the ceiling. “Give me the tracking fob.”

The guy laughs, high-pitched and trying not to sound like he’s nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mando.”

“The fob. Give it to me.”

“I don’t have it.”

“Where is it?”

Instead of answering Mando’s question, the man’s eyes float over his shoulder and back to you. His pupils go wide again, and he licks his thin bottom lip, then pulls it between his teeth. “Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement,” he says with a leer at you and a dreadfully-executed wink. “With your…partner.”

Mando shoves the blaster against his head, forcing him to stumble back a few feet. Mando follows him, keeping the barrel pressed in the same place, “I have a blaster to your head, and you think you’re in a position to make agreements? Look at me.”

He doesn’t.

“Look at me,” Mando says again, his tone lowering in pitch.

The man is still looking at you. You’ve never seen this kind of brazen audacity before. The man literally has his death pressed to the centre of his forehead, the Mandalorian in control of whether he lives or dies telling him to not look at you, and yet he’s just grinning across Mando’s shoulder. The look he gives you is sickening and, though you hadn’t minded his hands on you when you knew you were going to escape any second, now it’s like you can still feel them clutching at you and you wish you never had.

“Last chance,” Mando warns. “Look at me. Not at her. Or I will make you regret it.”

The man laughs.

And then, it all happens very quickly.

Mando doesn’t fire the blaster.

Instead, he tackles the guy into the wall, so rough and sudden that it makes you jump backwards. The guy yelps in surprise, Mando’s forearm now pressed against his neck. Mando shoves his knee up into the guys groin, and he groans in response, eyes squeezing shut.

“Where,” Mando growls, “is the tracking fob?”

Winded, the guy pants for a second. Surely, you think, he’s going to tell him now. It would be crazy not to.

Except, this guy is crazy. Not only is he crazy, but he thinks nothing can touch him.

So he looks at you again. This time, his hand moves at his side.

You only see him reaching for a knife when it’s already too late. He throws it across the room at you, flicking it so quickly and expertly that it happens in a blur, and before you know it there’s a searing pain in your shoulder blade as you distantly hear the sound of metal piercing your flesh.

“Ah!” You cry out and stumble backwards.

Hearing your shout, Mando turns to look at you, and in his moment of distraction the target takes the opportunity to use the hand that threw the knife to punch Mando in the side, unknowingly hitting the wound on his ribs.

Mando stumbles backwards.

There’s a knife sticking out of your shoulder, and the man isn’t running away when he has the chance.

Unbelievably, ridiculously, he starts towards you.

Before he can even take two steps, the sound of a blaster echoes through the room. His face goes blank, a fresh, still burning-orange circle shot right through his forehead.

He falls to the ground like a piece of card blown by the wind, and you only just manage to scramble backwards to stop him landing on you.

A bounty tracking fob falls from a hidden jacket pocket.

Mando is by your side in an instant, holstering his blaster. His gloved hands hover over your shoulder, which currently doesn’t even really hurt, the adrenaline carrying you through it. “Hey, did he hurt you anywhere else? How bad are you bleeding?” He checks the back of your shoulder, making sure the blade didn’t go all the way through. It didn’t, thank the Maker.

“I’m—I’m okay,” you stammer weakly, one hand clutching the skin around your wound.

“The knife is keeping in the blood,” he says, “but we’ll need to remove it. I’m going to look for some med supplies—”

As he turns to stand up, you reach out your good arm and take a quick hold of his hand, pulling him back. “Not here,” you request, beg, “please, not here. Not in front of his…his body. Take me back to the ship.”

“Cyar’ika…”

You don’t have time to question the nickname right now, “Please, Mando, I can’t—I can’t. Get me out of here, please.”

He only hesitates for a second before he’s nodding and reaching down to help you up. Pain sears through your shoulder as you stand, your arm not stable enough to stop from jolting the wound.

Thankfully, it’s so busy in this place that no one notices the two of you stumbling from the bathrooms. Once you’re clear of that area, Mando leads you down back corridors and rooms, and you try to contain your pained whimpers as each step jolts the blade in your flesh.

“It’s alright, it’s okay, we’re almost there,” he shushes you all the way, keeping you close by him, almost flinching every time someone dares come near the two of you.

It doesn’t take long to get back to the ship. He docked somewhere secluded, paid for a security-protected landing pad and a child-minder to watch the kid.

A child-minder who looks very alarmed when the ship door hisses open and in the two of you stumble, blood slowly seeping from your shoulder and down your arm.

Mando dismisses them, tells them to leave.

Once the ship is locked down again, he gently lowers you onto one of the crates—the same one he sat on when he was injured, funnily enough—and rushes for a medpack. “I’m sorry, Cyar’ika, I have to take the knife out,” he says, tone so thick with apology that it almost renders you breathless.

Well, more breathless than you already are.

The adrenaline is starting to wear off now, pain getting more and more intense. It throbs, deep and extending far over your chest and arm.

He takes hold of your good hand, and lifts it onto his shoulder. Not the pouldron; the soft bit between the beskar and his helmet, where only his flight suit separates you from his skin. Tilting his head to meet your glazed eyes, he says, “Just look right at me. Squeeze as hard as you need to,” he pats your hand, then moves away from it, “and look at me. Right at me, okay?”

Bracing yourself as he grasps the knife’s handle, you nod, staring into his visor with wide eyes. More than ever before, you wish you could see his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think he’s apologising for the pain, but then, “I’m sorry you can’t look right in my eyes, Cyar’ika, I truly am…”

You realise you’d said it out loud.

Beneath the pain of your shoulder comes guilt in your stomach, for putting your selfish wishes on him.

He doesn’t pay it any more mind though, “But I’m here, and you’re going to be okay. I promise. Just look at me. Ready?”

You nod.

He pulls, and, kriff, nothing could have prepared you for the pain.

Without Mando’s soft hands and words of comfort, you’re not sure you could’ve handled much more of that.

But now you’re okay.

The wound has been fully dealt with: cleaned, sewn up, treated with bacta, and wrapped with a big bandage all the way around your shoulder and the top of your arm. It works mostly to reduce your arm’s mobility, so it doesn’t jolt the wound.

You feel bruised, and tired. But the kid’s here, fast asleep in his hammock behind the bedroom door. You’ve got the tracking fob. The guy who did this to you is dead.

You’re okay.

Mando, on the other hand, doesn’t seem okay right now.

His calmness in the face of the crisis has worn off, and now he’s pacing back and forth, one hand on his hip as his head shakes over and over.

“Mando…” you say softly, trying to sit up better on the crate, “what’s wrong?”

He almost laughs. It’s a bitter and breathy sound, and you don’t like it. “What’s wrong?” He repeats. “I know I don’t have to explain that to you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I knew this would happen,” he mutters, almost like he’s just saying it to himself. “I knew you could get hurt. This was why I didn’t want your help, I knew you’d be in danger, I shouldn’t have let you…” his voice is deep, filled with bitterness and scolding, though only for himself.

“I’m alright, Mando,” you say. “It’s alright. Just take a breath.”

“A breath?” He whips around to face you, stopping in his tracks. “Look at you—you’re hurt! It could’ve been so much worse, I let you in there with that—that shabuir—”

“I knew the risks,” you say, shifting uncomfortably.

“So did I, and I let you do it anyway. Maker, I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it!”

Definitely too quickly in your current state, you stand up, coming closer to him than you’d intended. “I knew the risks,” you say again firmly, “I knew. You didn’t let me do anything. I insisted on doing this, because I wanted to help. And if I had to do it again, and have it happen the exact same way? I would.”

Somehow, his incredulousness seeps through his body language, his expressionless face. “I shouldn’t have let this happen,” he argues, raising his voice now, “I knew I’d put you in danger, I should’ve just done the job myself, waited for him to come out of hiding—”

It could be the pain in your shoulder, the dull ache that’s spreading through your entire body, you’re not sure; but there are tears welling in your eyes, stinging in your nose. “Are you angry with yourself,” you start, “or me?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.”

You take a step back, hurt. “We did the mission, didn’t we?” You ask tearily. “We got the fob, the kid’s safe. I’m fine, Mando, I’ll heal…”

“You’re hurt, Cyar’ika! I promised you my protection!”

Frustrated, and fucking exhausted, you throw your hands out to the side in exasperation. You’re going round in circles. “Mando, I don’t know what you want me to say! What’s done is done, it’s over, and I’m going to be okay!”

“That’s—that’s not the point…”

You take a step closer again. “Then what is the point? Because all this yelling at me is going to achieve absolutely nothing—”

“I’m not yelling at you!”

“It seems like you are!”

“I’m not!”

Anger is starting to stir in your own veins now, making the pain in your shoulder even more intense, throbbing faster as your heart rate increases. You don’t need this right now, it’s actually the last fucking thing you need—“Well, then stop yelling in front of me! Go yell at yourself somewhere else, and let me fucking rest. I’m in pain, Mando, and I can’t deal with whatever this—” you gesture vaguely to his form, “—is right now!”

Something in him deflates.

His shoulders slump just slightly, and one of his feet steps backwards, like he’d lost his balance for a second. Honestly, he looks a bit like someone just slapped him back into sense.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, so quiet compared to a moment ago, “Shit, I’m sorry, Cyar’ika, I shouldn’t have raised my voice…”

If you could, you’d fold your arms over your chest. “No. You shouldn’t.” You say, firm.

He holds out one of his hands, almost like a gesture of pleading, or reasoning. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry.”

You stare at him for a long moment. His hand is still extended, and you wonder if maybe he wants you to take it. Surprisingly, you’re not sure if you want to. Which is alien in itself, because when have you not wanted Mando to ask you to hold his hand?

But right now, you’re upset. You get that Mando is too, that he’s shaken after what happened. Later, you’ll feel honoured that he’s gotten this worked up over you getting hurt. (You’ve never even heard him raise his voice before.) But right now, getting yelled at was not what you needed, and you’re fucking tired.

“What does it mean?” You ask. Quiet. Not looking at him.

“What?”

“That thing you call me,” you reply. “Don’t tell me it’s been an insult all this time and you just called me it when you were apologising.” A wry, tired smirk tilts your lips.

He shakes his head. You’re not sure what this particular head shake means, so you just watch, and wait. Refusing to leave this spot until he tells you the damn truth.

“Just tell me, Mando. You owe me it now.”

A sigh comes through his helmet. His shoulders slump with it. He looks away, hanging his head as though he’s…ashamed? Embarrassed? “Sweetheart,” he breathes. The word comes so quietly, so tentatively, that you’re not sure he even said it at all.

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“It means ‘sweetheart’.” He says again, though this time he looks at you, the dark visor meeting your eyes.

Oh.

A new feeling in your chest, then. Something light, bright. You straighten your posture, suddenly wide-eyed and lost for words. The air in the room shifts in an instant, from tense and fraught to tender, intimate.

He called me sweetheart.

You’re saved from having to say something when the bed chamber door hisses open. Standing there, right at the foot of Mando’s bed, is Grogu. His eyes are wide and filled with tears, ears tilted all the way down to the ground.

“Kriff,” Mando curses, heading over to him. “He probably heard that whole thing.”

Maybe if he hadn’t just told you that he’s been calling you sweetheart all this time, you’d say something like, “And who’s fault is that?”

But, right now, you can’t even form a word, let alone a sentence. And you don’t want to give him attitude or snark. In fact, you don’t know what you want to give him. (Well, that’s not entirely true…) Since he just gave you the truth, even though it meant admitting something like that. Or, at least, it felt like he admitted something.

Sweetheart.

Immediately, your brain rationalises it.

He probably calls everyone that.

(You know that that’s objectively not true.)

It’s probably just a slip of the tongue.

(He doesn’t do those. Every word out of his mouth is purposeful.)

It was probably just to calm me down.

(You didn’t even know what it meant until you forced it out of him.)

No, there’s no explaining this any other way. Either he’s being cruel by calling you something so soft and not meaning it, or he has something like the same feelings you do.

And he is not a cruel man.

Mando'a translation: Shabuir - extreme insult, "jerk" but much stronger.

Notes: ahhh i hope you enjoyed!! as always i appreciate any interaction but reblogs help so much with my engagement and comments/thoughts/streams of consciousnesses make my lil heart happy :) next chapter is a long one so buckle up for that one. see you monday :)

take care of yourself!

taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @whenpugzfly @elsasshole @moony-toasts @julesjewelss36 @jbcalway @mxlsmith @indec1sive @lordhavemurthy @booktvmoviefangirl

#the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #gif cw #star wars fanfiction #my post #my fic: mando #i only see daylight

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penaconys-hound · 16 days

Text

Obligatory RP Blog intro post

(Warning: Contains Spoilers for the end of 2.1)

——— Making a drink is a sensory skill. In dreams, creating fizzy concoctions requires adding a bit of your mood. Heavier if you're troubled, a touch sweeter if you're in high spirits... It's not just about mixing beverages. It's about mixing the experiences of life.

Gallagher's the name, I'm one of the local "Hounds" around here. Step into Penacony, the Land of Dreams, Nameless one.

Tired? Just find a place to sit and rest for a while. Let’s have a talk and I’ll mix something up for you.

But a few words of advice…

Don’t get lost in dreams, and not everything’s as it seems.

Guidelines, Key, Tags and Notes from the mod:

Guidelines:

-Fellow RP Blogs are allowed, uh hiii Star Rail RP community

-This is my first RP Blog after like a year or so (previous ones just died) so I may be rusty so apologies for that -Using tonetags would be appreciated, not required but appreciated, especially if you say something that could come off as rude but you don’t mean it in that tone, the mod can’t read tone through text.

-SFW only please, Suggestive themes are allowed with a warning however

-Gore’s on the table though, but only if the meme gets involved, or you somehow get a good reason for it, I don’t think Gallagher would just maul you out of nowhere- However since this takes place in the dreamscape blood will be described as water and that’s all that’s gonna spill out-

-Shipping is allowed, I’ll allow any ship unless it’s pr*ship or with Sunday, with the former it’s obvious on why I wouldn’t, gross. You’ll get hit on the offense side of Gallagher’s Ultimate if you try that.

But on Galladay it’s simply cause I’m just not super comfortable with using Gallagher x Sunday after 2.1, hope that’s understandable.

But yeah, as long as you’re follow the shipping rules the sky’s the limit, especially since I see Gallagher as bi

-Mod uses the CDT Timezone and is in education, but otherwise doesn’t have a life, so what I’m saying is the reply times may be random, could be within a minute or two, could be hours, so don’t be upset if an ask isn’t answered immediately

-Anything related to, but not limited to, racism, homophobia/transphobia, sexism, ableism, etc. Is not allowed here.

I’m serious if you come into the askbox with that you’ll get the “Dog” after you:

-Anons are welcome, you can even have a custom tag if you use a sign off and show up enough

-Magic Anons are allowed however only one can be active at a time and they have a 2-5 ask cooldown depending on what the effects where

-You can technically also ask the Meme on this blog, but don’t expect it to say anything other then *STABS YOU STABS YOU STABS YOU STABS YO

Key:

“ “ (Just plain text): Dialogue

“ “ (Same as above but in bold)/“ “ (Purple bold text): (what’s used is dependent on what’s exactly being said) 180 mode Dialogue

(The text for that was originally red however I changed it to purple for two reasons: Reason one being in the lore Acheron uses Red text sometimes and I think it’d be weird if I interacted with an Acheron and she also used red text,

and I changed it to purple specifically cause matches the Meme)

“* *” (Asterisks around text): Action/Movement

“// //“ (Two slashes around text): OOC/Mod talking

Tags:

#🥃bartenders rambles : In character posts/asks

#🐺barred fangs : In character posts/asks when Gallagher pulls the 180 (Aka going “villain” mode, I don’t personally think he’s evil but he can be very creepy in a villainous way and I love that) or basically just steps out of character in a way that’s intended and not bad mod RP

#👁️ The Dog. : Mentions/Discussion of the Memory Zone Meme “Something Unto Death”

#🐾mods yapping : Posts from the mod/OOC posts, not counting OOC moments in the tags of ask posts

#💫care for a drink under the stars? : Interaction reblogs/RPs, whatever with fellow Honkai: Star Rail RP blogs, can be in or out of character

#🪶hounds prey : Interactions with Sunday and/or Robin/Mentions of Sunday and/or Robin

#🧹the bellboy : (there was no mop emoji) Interactions with Misha/Mentions of Misha

(Tags may be added for specific characters and art RBs if I decide to do that, but for now that’s the tags)

Anon Tags:

#🍸 anon

#🥂 anon

#🍀 anon

Side Notes:

-If you’re wondering on the Mod’s pronouns if you didn’t read the bio, the Mod uses Any/All pronouns (like he/she/they/it etc. Idrc-)

-This will include headcanons, if it wasn’t obvious from the “I see Gally as Bi” comment

-It could possibly get OOC at times while I’m in character, I made the blog before 2.2, but I’m trying to stick to the character as well as I can, and if 2.2 changes his character again I’ll attempt to pull something to fit with that

-Mod will refer to himself ether as “The Mod” or “Mod Werewolf”

Other Blogs the Mod Runs if you’d like to check those out:

(disclaimer they’re not all the same fandom)

@the-coolest-character-in-hsr (Hanu from Honkai: Star Rail)

@trash-president-real (Trash President (OC) Honkai: Star Rail)

Anyways hope you enjoy the blog, and avoid getting stabbed by the meme

#🐾mods yapping #Why am I slightly nervous about doing this-#But it’d be a waste to take the username then just. Not launch the blog #So here we go #Plus there are like no Gallagher’s I’ve seen in the RP community-#Guess I need to be him #honkai star rail #honkai star rail roleplay #hsr rp blog #hsr rp #hsr gallagher #gallagher #gallagher hsr

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cognacandlilac · 9 months

Text

To the Depths - Part Six - NSFW

(Pirate!Silco x F!Reader) Promises and Pomegranates

AO3 - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3.1 - Part 3.2 - Part 4 - Part 5

Rating: Explicit/MDNI Chapter Summary: You come face to face against an impossible creature and it royally screws with your understanding of reality. Will Silco help you? Chapter Warnings/Tags: this chapter is SFW. Don't you worry, more smut is coming <3 A/N: Not beta'd because I'm trying to feed my momentum monster. She's starving and she's mean.

You stand in place, still staring up at the towering monster of living water. A part of your mind understands that it is about to snap at the ship like a wild animal but the thought is simply too impossible to comprehend.

“Torches!” Sevika shouts sharply enough to drag your attention back to the deck and crew. You are not the only one frozen with fear and disbelief. Most of the crew cannot seem to believe their eyes either.

“Torches!” Sevika snarls and shoves the nearest crewmember. This sends them scurrying off to illuminate the ship as much as possible. Your gaze drags back up the column of water to the beastly head and glowing eyes. Its neck reminds you somewhat of a snake, coiled to strike.

When its head darts forward toward the deck, you at least have the good sense to brace yourself. The beast thuds against the ship as though it is made of pure, solid matter. You are knocked clean off your feet, unable to stop yourself from colliding with the railing. Breath leaves your lungs in a sharp gust just in time for a rush of water to slam against your body.

Gasping, sputtering, and dazed, the only thing you can think to do is look for Silco but you don’t see him. An unexpected stab of pain blooms in your chest that has nothing to do with the physical blows your body just experienced.

He left you to fend for yourself.

You should not be surprised. Why would you expect anything different? So what if he danced with you and briefly participated in a conversation that didn’t consist of throwing insults at each other? That does not change the fact that you are a prisoner. Less than that, even. You’re a stolen commodity.

A lump rises in your throat and you tell yourself it’s because the pain in your right side is growing more intense by the moment. No other reason.

You know why you are here. You know where you stand.

The water creature lets out another shrill roar as its glowing eyes scan the deck. Your eyes follow the serpentine curve of its neck to where its body meets the deck and continues, rising over the railing, not unlike the way a snake’s body slides over a branch. Yet, as water pours off of its form, it never changes size.

It strikes again, aiming at Locke who manages to dive out of the way. Like before, the brace of its impact rocks the ship. This time, you are able to see the way water bursts from its body and rolls across the deck the way a rogue wave would roll across a calm sea.

What in the hell is it?

“Princess, you either need to get moving or get fighting. I don’t care which one you do. Just don’t get in the way.” Sevika brushes by you with a vicious look in her eyes as she attaches what looks to be some kind of miniature harpoon to the end of her mechanical arm.

You nod, though Sevika has already moved her attention back to the water creature.

“Bring its head down!” She barks at whoever is within earshot.

You try to make yourself move in any direction for any purpose but you simply can’t. Your mind is racing and grappling with the reality in front of you, leaving your body stuck in a state of awe and terror. It is only when a crewmate, the same one who nearly came to blows with Locke, crashes against the deck in front of you.

“Fuckin’ waterwyrms,” he grumbles as he scrambles to his feet just in time to avoid another wave rolling off the body of the beast.

A waterwyrm. An apt name that scratches along the outer edge of your frazzled memory. You cannot chase after it just now.

The clatter of metal pulls your attention and you realize a thick dagger has fallen from the belt of the swearing crewmate. You call out for him, realizing too late that you never learned his name. Not that it matters. You can’t see him anymore.

You reach for the dagger, figuring it’s better to arm yourself in one way or another while you decide what you’re going to do.

The storm the other day was frightening but familiar. You’d sailed through storms before. You knew what to do, to an extent and if you didn’t, the crew was there to set you right. But that isn’t the case now.

Only a handful of the crewmates crisscrossing the deck seem to know what they’re dealing with. The rest wear expressions you imagine are similar to the one on your face right now. You are not the only one out of your depth with this.

The dagger is heavier than you expected and, truth be told, you do not know how to wield it. The closest thing you’ve held to this is an engraved letter opener that you keep on your bedside table at home, just in case.

You struggle to decide whether or not to keep the dagger or discard it but you cannot remain rooted in place like this. You are completely unprotected. Once you find a bit of shelter, you can organize your thoughts, and pull yourself together.

A flickering instinct tugs at your mind. It whispers to you, urging you to find Captain Silco. He’s supposed to keep you from harm until you are returned safely to your father and fiance. That was the agreement.

A cruel stab of logic reminds you that not even Silco could offer absolute protection against a creature of myth and magic, especially not one that is determined to flood the ship with its watery form. Besides, Silco did not hesitate to abandon you once the waterwyrm rose from the black sea.

Another flash of hurt sears into your chest and you quickly replace the hurt with anger, unwilling to allow your ego to be bruised by that man more than it already has. Enough is enough. The familiar clarity of anger awakens the part of your mind that had gone hazy with shock at the sight of the waterwyrm.

You need to get to a safe place. Quickly. You flee, heading toward the stern, nearly tripping with every step as you do so. As much as you do not want to look at it, you keep your eyes fixed on the waterwyrm. Perhaps, if you were seeing it in a painting or sketch, you would find it beautiful but not here. Not when it’s real and dangerous and hell-bent on fracturing your reality. Things like this only exist in stories.

Then again, you thought Silco only existed in stories, and look how that has panned out for you.

With a soft groan, you keep moving forward. Even in the most dire of situations, the Captain still manages to snake his way to the forefront of your mind. The thought stokes your anger and you cling to it as you navigate around the scrambling crewmates and thrashing waterwyrm. It has slithered around to the port side of the ship, an equal distance from the bow and stern. This would be a good thing if you didn’t feel a spray of water coming from behind you. You look over your shoulder to see its watery, snake-like tail rising on the opposite side of the ship.

You’ve seen plenty of sketches of mythical krakens wrapping their tentacles around ships to squeeze them into splitters. Could a waterwyrm do such a thing?

The tail swings like a whip, heading right toward you. You dive forward, evading the tail but you’ve realized you’re now scrambling to find your footing right beside the great neck of the beast. You gaze up, tipping your face all the way back to look at its head. Its attention is drawn elsewhere, for the moment. Instead of moving away, you feel the weight of the dagger in your hand.

You look at the rippling, translucent body of the waterwyrm. Surely, if it is solid enough to perch on the deck as it wreaks havoc, it is solid enough to feel the pierce of a blade. Without thinking twice, you lift the dagger and stab it into the side of the waterwyrm. The dagger pieces its watery hide like a hot knife through butter.

It does…nothing.

No, that isn’t true. It’s done something. It’s gotten the beast's attention. The waterwyrm’s serpentine neck swivels and bends, bringing its head down until it is looking you right in the eye. Those blue orbs glow and shine like fire. It has no pupils but you know it’s looking right at you, into you.

With a low, gurgling hiss, it opens its mouth.

The anger that propelled you forward evaporates, leaving you with nothing but a cold, hollow sense of fear. You cannot move. You are vaguely aware that the dagger has slipped from your hand and has clattered onto the deck.

Every inch of your skin, every drop of blood, every bone screams at you to run but you can’t. You can’t look away from the waterwyrm’s eyes. Now you see the beauty of such a creature, though the notion is far from soothing.

You will be swallowed up by its hungry maw.

You wonder if it will kill you by drowning or if its teeth are more solid than they appear. You wonder which you’d prefer. Probably the latter. You’ve never seen someone drown, but enough of your father’s men have had close enough brushes with such a watery death that you know it’s unpleasant.

It occurs to you that this is the first time you’ve pondered your own death. It always seemed like such a faraway thing. An inevitable thing, like a candle blowing out. You would be here and then you would be gone. You never gave much thought to what happened in between. The act of dying itself.

A crack rings out and it doesn’t fully register with you that something has happened before the waterwyrm’s head reels back. It snarls and snaps, howling with rage. Something bright and sparkling falls in front of your face.

“Yes!” Jinx’s delighted laugh is out of place with everything happening around you as she appears by your side. She scoops up the bright, shining thing. With a slow blink, you realize it’s one of the waterwyrm’s eyes. She slips it into her pocket. Its glow is so intense it shines through the fabric of her pants.

“You should probably move,” Jinx says, putting a hand on your shoulder and tugging you back toward the weather deck. “I just made that thing really angry and I still need the other eye.”

She turns you a little and gives you a small shove in the direction of the weather deck. There, at the top of the steps, you see Silco with a rifle in hand. As always, he looks eerily still amongst the chaos. His ocean eye is bright and focused as he watches the waterwyrm.

You dart forward and start to climb the stairs, but your legs have gone wobbly. You stumble near the top, reaching out and catching yourself on his leg to keep yourself from sliding down the steep steps.

“You’re alright, treasure.” You feel a large, gentle hand on the back of your head. “Stay right there. This will be over and done with soon.”

Several words leap into your mouth but none of them make it past your tongue. You find that you can do nothing but cling to his leg and hope his words ring true.

“Line it up for me, minnow,” Silco orders. You see a flash of blue as Jinx scrambles up the nearest mast and begins to wave and shout at the waterwyrm. The half-blind beast whips its head around, teeth bared and snarling with fury. You close your eyes, not wanting to look upon it anymore but that is worse. The moment you close your eyes, all you see is the waterwyrm bearing down on you, ready to devour you. Your eyes snap back open just as the waterwyrm strikes at Jinx. Its head moves into the perfect position for Silco to take the shot, and he does. Another crack rings out, shooting right into your bones. The second glowing eye comes loose. This time, Jinx is able to catch it before it hits the deck.

And then, you aren’t fully sure what happens. The waterwyrm moans weakly, its head swaying as it struggles to keep itself upright. It begins to collapse, as though it’s been mortally wounded rather than blinded. You cling harder to Silco’s leg, bracing for an impact that could be severe enough to damage the ship. Just before the waterwyrm’s limp body hits the deck, it melts into water. Thick droplets of seawater smash into the surface of the deck like a vicious rain, but that’s all that happens.

Your brow furrows with confusion before you look up at Silco. He sets the rifle aside before reaching down to help you to your feet. Around you, the crew checks for damage to the ship. Some look exhausted and annoyed. Most look as confused as you feel. Sevika looks as though she’s just eaten a whole lemon. You briefly wonder what she must have seen in her life for something like the waterwyrm to be considered little more than an inconvenience.

“Those glowing stones gave life to the water,” Silco explains, his voice gentle and filled with patience that makes something hurt inside of your chest. “Remove the stones, remove the problem. The stones are very valuable as well, as you can probably imagine.”

You nod, though it’s a jerky, automatic response to his words. You hear them. You know what you saw. But your mind just refuses to accept that something like that can exist in your world.

“Are you hurt?” Silco keeps speaking to you in that low, gentle voice. You hate it. You don’t want to see that softness in him. You don’t want it to steady you or soothe you.

“I’m fine,” you manage, though you’re not certain that’s the truth. You feel like you are going to keel over at any second.

“You’re bleeding.” Jinx glides up to your side, ever the helpful little wraith, and lightly touches your arm. Sure enough, there is a gash stretching nearly from elbow to wrist on the underside of your forearm. You can’t even feel it, though you decide that’s a good thing for now.

“Get her down to the doctor, minnow.” Silco’s good eye fills with something you refuse to acknowledge as regret, possibly even worry, when he looks at the wound on your arm.

“So much for not allowing damage to your cargo,” you mutter as you let Jinx lead you below deck. She takes you to the bottom level of the ship. You pass dozens of hammocks strung up and layered over each other as well as an assortment of trunks and personal belongings.

“Do you sleep down here?” You ask her.

“I bunk on my own,” Jinx explains, but does not offer more details.

You pass three iron cells, each fitted with several pairs of shackles. They are all empty and, thankfully, look as though they’ve been empty for a while. You briefly wonder if you were meant to occupy one of the cells. Why did Silco insist on watching over you so closely when he could have thrown you down here and been done with it?

Just past the cells is a solid wall made from spare bits of wood. Though it looks sturdy enough, it’s quite slapdash. Gaps between planks allow you to see glimpses into the room beyond. The wood bulges and indents in strange ways. With a small start, you realize the wall is made of pieces of other ships. Perhaps, ships the Zaun’s Revenge attacked and scuttled while looking for goods.

There are two crude doors set into the makeshift wall.

“I sleep there.” Jinx points to one of the doors. Its placement against the wall implies that it’s the smaller of the two rooms. She points to the other door. “That leads to the laboratory. It’s best if you wait for me or the Captain to bring you down here if you ever have a need to see the doctor.”

“Oh?”

“He’s nice, usually,” Jinx shrugs. “But he gets very annoyed if his work is interrupted. He’ll always help you if you need it, though.”

Jinx raps her knuckles against the door. Through the gaps in the slats, you see warm candlelight but also some kind of glowing, purplish light you cannot envision a source for. There is no answer from inside the laboratory but that doesn’t stop Jinx from pushing in.

The room is small, though the curved hull of the ship that makes up one wall allows for a little extra space. All manner of indistinguishable items have been cleverly stored where the room comes together to form the underside of the bow.

Tucked against the curved wall is a desk cast in shadow by a tall, thin figure whose black coat seems to eat the light around him. Shelves fitted to the curve of the hull contain jar after jar of that strange purple powder. The jars glow faintly in the darkness of the room.

The man does not look up from his desk nor does he acknowledge the presence of two new people in the cramped space.

“This is where I work on projects.” Jinx taps a cluttered workbench stocked to the point of overflowing with metal bits and bobs, screws, nuts, bolts, and plenty more objects that you can’t identify. The walls around her workbench are covered in sketches and schematics, designs of a mechanical nature. You spot a page with the words ‘MAGNETIC CANNONBALL’ scrawled across the top in big, messy letters surrounded by complex equations you can’t ever hope to untangle. The sight makes you smile a little.

“Mr. Doctor, we are in need of your assistance,” Jinx chirps and taps on the bony shoulder of the man. He glances back at her with a foggy look that is somehow both dazed and focused. He wears a cloth tied around the lower half of his face in some kind of makeshift mask.

“Hm,” he grunts softly before turning around to face you fully. You bite the inside of your cheek so you do not react to the severe burns covering the previously hidden side of his face. His other eye is surrounded by scar tissue so thick he can barely open it, which doesn’t seem to matter since the eye itself is a pale, milky color. Despite that, you can still make out dark hollows under both of his eyes.

His functional eye quickly examines your body, spotting the laceration on your arm.

“What happened there?”

You open your mouth to explain, but you aren’t actually sure how you injured yourself. “I’m not sure. I fell a few times during the waterwyrm’s attack.”

The doctor’s nonexistent eyebrows shift upward. “Waterwyrm?”

“Yes, one just gave us a hell of a fight.” Jinx’s eyes spark with pride. “Nothing we couldn’t handle though. It looks like everything held up in here just fine.”

She looks toward the shelves and she’s right. Despite the viciousness of the waterwyrm’s attack, not even a single pen looks as if it’s rolled out of place.

“Good, good,” he nods, taking a step forward on spindly legs. “Come into the light, please.”

You do as you are asked, holding out your arm for him to examine. His long fingers wrap around your wrist and put the icy grip of the reaper to shame with their coldness.

“You truly did not notice that the ship was under attack Mr…Doctor?”

“I have learned how to maintain focus in even the most unlikely situations. Besides, the Captain and crew are more than capable of handling any dangers the sea flings at us.” He chuckles softly, the sound reminiscent of scraping bones, before speaking again. “Singed. Only the little one calls me Mr. Doctor.”

Singed. Surely, that is not his true name. You find yourself staring at the ruin of his face until you remember yourself and force your eyes down.

“It’s quite alright,” Singed says as he moves to one of the heavily stocked shelves and retrieves squares of pristine white cloth and two glass vials each the size of your thumb. “For all of my faults, vanity was never one of them.”

He holds up the first vial filled with clear liquid. “Clean your wound with this first and wait for the bleeding to stop.” He holds up the second vial, half filled with liquid the same vibrant purple as the powder. “This will encourage healing. I suggest you ask the Captain for assistance. It is most potent in its liquid form.”

“But what is it?” You ask softly, taking both of the vials as well as the scraps of clean cloth.

“Have you received advanced education in biology, chemistry, anatomy, pathology, and alchemy?”

Your eyes widen. “I have not.”

“Then all you need to know is that this is something that will help you.” There is a slightly condescending tone in the doctor’s voice but you don’t have the energy to let it pinch your pride.

“We call it shimmer,” Jinx says with a helpful smile.

“You call it shimmer,” Singed corrects, turning his attention back to his desk. “That is an inaccurate and purely cosmetic name.”

“It’s catching on with the crew so you should get used to it,” Jinx shrugs before ushering you out of the cramped laboratory.

“Thank you,” you call over your shoulder but Singed is already engrossed in his work once more. You follow Jinx above deck, staring at the little vial of glowing purple liquid. The crew has largely recovered from dealing with the waterwyrm. Considering the violence of the attack, it did little damage to the ship.

“Oh, rats!” Jinx groans softly, lightly placing her fingers over the glowing stones in her pocket. “I forgot to give these to Mr. Doctor.” She hurries back below deck, leaving you alone. You aren’t sure if you’re grateful for the solitude or not.

Your mind still feels caught, stretched thin over the gap between what you thought you knew and what you now know to be true. You move toward the Captain’s cabin without thinking about it.

There are stones that somehow bring water to life. You grew up listening to myths and legends from all corners of the world. While many were soaked in magic and impossibility, you also knew the ocean still held many secrets and mysteries. You just didn’t think the secrets would be so close to the myths.

Desperate for something to occupy your mind, you dig through your memories for scraps of any myth containing the waterwyrm. Nothing comes to mind. Frustrated, you push into the Captain’s cabin to find it empty. Both relief and disappointment settle like stones on your chest. You toss the stone of disappointment away and will yourself to be happy for a moment to tend to your wounds alone.

While the bed looks welcoming, you choose to perch on the desk instead. You briefly consider sitting in Silco’s chair but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

It’s…his. Somehow, sitting in that chair feels more intimate than sharing a bed.

You place the vials and the cloth on an empty part of the desk.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the image of your hands intertwined with his, bent over the desk, as he took you from behind fills your mind. Something tugs low in your belly as the need for a distraction attempts to disguise itself as desire.

Your upper lip curls in forced disgust, but you cannot summon any anger behind the motion. You call your anger over and over, wishing to wrap yourself in it to shield yourself from the strange feelings fighting to form within you. It does not come.

With a slow, deep breath, you turn your attention to the clean cloth squares and the first vial of clear liquid. You open it and take a sniff. It’s nothing more than a simple disinfectant if your nose is to be trusted.

Singed instructed you to ask the Captain for help with the shimmer. Even if the idea of asking Silco for help was palatable, you aren’t sure you want to put shimmer anywhere near an open wound without a better understanding of what it is.

You soak one of the cloths in a small amount of disinfectant and brace yourself as you press it to your wound. The stinging pain rips through you, far worse than the pain of the injury itself.

Tears prick at the backs of your eyes and you go stone still, keeping the cloth pressed to your wound. The threat of tears has allowed a tiny spark of anger to rise. You clutch those sparks hard and throw them against the feeling your tears wish to bring forth. The sting grows until you can’t stand it anymore.

Just as you remove the cloth from your wound with a small sound of frustration and anguish, the cabin door opens.

“There you are.” Silco steps into the room and lets the door swing shut behind him. He locks it with mindless movements as his eye focuses on the sight of you sitting on the edge of his desk. Worry flickers behind his ocean eye. “What are you doing?”

“The kind doctor gave me something to patch myself up with.” You hold up the cloth as though it’s obvious. “The experience has been less than pleasant.”

“Have you ever had to tend to a wound like that before?” He asks, that horrible softness returning to his voice as he approaches you.

“I think you know the answer to that.” You try to put a little bite in your voice but fail to do so.

“Perhaps, but I’ve learned several times now that underestimating you is a foolish thing to do.” He takes the cloth from your hand without a word and frowns. “Did you dilute this at all?”

Your cheeks feel hot. “The doctor didn’t mention that I’d need to do so.”

Silco removes the seal on the water pitcher near the vanity and wets the cloth before adding a drop or two of the disinfectant. “This will get the job done and sting far, far less.”

You hold out your hand to take the cloth but he ignores it. He moves close once more and holds your injured arm in his free hand before gently cleaning the rest of the gash. The sting is still there, but its bite is far less vicious. You find that you are able to breathe with some normalcy again, though something heavy still sits on your chest.

“Ah,” Silco murmurs as he spots the vial of shimmer. “Excellent.”

“I don’t want…whatever that is,” you say quickly.

“It’s perfectly safe when administered correctly, I assure you.” He opens the vial and the cabin is soon filled with a sweet, medicinal scent that makes your nose tingle. “I use it every day.”

You tilt your head. “You do?”

He meets your gaze before bringing his fingertips to the scars around his ruined eye. “It is the only thing that keeps the infection from progressing. It dulls the pain as well. I wouldn’t be fit to man a rowboat let alone captain a vessel without it.”

“Oh.” Your gaze dips to the vial in his hand before falling silent.

Silco leans forward, bending down a little so his face is level with yours. “What, no quips? Surely, you can think of some remark to make about such a substance turning me inhuman.”

You say nothing.

“Not even a little jab at my charming personality and wonderful temperament?” There is a teasing lilt to his voice but that softness still remains.

You shake your head. You aren’t in the mood to trade barbed remarks, not that your mind would cooperate with you if you were.

Silco sighs softly and returns his attention to the shimmer vial. He moves away from you for a moment to fish something out of one of the desk drawers. You hear something clinking and glance over from the corner of your eye. He holds a small glass eyedropper, which he cleans thoroughly with the remaining disinfectant.

“This will make it easier,” he explains. “You really won’t need more than a drop or two.”

“Will…?” You start to ask but you swallow your question down, hoping he’ll be gracious enough to pretend you hadn’t spoken at all.

“Will what, treasure?” He finishes cleaning the eyedropper and dries it off before giving you an expectant look.

“Will it hurt?” The sting of the disinfectant nearly brought you to tears. Another strike of pain would be too much for you to fight through and you were not going to cry. Certainly, not in front of Silco.

“Yes, but it’s an unusual sort of pain,” he explains. “It’s intense, but it’s quick. A bit like someone flashing a bright light in your eyes unexpectedly. Your senses will feel scrambled but, like I said, it’s quick.”

He loads up the eyedropper with just two drops of the violent purple liquid and takes hold of your arm once more. He looks at you, waiting for permission. You nod.

A single shining drop falls from the end of the eyedropper onto your wound. You feel a tingling sensation for a fraction of a moment before something unlike anything you’ve ever felt before wracks through your body. Too much air is crammed into your lungs yet it also feels as though the wind has been knocked from your chest. Your veins feel as though they widening and narrowing, wriggling beneath your skin. It’s unbearable.

And then it’s gone.

You gasp hard and brace on the desk.

“Easy, treasure,” Silco’s voice tethers you to reality.

Your mind scrambles to right itself. You feel exposed, vulnerable. Your anger has failed you so you fight to call forth anything else that will shield you from the terrible weight on your chest and the tightness in your throat.

His quick hands wrap your forearm in soft, clean bandages before you have a chance to see what your wound looks like now. Already, you note the absence of physical pain.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back. You feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of your shirt. Tears spring forth but you quickly scoot off the desk to stand in the middle of the room, out of his reach.

“I’m rather tired.” You keep your back to him as you blink and blink and blink.

“I imagine so.” His boots thud against the wooden floor as he moves to stand behind you but he does not try to touch you again. “You’ve had quite a fright.”

Once again, you feel a tiny spark of your anger ignite but it’s not enough to catch fire and burn away the terrible feeling that creeps in around you. You are not yet in control of your emotions enough to speak, to deny his words.

“Most of the crew is in the same boat as you are, so to speak,” he says. “Waterwyrms are incredibly rare. I’ve only seen three, myself. Seeing something like that for the first time can be rattling.”

“I am not rattled,” you hiss. You clench your hands into fists to hide how much they shake as you move toward the bed. You sit down and fumble with the lacings of your boots until you’re able to shuck them off. “I’m tired.”

For a moment, Silco looks as though he’s going to press the matter. A small part of you, one that you’d like to squash beneath your heel, wishes he would.

He takes a half step back and nods. “Get some sleep, then. You’ve earned it.”

He takes a seat at his desk and goes through the motions of clipping and lighting a fresh cigar. The warm, spiced smell of it banishes the lingering scent of disinfectant and shimmer from the cabin. Something in your chest loosens, but you’re not sure if it’s a good thing.

You slip out of your breeches and crawl under the covers, pressing yourself as close to the wall as you can with your back to Silco. The only sounds in the room are the faint scratching of his pen across parchment and his soft exhales whenever he takes a puff of his cigar. It’s not enough to hold your focus.

Your mind begins to spin again. Your heart slams against your ribs but you tell yourself it’s nothing more than your body responding to the shimmer.

You are not rattled. You are not frightened. You can handle this. You have handled everything life has flung cruelly into your path and you will continue to do so. You will remain in control, just as you always have.

But you know that’s not true. The words float through your mind like a lullaby despite the threat they pose to your quickly fracturing resolve. It’s never been true.

It becomes harder to keep your breathing slow and even. That horrible feeling continues to tighten its grip around your throat, growing stronger and stronger until you fear you won’t be able to break loose. You won’t be able to keep it at bay. You’ll have to feel it and know the truth of it.

You are not rattled. You are not frightened.

You’re terrified.

And the moment you let yourself feel that terror, you’ll be lost.

Fear claws at your throat and sits on your chest, prepared to suffocate you. Already, you can feel it seeping through your skin and stealing your breath.

Fear has come for you before, but you fought it off. It pounced on you the day your mother died but you evaded it, letting grief shield you. It tried to ambush you again the day your father abandoned you at the family estate but your anger was so great and so fierce that fear could not touch you.

Now, your grief was a quiet, content creature resting near your heart alongside the memory of your mother. And your anger…where was it? How could it have abandoned you and left you so vulnerable?

There had to be something you could do. Fear would not reach you this time. It never had and it never will.

Not true. Not true. Not true. The words skitter across your brain, less gentle than they were before.

You fight the urge to scream, choosing to bite the inside of your cheek instead. It's no use. The truth has started to seep through the cracks of your mind and you have nowhere left to run. No place to hide.

How close will you allow yourself to come to madness for the sake of clinging to such a fragile illusion?

You only believed yourself to be capable because you had never faced a true challenge. Now that you had, now that you stared the waterwyrm in the eyes and saw death, you can no longer hide from what you are. A small, scared, stupid girl who doesn’t know a single thing about the world.

You do not have the strength or skills to survive on your own without your father’s money and protection. If you fled your engagement, you might as well forfeit your life. If you allowed yourself to be caged within the gilded bars of marriage and societal expectations, you would never feel alive again.

One way or another, death surrounds you. It does not matter if it’s a death of your body or a death of your spirit. Both are equally devastating in your eyes. There is no escape.

You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood as you keep fighting the cold sense of fear that tries to wrap you in its embrace. You can’t give in to it. You can’t allow yourself to feel it. You’d never be able to pull yourself out if you did. You don’t bother trying to call on your anger to help you keep fear at bay. You realize now that it did not abandon you. You’ve simply burned it all up.

Only the faintest scrap of pride allows you to hold yourself together. If you are going to fall apart, it will not be on this damn ship surrounded by these damn pirates.

You are so caught up in your own mind that you do not realize Silco has moved until you feel the bed shift beside you. You stay still, pretending to be asleep, not that it matters. Aside from your failed attempt to bring yourself some relief last night, Silco keeps his distance from you in bed.

He shifts and rolls a bit before he seems to settle. Thinking he has fallen asleep, you allow your mind to resume its heavy task of stopping your fears from consuming you.

A hand presses against your back. Your breath catches in your throat and it takes every bit of your frayed self-control to keep up the act of pretending to sleep.

“Brave girl,” comes Silco’s soft whisper, so quiet you are unsure if you were meant to hear those words or not.

Warmth spreads across your back, radiating from his palm. If you focus, you can feel the shape of every long, thin finger. It may be exhaustion, the shimmer, or the fact that you had your toe over the line of madness just a moment ago but you swear you feel him pressing against your back with every breath you take. His movements, if he’s moving at all, are slow and faint. When you feel him press, you extend your exhale. When he lightens the pressure, you inhale. Over and over until your breathing slows and your heart calms.

The urge to check if he’s awake or say his name gently pulls at you, but you let it pass. The peace of this moment is a fragile, hard-won thing that you aren’t ready to give up. Besides, if he actually is asleep and this is all in your head, you’d rather keep that to yourself. You continue to breathe slowly, focused on the way his hand feels against your back, and eventually allow sleep to take you.

********

When you wake, you roll over to find an empty bed. You open your eyes, expecting to see Silco sitting at his desk like he usually does but he isn’t there. A small amount of relief fills you. You’re spared from confronting him after…whatever that was last night.

Maybe you sent yourself into such a deep state of distress that you imagined it. But then that means that you imagined him for comfort, which might be worse.

Your mind still feels clouded and sluggish as you dress and leave the cabin. Above deck, the air is still and there is not a cloud in the sky. The Zaun’s Revenge bobs gently on a calm sea. To the west, you spot a strip of land but no distinguishing landmarks that might tell you where you are. Your eyes scan the deck for Silco, but you do not see him. There does not seem to be any work to be done so you head below deck to the galley.

Arlo has already started preparing for the evening meal, causing you to realize just how late you’ve slept in. You offer to help, he accepts. Soon, you are chopping onions. Your eyes burn and your mincing skills leave much to be desired, but your mind is occupied. Plus, you are learning something new. That always makes you feel better, more in control of yourself.

“You seem a bit out of sorts,” Arlo says. “Something on your mind?”

“That waterwyrm has rudely forced me to reexamine my understanding of the world and my place in it,” you answer. “It’s been horribly inconvenient.” “Oh, I see. That happened to me the first time I saw something like that. It wasn’t a waterwyrm, though. The carcass of an ushkya floated to the surface. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“A what?” You hope you won’t regret asking.

“An ushkya. Merfolk use them similar to the way humans use horses. They’re actually quite gentle by nature. I’ve seen a few wild ones before. Their fangs make them look scarier than they are. I’d go as far as to say they’re more docile than horses.”

Your mouth drops open. You regret asking. “I am not in a position to take in that information.”

“Fair. How are you getting along with those onions?”

“Badly, I’m afraid.” You dab at your onion tears with the back of your hand. “I hope you like a bit of a rough chop.”

“It’ll do just fine. You aren’t cooking for the Council,” he chuckles and rests an affirming hand on your shoulder. “Keep at it. I have plenty of work for you when you’re done.”

Time ticks by in the kitchen as you and Arlo take turns teaching each other things. It will be a while before he can read properly, but he knows how certain words look written down, which is an excellent start. The two of you make a plan to redo all of the labels in the scullery. Having a plan like that makes you smile. It’ll keep you occupied during the days and will hopefully make your imprisonment pass quicker.

“Ah, so is this where I can expect to find you when you vanish from the cabin?” At the sound of Silco’s voice, you are flooded with memories of his hand on your back. You can feel the pressure between your shoulders as you turn around to face him.

“If I say yes, does that mean the longboats will be left unattended?” You fire back.

“Glad to see the stress of last night has not dulled your wit. You’re going to need it.”

“Why?”

“We’re going ashore. I have to meet with an associate of mine and I know better than to leave you to your own devices.” A small smirk twitches in the corner of his mouth but it is not accompanied by the usual mean glint in his eye.

“Scared I’ll ambush you with another oar attack, pirate?” You say, moving out of the kitchen with an indifferent look though you are glad to be back in the familiar territory of banter and quick remarks.

“If I remember correctly, I was the one who snuck up on you,” he says.

“But my first instinct was still to give you a good whack,” you point out, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

“True.”

Silco starts to lead you out of the galley but you pause and look over your shoulder.

“Will you get on without me, Arlo?” you ask.

“I’ll be fine. We can start our labeling project when you return if you’re up for it.” Arlo’s gaze darts to Silco and his face pales a little bit. “With the Captain’s permission, of course.”

You turn your head and look up at Silco, arching a brow.

“Hm,” he mutters before ushering you above deck. He lowers his head so his mouth is close to your ear. “Should I be concerned by how well you are ingratiating yourself with my crew?”

“Probably,” you shrug. “Do I need to put on that beloved harlot costume again?”

“Beloved indeed,” he chuckles lowly. “But no. Port Squawkfeather is not quite as…colorful as Port Fairna. You are perfectly fine as you are. Unless, of course, you secretly liked playing the harlot and wish to do so again.”

“Hold your breath and find out.” You smile sweetly before turning your attention to the port in question.

“Ever the charmer.” Silco stands by your side as the Zaun’s Revenge docks and the gangplank is lowered.

Despite its unusual name, Port Squawkfeather looks orderly and clean for a pirate haven. From what you can see, there is some form of authority patrolling the docks and the shore. They bear a discreet insignia that looks strikingly similar to a waterwyrm.

The small port town is clustered on a spit of land between a narrow, pebbly beach and sandstone rock formations that vary in height. A few structures stand on plateaus scattered across the cliff faces, but most of the buildings appear to be concentrated around the mouth of the port.

“What business do you have here?” You ask, glancing at Silco from the corner of your eye. You don’t expect an answer but you can’t help but ask. Silco is certainly making quite a few stops for someone with a valuable hostage underfoot.

“I’m sure you recall the blue stones that served as the waterwyrm’s eyes. I plan to sell them. They are extremely valuable,” he replies. “Even more valuable than you.”

“I am worth less than a pair of glowing rocks?” You scoff.

“These are not just rocks. The power they contain is unlike anything else in the world. Those stones contain pure arcane energy.”

“And you would sell them to the highest bidder?” You arch a brow.

“Of course. I do not have the resources to harness their power myself so I may as well make a profit from them.”

He offers his arm, which you take, and the two of you disembark.

“Are you going to make me sit in your lap in a dingy tavern again?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “You aren’t wearing a skirt. I won’t be able to have any fun.”

His words bring a hot blush to your cheeks. You fix your gaze straight ahead and hope he does not notice. Once more, you feel the ghost of his hand on your back, guiding you through your breaths.

The entrance of the docks feeds into a well-maintained dirt road that leads right to a lively market. Instead of walking down that road, Silco cuts to the left and walks along the shore for a time.

“I hope you can handle a small climb, treasure,” he says before turning off the path onto a thin trail that snakes up the side of a sandstone formation. “I won’t carry you if you feel faint.”

“I’d rather be left in the dust than rely on you to carry me,” you reply, though a touch of worry reaches your heart. You nibbled on a few things while assisting Arlo, but you haven’t had a proper meal since last night’s dinner.

The trail isn’t steep but it snakes back and forth along the side of the cliff, carrying you higher and higher with each twist. The trail dips into a valley dotted with scraggly bushes before traveling up the side of another sandstone formation.

Sweat breaks out across your forehead and your throat feels scratchy and dry, but you don’t say anything. Silco doesn’t seem to be any worse for wear. It’s unlikely he has anything on his person that can relieve your discomfort so there is no point in opening yourself up to ridicule, especially after he saw you in such a vulnerable state last night.

It is a hot day and the air is dry. Your legs ache from walking at an incline for so long. As much as you want to ask Silco for a moment to stop and catch your breath, you push onward.

Each step gives you a frail sense of reassurance.

You aren’t weak. You aren’t helpless. You’re capable.

Even as your lungs burn and sparks tease the corners of your vision, you take comfort in your ability to keep pushing.

You are resilient.

The panic brought on by the waterwyrm was a fluke. A perfectly reasonable lapse in judgment, all things considered.

You are fine. You have always been fine. You will continue to be fine.

Is there not something better than fine? That wicked little voice whispers to you but you shut it out. Now is not the time. You must focus all of your energy on not collapsing on this forsaken trail.

“Steady now, treasure. Our destination is atop the plateau, just there.” Silco seems a little out of breath himself when he gestures to where the path curves just up ahead.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you reply, ignoring the slight wheeze in your voice as you speak. If Silco noticed, he has enough grace to refrain from commenting on it.

You round the bend and the land flattens. Straight ahead, the path extends into a flat stretch that overlooks the port below and the ocean beyond. To the left, there is a small, slapdash house that looks to be made of driftwood, thatch, and other salvaged materials but that isn’t what captures your attention. The trees surrounding the home are filled with brilliant-colored parrots. Their feathers are a deep ruby shade that almost seems unnatural. They chitter and squawk as you and Silco approach. They fix you in their beady gazes but do nothing.

Now you know how Port Squawkfeather got its name.

“Who, exactly, are we meeting?” You ask, moving a little closer to Silco.

“An old associate of mine,” Silco says.

Just before he knocks on the door, another parrot flutters over and perches on a specially-made stand near the door. Unlike the others, this parrot is a deep azure, blue as the sea.

“Oooh, visitors!” It screeches as it flaps its wings. “Get your ass out here, ya drunk!”

“Good heavens,” you chuckle softly at the bird. “I wonder where he learned to say such a thing.”

“You’re about to find out, treasure.”

The door to the driftwood cabin flings open and in the doorway stands the oddest man you have ever seen. Spindly legs support a bloated belly that leads to narrow shoulders and skinny arms. He wears a shirt of bold coral splashed with an assortment of random, vibrant colors that resemble tropical blooms. A hat of woven straw sits atop his head, blocking the sun from a leathery face and brilliant blue eyes that are almost white. He also wears trousers shorn choppily to knee-length. On his feet are sandals that look to be made of the same material as his hat.

“Captain Jimmy,” Silco says with a sense of familiarity and a warm smile. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Damn right, I haven’t!” The man cackles. When Silco extends his hand for a shake, Captain Jimmy pulls him into a tight hug. “Glad to see you aren’t dead, my lad!”

You bite back a laugh at the display. Silco looks like a cat that has just been doused with cold water.

“I could say the same to you.” His discomfort is palpable and you see no reason to intervene. The azure parrot makes a squawking noise that sounds like a human chuckle. You glance at the bird with a fond smile. It gazes back at you as if it can read your thoughts. Its gaze is so intense that you find yourself looking away.

Silco has managed to extract himself from the eccentric man’s embrace. “I’m not here on a social call, I’m afraid. I have something for you.”

“Oh?” Captain Jimmy raises a bushy grey brow before sliding his gaze over to you. “Well, she’s pretty but I don’t deal in that sort of trade. You know that.”

“Oh! No,” Silco shakes his head and stammers. “Not her. She’s a different sort of investment.”

You huff with indignation at his choice of words but say nothing.

“I’d prefer to discuss this inside,” Silco presses.

“Shady deal! Shady deal!” The azure parrot screeches.

“Hush now, Barnaby!” Captain Jimmy snaps. “I know damn well Captain Silco brings me nothing but shady deals. You needn’t insult me by stating the obvious.”

The parrot looks abashed. You did not know a parrot could convey such an expression.

“Come in,” Captain Jimmy steps to the side and ushers you and Silco into his home.

The inside of the small home reminds you of Silco’s cabin. It is crammed to the gills with interesting baubles, trinkets, and artifacts.

You try to hide your surprise when Captain Jimmy waits for the blue parrot, Barnaby, to fly into the sitting room. The parrot settles on a perch in the corner of the room.

“You look thirsty, lass,” Captain Jimmy says to you. “May I offer you a refreshment?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” you say, summoning your most charming smile. Once Captain Jimmy has moved out of sight, you turn to Silco. “You should take notes in regards to manners.”

“Oh, I think I’ve been more than generous with you, treasure,” he murmurs with a glimmer in his eye. “At least, that’s the impression I got when you screamed my name-”

“Hush!” You snap just before Captain Jimmy returns carrying two hollowed-out coconuts.

“One for you and one for me, lass,” he grins, showing off several missing teeth.

“You’re too kind,” you say as you take in the fruity fragrances of the drink he offered. You take a sip and can’t help but sigh at the sensation of sweet flavors exploding on your tongue. “Oh, this is lovely! What is it?”

“A carefully curated and blended assortment of fruit juices from the surrounding land. Though it looks rather barren, this place is a treasure trove of natural wonder.” “Oh, I’m sure,” you nod as you take another deep sip of the delicious juice. “I can’t imagine those parrots would stick around otherwise.” Through the window, you can see clusters of ruby-red parrots chirping at each other and fluttering their striking wings.

“True enough!” Captain Jimmy cackles. “Shame I can’t get rid of this one.” He jerks a thumb toward Barnaby, who fluffs up his feathers as though he’s heard every word.

“Old bastard,” Barnaby croaks.

“Waste of poultry,” Captain Jimmy fires back.

Before you can comment on the odd exchange, Silco speaks up.

“As much as I’d like to chat, I am here for a reason.” He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a pouch. You recognize the faint blue glow bleeding through the fabric. “What sort of trouble have you brought me now?” Captain Jimmy grumbles as he sets down his hollow coconut. You sip at your drink while Silco spills the two glowing blue stones into his palm.

“We ran into a waterwyrm and got these for our trouble,” he says. “Any chance you can give me gold in exchange for them?”

Captain Jimmy thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “No gold but I have a decent trade, I believe. Let me see.” He gets to his feet and walks toward an empty wall before pulling down a sheet of canvas covered in writing. There is so much information and you struggle to understand what you read.

You see a list of creatures listed out in a neat collum, the waterwyrm among them. When it is all laid out in front of you, you understand. The night in the tavern at Port Fairna, you believed Silco and his associates to be speaking in code. Now, you realize you were mistaken. Every mythical creature you heard mentioned that night is plastered on the canvas in front of you. If the waterwyrm is real, you cannot deny that the others must be real, too.

So, what does that make Silco? Is he a pirate? Does he poach creatures of myth for money? Is he more than that? Is he less than that?

“They’re all real?” You murmur softly, more to yourself than either of the men as you take another refreshing sip of the sweet juice.

“All these?” Captain Jimmy responds, rapping his bony knuckles against the canvas sheet. “Of course!” He shoots Silco a withering look. “Have you taught her nothing?”

“She has a talent for learning things on her own,” Silco replies.

You are too caught up in reading the list of creatures to throw a verbal barb back at Silco. At first, you’re pleased that you recognize most of the creatures listed from studying various mythologies but you quickly withdraw your enthusiasm.

After witnessing the waterwyrm, nothing should give you much of a shock but seeing just how many fairytales are actually true makes you feel uneasy. That horrible feeling of uncertainty and imbalance squeezes at your throat again. Your breath comes a little quicker but you hide it by taking quick sips of your drink. You feel lightheaded but you are determined to breathe through it.

“Would you like another drink, lass?” Captain Jimmy offers.

“Yes, thank you,” you say. “It is quite a trek to get to your hidden abode.”

Captain Jimmy takes your hollow coconut to refill it. When he’s out of sight, Silco places his hand over yours.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Just tired. Out of breath. I’m not used to walking over such challenging terrain,” you say. Silco’s good eye narrows just a touch and you can tell he doesn’t fully believe you. Before he can press the matter, Captain Jimmy returns.

“Here you are, lass. Careful now,” he cautions. “Few can handle more than three servings of my juice.”

“Why is that?” You ask before taking a long sip, allowing the sweetness to settle your nerves.

“Well, I mix it with the most potent rum found west of Ionia,” he replies. “It’s not for the faint of heart nor drink.”

You swallow your last swig and summon a smile. “Is that so? I can’t taste anything other than fruit juice.”

“That’s the trick of it,” Captain Jimmy lets out a wheezing laugh. “It sneaks up on you.”

“May we return to business, please?” Silco cuts in, a soft snarl in his voice. You fall silent, more than happy to let the attention move away from you.

Barnaby flutters over, his wings creating small gusts that send your loose hair flying.

“Drink up, pretty one,” he chitters. “Drink up!”

“You are a very clever bird,” you murmur to him. “Do you like to be pet?”

“Pretty lady pet pretty bird.”

“Oh, I see,” you chuckle softly and run a fingertip over Barnaby’s sapphire head. He rumbles softly as you lavish affection upon him.

“I don’t have enough gold to buy a mermaid’s wish, but I can arrange a trade.”

At the word mermaid, you return your attention to the conversation between Captain Jimmy and Silco. Silco’s upper lip twitches as he shakes his head.

“I need gold, Jimmy. I can’t go through the trouble of trade after trade,” he says.

Captain Jimmy frowns. “Then I can’t help you today, old friend. I can check up on some old contacts but you know that will take time.”

Silco goes silent for a moment. He looks at his hands as he appears to be lost in thought. After a while, he looks up. “No trades, but I will leave one wish with you and see if I can’t put the other to use.”

“Wish?” You blurt without thinking.

Silco turns to you with an expression of annoyance. “I’ll explain it later, treasure. Finish your drink. There is no reason to linger here.”

“Are you sure?” Captain Jimmy says. “You look like you could use a drink, Silco.”

“You aren’t wrong, but now that you’ve given my companion two servings of your special juice, I need to ensure she gets back to the ship safely.”

“I’m fine!” You protest with a frown.

“Oh? Stand up for me,” Silco challenges.

With a haughty sigh, you do as he asks. The moment you are standing tall, the world spins. You wobble and make several futile attempts to right yourself before Silco reaches out to steady you.

You are thoroughly drunk. That damn juice was more deceptive than your captor.

“What is it with pirates and their inability to offer any drinks that aren’t spiked with something or other?” You grumble as you finish off the last of your drink. You’re already sauced. There is no sense in letting it go to waste. You do not wish to be a rude guest.

“Why do you keep drinking things without checking to see what’s in them? That seems like the better question from where I stand,” Silco says.

“I never had to think about that until now,” you huff.

“She’s a bit of a mess, isn’t she?” Barnaby asks, looking at Captain Jimmy with an almost human level of intelligence.

“What did that bird just say?” you whisper to Silco. The rum obviously had more of an effect on you than you realized.

“You’re a mess,” the blue parrot repeats.

“Now, see here-”

“Treasure, you do realize you’re about to argue with a parrot, right?” Silco gently takes hold of your chin and redirects your gaze so you are looking into his eyes.

“Right,” you stammer, giving your head a little shake. “You’re right. I apologize.”

“You’re fine, lass. The rum is strong and Barnaby likes to provoke,” Captain Jimmy says before turning to Silco. “I’ll contact you if I get any gold for your mermaid’s wish. Don’t hold your breath, though. Very few have that kind of gold.”

“You know me, Jimmy. I always have to try,” Silco says. “Besides, I still have the other one. I can make something of this.”

“If anyone can, it’s you. Heading out, I suppose?”

“I should get this one to a place where she can’t get into trouble,” Silco says, giving you a gentle nudge.

“Let the pretty mess stay,” Barnaby squawks before landing close to you. You reach out and gently pet his head. He blinks slowly and leans into your touch.

“We have to catch the tide,” Silco says. “I’ll be in touch, Captain.”

“Of course!”

Captain Jimmy waves you off with a flourish as Silco helps you down the trail leading away from the slapdash homestead.

“Is it just me or is something off about that parrot?” You whisper as you lean on Silco, allowing him to guide you.

He looks over his shoulder and takes a few more steps before whispering back to you, “just between you and me, I think Barnaby is a man trapped in a parrot’s body.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “You’re joking, surely.”

“He’s always been more vocal than the other parrots and he doesn’t seem to mimic phrases. Captain Jimmy specializes in trading rare goods. A parrot with the intelligence of a man would fall into that category.”

“Oh, that makes me uneasy.”

The sandstone landscape pitches and you cling to Silco to keep yourself upright. “Why didn’t you warn me about the juice?”

“Honestly? I figured you needed a drink after your ordeal last night. I didn’t think you’d gulp it down and asked for seconds. That’s not very heiress-like of you.”

“I was parched after the trek up here!” You protest. “Of course, I was thirsty.”

Silco chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re right. I miscalculated. I should have said something. But how do you feel?”

You go still and pay attention to your body. Your limbs feel loose and your mind is pleasantly fuzzy. You know there are many things you should feel stressed about but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“This is a nice respite from coherent thought, I won’t lie,” you admit.

It is later in the day that you initially realized. The late afternoon sun has broken through a thin patch of clouds and now shines on the ocean, turning the water into liquid gold. You move toward the light, forcing Silco to follow you. You do not even notice the edge of the plateau until he prevents you from moving forward and pulls you closer to him.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t fall to your death, treasure,” he says, his voice low and velvety.

“How gallant,” you murmur back. Your gaze settles on the dark silhouette of the Zaun’s Revenge, bobbing peacefully against the dock. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you sure? Last time I brought up this particular subject I’m certain you envisioned all the ways you could end my life.”

“Now you’ve made me truly curious. Out with it.”

What you thought was a confident question evaporates on your tongue and you’re left scrambling for words through a fruity rum haze.

“The life you’ve given Jinx is a life I would kill to have. You, and those serving on your ship, have the freedom that so many dream of. Why would you work against that in search of what you think is a real home?”

Silco stiffens at your words and you worry you’ve pinched a nerve but he eventually lets out a long sigh.

“Why do you think we are free?” He asks.

“I spent many years at sea with my father. During those years, I felt the most free. I felt like my true self.”

“But during those years, did you not have an estate you could return to whenever you pleased?”

“Well, yes,” you answer. “But I do not like the family estate.”

“Whether you like it or not is irrelevant.” A sharp edge sneaks into his voice. “When you played at being a seafarer, there was always a safe option. You could return to a plush home filled with luxuries.”

“But I didn’t want to,” you reiterate.

“But you were also never in real danger,” Silco points out. “Jinx has no other home. She has nowhere to flee if things become too dangerous. If something happens to me, no one will go out of their way to make sure she’s okay. We need to have a place away from the ship, away from everything we do. I need to give her a home that can never be taken from her, even if something happens to me.”

A horrible sense of guilt fills you. Shame colors your cheeks as you watch the golden water dance.

“I didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry,” you say. When Silco says nothing for a long while, a horrible feeling makes your stomach twist up in knots. “It’s good of you to want Jinx to have a safe haven to flee to. Will my ransom go toward that?”

Your question seems to catch him off guard.

“In a way,” he answers. “There are some debts to be paid and some investments to be made, but yes. Your ransom will put us closer to a safe home.”

“And the stone eye from the waterwyrm? What will that do for you?” You ask.

“Eventually, Captain Jimmy will find someone prepared to pay its worth in gold. I expect that will take months, even years. But those profits will go towards making a safe haven for me and mine.”

“But there are two stones. What will you do with the other one?”

Silco looks down at you with a faint smile. “I think you’ve had a little bit too much rum to worry about my trade. We need to head back to the ship. We already docked far later in the day than I would have liked.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Yes, I am,” he grins as he guides you back down the trail. He keeps you close as you navigate the winding path, hugging the sandstone formation. You wobble and trip over your own feet often but he never gives you grief for it. At most, he chuckles and tucks you under his arm more securely.

“Why did you call those glowing stones mermaid’s wishes?” You ask.

“Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other, treasure,” Silco urges. “I can’t have you tumbling down a canyon. It’s bad enough you were injured when the waterwyrm made its appearance.”

“Oh, do you care about me, pirate?” You taunt.

“If I have to trek through a valley to find you when you fall victim to your carelessness, I’ll have to carry you back to the ship. If I have to do that, I’ll miss the opportunity to scope the market. That’s bad for business. I dislike practices that are bad for business.”

“Lucky for you, I enjoy exploring markets more than I enjoy falling into valleys,” you say, though you need his constant support as you navigate the thin trail toward Port Squawkfeather.

The sun is just barely kissing the horizon when you and Silco reach the market. He browses silently with a look of deep concentration nestled between his furrowed brows. You stay quiet, not wishing to interrupt him as you take in your surroundings.

As you pass a table filled with exotic fruits, Silco stops. He picks up a pomegranate and inspects it as though he were assessing a diamond.

“One crate, please,” he says to the shopkeeper, who looks both shocked and delighted at such a request. They quickly set about packaging an entire crate of pomegranates while you stare at the one Silco holds in his hand.

Pomegranates are your favorite. Your rum-addled mind can’t conjure a more enticing prize.

“Here, treasure.” Silco tosses the pomegranate to you and you manage to catch it. You bring it to your chest like some greedy little scavenger as he gives the vendor the information they need.

You marvel at the color of the fruit like it’s some kind of precious jewel. You are so absorbed in your examination that your mind barely registers the flash of pink in the corner of your eye.

You go still. You lift your gaze. You turn your head slowly until you spot someone familiar.

Violet. Captain Vander’s first mate. You recognize her hair and her steely demeanor. She does not face you directly, but she is clearly searching the market for signs of you. She must have seen the Zaun’s Revenge docked and idle.

Beside her is a slender young woman with a shiny sheet of deep blue hair. She clutches a pristine rifle in her hands as she scans the market with sharp eyes.

For a split second, you prepare to call out to them. They can take you back to Vander, back to your father. But the words get stuck in your throat.

You look at Silco as he arranges for the crate of pomegranates to be delivered to his ship. You hear his words about wanting a safe place for Jinx echo through your mind. Your ransom will help with that.

“Captain,” you murmur softly. Your tongue feels like lead as you tug on his sleeve.

“Treasure?” He looks at you, arching a brow.

“I…feel ill from that juice. I’d like to return to the ship, please.”

His ocean eye fills with sympathy before he gives you a quick nod. He gives instructions to the fruit seller before tucking you under his arm and guiding you back toward the docks.

“I shouldn’t have let you have that second drink,” he says quietly.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you say. “Perhaps Arlo can funnel some solid food into my system and give me some water.”

“I’m sure he can,” Silco nods.

You are returned to the ship and quickly disappear below deck. You flee to the galley under the guise of helping Arlo, as you promised. You do just that, but as you work on making new labels for everything in the scullery, you can’t help but wonder if you made a mistake not seizing your chance to escape. Worse than that, you wonder why you didn’t want to seize such a chance in the first place.

#silco #arcane #silco x reader #arcane silco #silco arcane #silco fanfic #pirate!silco #silco fic #to the depths #silco smut

129 notes · View notes

m-jelly · 8 months

Text

Tea for two - Chapter 5

Pairing: Post-war Levi x Fem!Reader

Tags and warnings: Canon world, post-war, injured Levi, scarred Levi, romance, falling in love, fluff, angst, emotional pain, emotional Levi, foreplay, handjob.

In this chapter: You meet the remaining scouts and the two kids Levi took under his wing for a bit. You have a picnic together and enjoy some time together. You and Levi have a moment in his bedroom. You shower him in love and touch him as he touches your chest. You finish the day with some time in the sea.

AO3 Link

Part 6

The sea breeze drifted through your hair and dress as you waited patiently for the ship to dock. Gabi, Flaco and the remaining scouts Levi had cared for were arriving together to spend time, catch up and have a few things to eat and drink. Nerves were firing through you because this was the closest you got to Levi introducing you to his family. First impressions were important and you were going to do your best to get them to like you.

“LEVIIII!”

Levi waved to Gabi hanging off the railing and Falco trying to pull her back. “Tch, damn kids.”

You smiled a little. “She’s energetic.”

“She is.” He let out a long sigh. “She’s not bad.”

You gulped hard. “I hope they like me.”

“They will.”

You shifted on your feet. “So, it’s Gabi, Falco, Connie, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, Annie and Reiner?”

He rubbed your back. “You got it.”

“Annie and Armin are a couple.”

“Yes.”

You gulped again. “And Annie was the female titan.”

“Yes.”

You gazed at Levi. “Are you going to be okay?”

He released a long sigh. “I won’t stop a man in love.”

“You’re a good man, but she put you through so much pain.” You kissed his cheek. “You shouldn’t punish yourself.”

He looked at you. “I can do it because I have you here.”

You bumped against him. “you’re cute.”

“I love you.”

You kissed him. “Love you too.” You looked down at Bo wearing his best collar. “They like dogs, right?”

Levi chuckled. “They’ll love Bo.”

“Hope so.”

Gabi ran off the boat and towards Levi. “Levi!” She hugged him tightly. “You’re out of your chair!”

Levi smiled. “Yeah. Tch, you’re loud.”

“Sorry.” She giggled. “It’s good to see you.”

Falco jogged over and panted. “Sorry, Levi.”

Levi smiled. “I don’t mind. Was the journey okay?”

“It was good. We’re trying to build up a friendship with Armin and the others. One day at a time.”

“Well, at least you’re trying.”

Reiner walked over and clenched up a little at seeing the man who stabbed him through the neck long ago. “Captain.”

Levi nodded. “Reiner.” He pulled his gaze away and smiled at the others. “Welcome, Armin, Mikasa, Connie, Jean and…Annie…” He gazed at Armin and could still see the sparkle of hope in his eyes. “Glad you could make it. You here to stay for a while?”

Armin nodded. “We miss Paradis and it is rough going backwards and forwards a lot for political reasons.”

“You’re doing great. I am proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Armin blushed a little. “I just want to help.”

Jean gazed at you with a little blush on his cheeks. “Hi.”

You smiled brightly. “Hello!”

Levi noticed and pulled you over to him. “This wonderful lady that Jean has noticed is very important to me.” He softly said your name. “She’s my everything.”

Connie laughed. “Our Captain has a girlfriend!”

Mikasa’s eyes widened. “Huh, interesting.”

You smiled and bowed to them. “Lovely to meet you all.”

“How did you meet?”

You looked at Levi. “Levi hired me to work at his shop and over the months together we fell for each other.”

Gabi gasped. “That’s romantic.”

You petted Bo’s head. “This is Bo. He’s a friendly smart dog.”

Levi cleared his throat. “He helps me out. He guides me often.”

Jean reached over and petted Bo. “He’s cute.”

Levi introduced everyone to you. “Shall we get going? My girlfriend has made a wonderful lunch for us all.” He winked at you. “Lead the way.”

You grinned. “Okay!”

Levi walked over to the group. "Listen here, you little shits, this is my last order ever. You treat that goddess of a woman there with fucking respect or I'll rip your spines out. She's my world. Got it?"

Armin smiled. “We understand.”

Falco welled up a little. “We’re happy for you.”

Levi blushed a little. “Thanks. Let’s get moving. I don’t want to keep my love waiting.” He limped a little fast to catch up with you.

Mikasa hummed. “I never would have thought the grumpy Captain would have a girlfriend.”

Annie glanced over. “He might be holding her hostage.”

Armin laughed nervously. “Annie, they’re in love.”

Jean put his hands in his pockets. “I think it’s great. Means there is hope for us all.”

Reiner’s eyes widened. “Maybe I should talk to Historia.”

Connie groaned. “Give up on her. She has a lover and a kid.”

Levi slipped inside his home and watched you hurry around. “Darling, do you need help?”

You smiled at him as you moved around. “I’m okay.”

“Darling.”

You walked over to him and kissed him. “It’s all okay. You should lead your friends to the garden. I have lots of blankets all setup and a chair for you.”

He let out a long sigh. “Thank you. I’ll go herd the group.”

You hummed a laugh. “Wonderful. I’ll be out in a bit.”

Levi held your hips and kissed you. “I love you.”

“Love you always.”

He released you and limped outside and unlocked the side gate. “Tch, oi! You lot! Over here.” He stepped to the side and sighed as they all came in. “Take your shoes off before you lie down on the blankets. Also, be polite and eat everything that is given to you.”

You walked out with a tray and a smile. “I have lemonade and I made too much food. I’ll bring everything out. I hope you’re hungry.”

Armin walked over to you and took the tray. “We’re starving. Thank you.”

You released the tray and smiled. “Thank you. I’ll get the rest.”

Connie jumped to his feet. “I’ll help.”

Jean got up as well. “I’ll help, you might end up hurting yourself.”

You hummed a laugh. “I don’t mind the help.” You turned and walked to the door. “I have three more trays of things to bring out.”

Connie ran over. “Coming!”

Jean strolled over. “Happy to help.”

You hummed a laugh as you set up the trays. “Connie, could you take the ones with savoury things on and Jean could you take this one with baked breads? I’ll take in the sweets.”

“Did you make all this?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“It looks incredible.” He smiled at you. “You’re very talented.”

You giggled. “Thank you so much.”

Jean flinched when he heard a growl. He turned around to see Levi. “Captain.”

Levi gave him a deadpan look. “Chatting up my girlfriend, huh?”

“I-I was just complimenting her.”

You smiled. “Boys? Could you take all of that out? I need to talk to Levi.”

Levi nibbled his lip. “Darling.”

You put your tray down and walked up to Levi. “Grumpy.” You cupped his face. “I love you.”

He whined. “I know you do and I love you as well.” He sighed. “It’s just, he’s young and handsome.”

“He’s much younger than me, too young. Plus, I didn’t even notice his looks.”

“Okay…”

You hugged Levi tightly. “You’re so cute sometimes.” You pulled back and smiled. “Let’s go spend time with your friends, or should I call them your adopted kids.”

Levi chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

You picked up the tray. “Let’s go.”

He limped with you and walked out into the nice sun and enjoyed how lively it was outside. He smiled softly as you seemed to get on well with everyone. His heart raced as you took a mother-like role with them all. He knew that he was going to have the perfect life with you.

Levi held the shorts in his hands as he whined a little. He was happy to do the swimming therapy and he didn’t care that the scouts were still around and they were going to join in the beach date, he was just worried about you seeing how bad the scars were on his leg. He hung his head a little in shame. He wanted you so badly to keep loving him, but he didn’t think this scar made him loveable.

“Levi?”

Levi looked up at you and admired your swim costume, the one-piece looked incredible on your figure. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You walked closer to him. “Are you worried about something?”

“My leg doesn’t look the best.”

You knelt in front of him and placed your hands on his thighs. “I love you, Levi. You’re perfect to me.”

He smiled at you. “I love you.”

You leaned up and kissed him. “Let me help you change.”

“O-Okay.”

You shuffled on your knees and stopped between his legs. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt. “I worry about my body too. I know I shouldn’t compare, but it is hard.”

He smiled. “I like that I don’t feel alone. I like that we share the same feelings and emotions.”

You hummed a laugh. “I’m happy we have each other as well.”

He watched you closely. “I have marks on me from the old gear we used.”

“I have marks on me as well. Stretch marks mainly.”

“Beautiful stripes.”

You blushed. “Thank you.” You opened his shirt and gasped at seeing his muscles and a very light dusting of black chest hair on his pecs and a tempting treasure trail. “Fuck…” You reached over and lightly touched his chest. “So warm and soft.”

Levi whined a little and said your name. “You feel nice.”

You looked up at him. “You’re so handsome.”

He gasped and shivered when your fingers trailed down his abs. He moaned your name. “I love you.”

You leaned up and kissed him as you ran both your hands over his body. “I love you too.” You kissed along his jawline to his neck. “I love you so much.”

Levi moaned as you bit and sucked on his neck. He shivered as he felt a sensation inside him that he’d never felt before with anyone except you, pure arousal. Levi hadn’t really thought about sex before, but his head was flooded with thoughts of making love to you. He wanted to hear you pant and moan his name. He wanted to fill you and explore you. He wanted to get to know every single inch of you.

Levi grabbed your upper arms. “Ah, w-wait.”

“Something wrong?”

He shifted a little. “I uh…”

You noticed him glance down before looking away. “Do you have an erection?”

He nodded shyly. “I do.”

“That’s okay. That happens when you like someone.” You reached for his belt and played with it. “I have a suggestion, but only if you’re comfortable.”

“S-Sure.”

“I’ll touch you so you get used to intimacy and you can touch a part of me.”

He gulped hard. “I’d love that.”

You got up and walked to the door. You locked it and approached Levi. “Can you sit against the headboard?”

Levi shifted on the bed and sat up against the headboard as you asked. He purred as you crawled closer to him and straddled him. He shivered as you sat on his thighs. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“So, getting used to touch and intimacy, right?”

You nodded and reached up. “I’ll introduce you to my breasts and I’ll touch your umm dick.” You undid his belt. “That okay?”

He nodded. “Y-Yes. Ah, what if I don’t look good…”

“You’ll look amazing.” You pulled his zip down and pushed your hand into his boxers. “Ah.” You pulled Levi’s erection out and marvelled at how it looked. He was just above average length but his thickness was impressive. You tilted your head as you studied his blood-filled tip and then the veins that wrapped around his shaft and pulsed with each beat of his heart. “Pretty.”

Levi blushed. “Wh-what?”

You looked up at him. “You have a pretty cock.”

“Mm…thank you.” He blushed harder. He grunted when you moved your hand on him a little. “You f-feel nice.”

You released Levi. “Oh, for you.” You reached up to the top of your swim costume. You pulled it down and shifted your breasts out. You looked up to see Levi’s eyes were wide as he gazed at them. “You can touch them.”

He reached up with shaky hands. “I umm…”

You took his hands and placed them on your breasts. “Gentle with your touch. Massage a bit.”

Levi gripped your breasts and admired how parts were spilling between his fingers. “So soft, warm, squishy and plump.” He moved his thumb over your nipples making you shiver. “These sensitive?”

You moaned a little. “Yes.”

Levi smiled at you. “I’m glad I can make you feel good.”

You wrapped your hand around Levi’s cock and started moving your hand up and down on him. You panted and moaned as he massaged your breasts. You leaned closer and kissed Levi softly at first as your feelings were soft and delicate, but passion started to burn. Your teeth tugged on his bottom lip making Levi growl. You smiled a little at him before opening your mouth and accepting his tongue into your mouth.

Levi was in heaven as you touched his cock. He had touched himself before, but it was so rare that he did. Whenever he got a hard-on he would just touch himself to get it over with and relieve himself. He gripped your breasts a bit tighter as he moaned in delight. He couldn’t believe how incredible it felt to be touched by you. Your hand was so warm and your scent was wrapping him up tightly and made him feel so loved.

Levi was so madly and deeply in love with you. He bucked a little against your hand as he squeezed your breasts. He pulled from your lips as he panted and moaned your name. He tapped his forehead against yours and moaned your name again. He tilted his head and kissed your neck. He ragged his lips up and down your neck and felt so much pleasure in being with you. He dragged his tongue up your neck as he let his instincts take over. He opened his mouth and bit your neck a little to make sure there would be a mark to prove you were his. He sucked your neck right after biting.

You moaned in pleasure at Levi sucking on your neck. You couldn’t believe how delicate Levi was being. His bites were dominating but controlled. He was showing you all the passion and love he had for you in just a small and intimate moment. He moaned a little as precum leaked from his tip. He was going to say something about it being dirty but you kept moving your hand and rubbing your thumb over his tip.

Levi pulled back from your neck and leaned his head back as he panted and moaned in pleasure. “F-Fuck.”

“This feel good?”

He nodded and whimpered. “I love it.” He grunted at your touch. “I think I’m going to cum.”

“Cum for me.”

He huffed and mewled. “I don’t w-want to get you m-messy.”

“It’s okay, I’ll clean it.” You kissed him over and over. “Cum for me. Enjoy yourself.”

He grunted and thrust into your hand. “I love you.”

You smiled at him. “Love you too.”

He massaged and gripped your breasts. “You’re so wonderful and perfect.” He shivered in delight. “Shit.” He threw his head back as his chest rose and fell heavily. “A-ah.” He looked at you with hooded eyes and moaned your name. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Levi.”

Levi moaned as he came at your sweet words. “Ngh, ah, ha, ha, mmm.” He bucked against your hand as his cum covered his pecs and abs. “Fuck.”

You pulled back and admired Levi with a light frosting on his body. “You look incredible.”

“Th-thank you.”

You kissed him and purred in delight. “I’ll clean you up, wait here.”

“Y-Yes.”

You climbed off the bed and hurried to the bathroom. You cleaned your hands and tucked your breasts away. You grabbed a wet cloth and hurried back to Levi. “Let’s get you cleaned up, handsome.”

Levi smiled as he watched you. “Thank you.”

You hummed a laugh. “You’re so handsome and cute.”

“Thank you.”

You nuzzled your nose against his. “How do you feel?”

He blushed a little. “I feel great. I’ve never…that was a first for me. I mean, I have touched myself in the past but I didn’t think of anyone.” He watched you tuck him away. “I really liked it. Loved it. However, you didn’t feel good.”

“I did. You touched me so nicely.”

He reached over and touched your boob. “I’m glad, but still.”

You wrapped your arms around Levi’s neck and kissed him. “How about next time I show you how to touch me?”

He smiled and nodded. “I want that. I want to be good in bed. I know we’ll lead up to sex, but I need to get to know your body.”

“I’ll help you get to know every inch of me.”

He growled a little. “I’m looking forward to it.”

You picked up his shorts. “Ready to change?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

You helped him take his shirt off and paused a moment. “Do you want me to help with your trousers?”

“Please. My leg aches a bit.”

You pulled his belt off and undid his trousers. You helped Levi out of his trousers and then his boxers. You stood up and gazed at Levi standing naked before you. Your heart raced in your chest as you admired his handsome body. “You look incredible.”

He smiled a little. “Even my leg?”

You looked at the large scars on his left leg. “Yes.” You knelt in front of him and covered his leg in kisses. “You’re wonderful.”

Levi blushed when you looked up at him. He looked away and groaned. “Tch, looking at me like that and kissing my leg…”

You giggled and shifted his legs and pulled his shorts up. “They okay?”

He looked back at you and nodded. “Comfy.”

You kissed him and smiled. “Good.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “I adore you.”

You hugged him back. “Me too. You’re my everything.”

Levi cupped your face and kissed you. “I feel relaxed because of your touch. Thank you.” He kissed you again and sighed through his nose. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and moaned in delight. “I want to be with you always.”

“I promise we will be.”

He held you. “I don’t want to go out there to swim. I just want to hold you here.”

You hummed a laugh. “I want that too, but you have to get your exercise in for your leg.”

He pouted. “Yeah…”

You held his hand and pulled him along. “Come on.” You led him to the door and unlocked it. “Plus, those lovely kids are waiting for you.”

He blushed a little. “You’re right.”

You hummed a laugh. “We can do it.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you need your cane?”

He shook his head. “I need you, that’s all.”

“So cute.” You pulled him against you and walked with him down the hall of his sweet cottage and outside. You followed the path and saw the scouts playing with Bo on the beach. “What a lovely thing to see.”

Levi chuckled. “Yeah, it’s wonderful.” He gulped hard. “We’ll get this when we have kids, right?”

“Right.” You kissed Levi’s cheek. “I look forward to those days.”

He gripped you a little and stopped in his tracks. “I umm…I don’t know about this.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I’m okay with you seeing me…but…these lot.”

You stood between the scouts and Levi. “We can be away from them.”

He hummed and hugged you. “I guess.”

“Are you worried that they’ll pity you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I hate it when people pity me.”

You sighed. “I can’t say how they will act, react or feel. All I can say is, I think you are wonderful and these kids have known you for a long time. All of those kids have their own scars. They care about you, about us. It’ll be okay.”

Levi nodded. “You’re right. It’ll be okay.”

You winked at him and then pulled him down to the beach. You got into the water a bit before turning around and facing Levi. You held his hands and walked backwards. “Bit at a time.”

He whined a bit as he walked into the water. “Bit at a time.”

You kissed his hands. “We’ll have a bath together after this.”

He gazed at you. “Together? You’ll be sharing the bath with me?”

“If you want me to.”

He smiled softly. “I want that.”

You kissed his hands. “Wonderful. It’ll be nice.”

He gasped as the water hit his upper thighs. “Mm.”

“Do you want to stop for a moment?”

He shook his head. “N-No, I’ve got this.”

“You’re doing great.” You smiled softly. “Just perfect. I’m proud of you.”

He smiled at you. “Thank you.” He walked closer to you and pressed his body against yours. “You’re warm.”

You hummed a laugh. “Thank you.” You pulled him further into the water and started swimming backwards. “How does it feel?”

“Nice. This water is different from normal water. The salt in it helps me float a little.”

“Is it easier on your joints?”

“Yes.” He smiled at you. “Thank you.”

You lowered yourself down in the water. “Can you swim?”

“Yes.” He shifted in the water and chuckled. “It’s a lot easier. We should do this more often.”

You giggled. “Yes.”

Levi swam after you but you kept swimming away. “Get back here.”

You laughed. “You just have to catch me.”

He growled. “I will get you.”

You swam a distance away and waited for him. “If you swim to me, I’ll give you a kiss and a cuddle.”

Levi swam fast towards you and dove into your arms. “Easy.”

You hugged him tightly. “Perfect.”

He crashed his lips against yours and sighed. “I’ll always catch you. You’ll never leave me.”

You giggled. “I never will leave you. You’re all mine.”

“I love that.” He sighed. “I love you.”

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damn-stark · 7 months

Text

Chapter 22 Paradise

(Not my gif, credits to the editor)

Chapter 22 of Moonlight

A/N- Okay this is one of my favorite chapters I’ve written! I hope you guys like it!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF, blood! Talks of death! Another cliffhanger, SPOILERS for future events of HOTD!!!!

Pairing- Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader, Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x09, events based off of Fire and Blood

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

It’s been so long. Almost ten years. And he hasn’t aged a day, he looks like you last saw him.

Then again…where are you? Heaven?

Could be…but it’s doubtful you’d actually be allowed in it after what you’ve done. So is it either one of the seven hells?

No…you're on a ship, the same one you took to Dragonstone from Kings Landing for the first time. Plus the sky is clear, the waters are calm, and there's a hue to your surroundings that makes it seem as if this wasn’t real. But it has to be right? You are dead? And you are seeing your father.

He looks so real.

“Father,” you greet him with relief instead of confusion this time and don’t wait a moment longer to break into a sprint to be able to throw your arms around his neck. “Father,” you repeat again in a shaky voice as happy tears fill your eyes.

Whatever this is, you’re happy to be in it.

“Hello my sweet darling girl,” he greets as he rubs your back.

You can’t hold back, you cry into his shoulder. “I missed you,” you mewl. “So much.”

“Oh, I missed you too,” he says before he pulls back and grabs your shoulders. “Look at you.”

You slowly meet his gaze and scoff. You’re a crying mess there’s no way you look presentable.

“You’re a woman grown,” he points out with a smile. “Last I saw you, you were a rebellious little girl. Then again it seems you haven’t grown out of your rebellious phase.” He chuckles softly.

You wipe the tears off your cheeks and chuckle. “You look the same,” you let him know.

He grins. “It happens here.”

You furrow your eyebrows and look around the endless sea. And only realize now that the ship is being navigated by no one, besides your father and you, the deck is empty. Only making you more confused.

“Where is here exactly?” You ask and step back to continue to study the open sky.

“You tell me,” he retorts, making you groan with discontent that he isn’t clear. “We’re on this ship. On the open sea. Why did you come here?”

Is this…a dream? A fever dream?

“I,” you stop and turn around to face him again. He meets your gaze before he walks to the side of the boat, you slowly follow him and finally look at your chest where the sword had stabbed you.

However, there’s nothing there. You’re not wearing your armor, you’re wearing a light purple summer gown, with jewelry inspired by your Velaryon house. It's like you’re prepared for your funeral pyre. So…what is this?

“I guess it’s because we both liked the sea,” you murmur your response, but you still lie in confusion. “But I still don’t understand if this is in my head?” You ask with a hint of disappointment when you finally reach your father's side.

“Well,” he sighs. “I suppose that question is complicated. I’m everywhere and nowhere all at once.”

You squint your eyes and shake your head. “I don’t get it,” you mumble. “Am I dead or not?”

Your father leans over the railing and sighs. “No. Not yet at least…you’re in a state of in-between. You got lucky, that sword didn’t hit anything vital.”

You hum and drop your head as more tears escape out of your eyes. “What about Addam?”

“You know,” your father whispers.

You’ve been so caught up in the moment that he didn’t even come to mind until now. Fuck.

“Can I ask,” you interject and lift your head. “Is he really your son? I mean I doubt it, but is he?”

Your father snorts. “Please ask yourself that again, my miracle child.”

You laugh softly. And now that you’re asking him it does sound silly.

“Can I ask something else,” you bring up happily. “Have you seen the man you would always talk about? Ser Joffrey?”

When you were young your father always had tales of his “friend” Ser Joffrey. How they’d go there and over here, they’d sail and ride Seasmoke, they’d have fun hunting trips. He was all your father talked about, and so fondly too. You were too young to catch what Ser Joffrey really meant to your father, it’s only when you got older that you realized that Ser Joffrey was his lover. Someone killed by yet another Green member.

Albeit now that man is dead, so Ser Joffrey got his revenge.

“Why,” your father says with a smile. “Yes I have. He wants to meet you. I’m sure he knows more about you than I do because of how much I talk about you to him.”

You smile in awe. “I want to meet him too,” you assure him. “Will I get to?”

Your father lets out a deep breath and shrugs. “I don’t know. I wish you wouldn't yet. You’re still so young. You’re not even twenty yet.”

You look at the blue glimmering ocean and sigh with gloom. “A few more days and I will be.”

“I want you to live a long life, y/n,” your father tells you softly. “You have so much to live for. Your children, your goals, and your dreams. Your hopes and desires.”

You feign a laugh and shake your head. “My hopes and desires have gotten me nowhere but in a mess.”

“A mess of your mistakes,” he actually agrees with you, causing you to gasp softly. “But mistakes you've learned from.”

“Have I?” You retort. “I mean I'm here, I’m dying, Gods knows where. If I learned from my mistakes perhaps I would be on my way to my mother's side…I would actually be with her before she had to flee. But no,” you huff and fist your hands. “I left. My brother is dead, and if I was there I could’ve helped, he’d be alive. Or if I didn’t leave way back then then my mother wouldn’t have closed off her heart the way she did.”

Your father exhales and reaches over to grab your hand. “Who knows? We’ll never know if you would have changed things by being there,” he says. “Perhaps you’d be dead too. All that matters is that you know you did wrong, now it’s time to move on from your past, there’s still so much to fight for, don’t let the past pull you into a darkness you won’t escape from. Or you will actually die.”

You swallow thickly and look up at the sky. “What if that’s what I want?” You ask. “I mean it’s peaceful here. No more fighting, no more aching heart. And you’re here too.”

Your father smiles softly. “Yeah, it’s been a treat seeing you again, but it’s not your time.”

You scoff and look at him with tears streaming down your cheeks. “Then why am I here?”

Your father sighs shakily as tears fill his eyes. “I’ve come to say goodbye,” he reveals, causing your breath to shudder—“I never got to,” he says. “We never got to.”

Your bottom lip trembles and you can’t help but let out a small sob. “I don’t want you to go,” you whisper and turn to grab him. “Please don’t go. Please I don’t want to go.”

Your father cups your cheeks and pulls you in closer. “We’ll see each other again, but not so soon. Please not so soon.”

You dig your fingers in his arms and shake your head. “No, please don’t leave me again,” you fight him. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Well,” he laughs softly with tears rolling down his own cheeks. “I think you’ve been doing a pretty good job without me so far.”

You whimper and throw your arms around him so he won’t leave, so you wouldn’t, but at that moment the hue grows brighter and his touch almost feels like nothing.

“Father,” you whisper.

Said man hugs you back and he whispers. “I love you.”

You cry, “I love you too.”

And with those last words uttered you’re swallowed by the light and suddenly you wake somewhere else. Some place where the sky is grey and cloudy, the air around you is chilly, and your pain feels unbearable.

“She’s alive! Call for the maesters!”

Who is that?

That voice sounds familiar.

“Princess,” they utter before the sky gets closer. “Do not worry you will be okay. I got you now.”

You blink and look at where the voice comes from and see the blurry face of Ser Jason right over you. His face is struck with disbelief and mixed with so much worry.

“Fetch the Queen!”

Is this where you are? With her? Home.

“Addam,” you utter through your haze even though you know he’s gone. “I—” you cut yourself off and bellow out as you’re hit with pain when he makes some harsh movement.

“Forgive me,” Ser Jason whispers and only briefly glances at you before he looks away with concern. “We’ll get inside soon. Just hold on, okay?”

You shake your head. “I can’t. It hurts, please just take out the blade.”

Since Ser Jason's face is so close to you you see the way he swallows thickly before he argues with you. “No. If I do, you'll die for sure. Just wait a while longer. The maester will help.”

You close your eyes and try to drown out the throbbing pain that hits you with each movement he makes. You just want to sleep again. Dream of your father once more. You don’t want to be here.

“Please,” you beg as you open your eyes to look up at him, “just take it out.”

“No! Just hold on—get the fucking maester!” He bellows.

You look away from the man and look up to try and find comfort in the sky, but that disappears and all you see is tall stone ceilings. They’re ugly things, but being awake is crueler. Besides pain, there’s so much more ache that barrels into you; guilt, memories of the past, pain you had long forgotten, and happy memories you wish to go back to. The voices, the laughter, and the crying from those memories all begin to crowd in your head.

“Make it stop, tell them to be quiet,” you say out loud with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Here! Put her here!”

“Careful!”

More faces then show up above you, faces that are strange to your fractured mind. “Let me go,” you murmur and try to push yourself up, but someone pushes you down, causing you to feel more sharp pain.

Yet you still try to fight the strangers looking at you like they’re terrified of you. “I said let me go!”

“You’ll only hurt yourself more princess, lay back,” a man tells you in a shaky voice.

You groan and try to get up, but there’s more voices.

“In here, put her down there and give me space! Myrcella heat up the rod! She’s still alive!”

The men carrying you put you down so all you can see is a darker cieling.

“Go, go give me space.”

“Let me in, let me in!”

“Your Grace—”

“Y/N!”

Through the pain, the madness in your head, and the thumping in your ears, there’s suddenly ease at the simple sight of your mother's beautiful yet exhausted face above yours. “Mother,” you mewl.

She picks up your hand and basks your cold flesh with warmth. “My sweet,” she whispers with tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh my sweet girl. You will be alright…” she trails off and looks away. “Won’t she maester? Can you save my daughter?”

“I can but I need space, Your Grace, please.”

Your mother looks back at you and lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles. “I will be waiting outside that door for however long it takes, just please don’t leave me.”

“Mother don’t leave,” you tell her with fear of death striking you for the first time. “Please.”

Your mother offers you a sweet smile. “I will be close. I won’t be far.” She pulls back, but lingers for a moment beside you. “Fight for me. Please,” she adds before she disappears and you see an old maester with white frizzy hair take her place.

“I will give you some milk of the poppy now, Princess, you will need it,” he says in a gravelly voice before he steps forward and takes your chin to force it down your throat.

You cough out and that makes your chest burn. The maester steps away and grabs the source of the pain before he yanks it out, making you let out a blood-curdling scream before you just see darkness again.

That’s all there is for a while. It’s so peaceful, and quiet. There’s no voices from memories, or memories themselves. There’s peace.

But that doesn’t last long because a familiar voice wakes you up. “Y/N.”

Your eyes flutter open and before you can take in your surroundings you look at who called you and gasp as you see Aemond.

He looks just the same as when you last saw him only a month back. And even if it hasn’t been so long since he…died it’s felt like an eternity since you’ve seen his beautiful face.

“Aemond,” you whisper full of utter bliss you can’t stop from feeling.

Even after death, you can’t come to hate him. Yet you can’t bring yourself to shed a single tear for him anymore. No matter how much you do miss him.

He notices that and questions it quietly as gets closer to you. “No tears for me?”

You draw in a deep breath and avert your gaze, noticing in that moment that you’re in King’s Landing, on the roofs you always escaped to as kids, and found a sense of freedom.

“I,” you breathe out. “I cried all I needed to cry for you. You understand why don’t you?” You interrogate him now. “I alone grieve you, but I also need to remember your sins that have me here. Do you understand that now?”

Aemond stops as he gets only a few inches before you, and drops his head. “I always understood, but are they sins to me? No, but I always did wonder why you stuck with me because of them? You could’ve killed me so many times, why didn’t you?”

You scoff and turn away to look up at the starry sky that’s of course accompanied by that hue from before too. You still sit and smile as you think back to the happier days. When you wanted nothing of war, when you wanted just to fly on dragonback and be with him.

“Are you really asking me that?” You ask quietly as you pat the seat beside you. “Here?”

Aemond hesitates but he then slowly joins your side on the edge of the roof. “I am,” he says. “I need to know.”

You blink and sigh before you turn your head to meet his gaze and his dispatch; Even in whatever space this is he continues to wear that?

“First and foremost,” you say with a laugh whilst you put your palm out.

Aemond glances down at it and sighs deeply before he takes his eyepatch off and hands it to you with a tiny smile.

“Better,” you coo.

Aemond’s smile fades and he returns to what you were talking about. “Now…”

You nod softly and continue to hold his gaze as your own smile falls. “I never killed you, I never hated you, Aemond, because I loved you,” you reveal, making him swallow thickly. “I love you until this very moment. Call it nostalgia, perhaps, selfishness for refusing to let you go, but no matter what,” you say with a soft look. “I could never grow to hate you. Even with all your faults. And all of mine, I continue to love you.”

Aemond scoffs softly and smiles faintly at the tiles you sit on. “We were really a pair weren't we?” He asks light-heartedly.

You chuckle. “Yes—we could’ve been a great pair if our lives had been different.”

“Yes,” Aemond agrees softly. “But we were a good pair for as long as we had together, don’t you think?”

You smile at him and nod. “Yes, I like to believe so. I mean besides our faults, and our troubles towards the end, we were good.”

Aemond lifts his gaze and to meets yours with a small smile. “I,” he utters. “I miss you. I don’t want to go without you.”

Your bottom lip begins to tremble and tears fills your eyes at his soft and kind words he often used to…manipulate you. You see that now, on the brink of death. He was genuine sometimes, but there were others where he just used those words because he knew you’d fall for it.

“Aemond,” you whisper.

Said man leans over and takes your hands in his to begin trying to convince you. “You always wanted a free life where you could be what you wanted, where you could travel the world, be a sailor, be a simple dragonrider forever in the clouds. You always dreamed of being away from the cage you called life, my love, so this is our chance.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of the things you never thought he’d remember, or even ponder over as a reality. Sure…this is now…your mind maybe, a temptation death is using to lure you in, but he finally sees that part of you, he’s finally saying what you wanted him to say so many times in life.

“We could fly endlessly,” he continues to say while he now proceeds to cup your cheeks. “We could discover different lands, be whoever we want, live without the shackles of our royal life or their expectations.”

That sounds so nice. So painless.

“Just me and you forever now. Like we promised when we wed,” he adds and leans over to press his forehead against yours.

“You’d leave with me?” You ask shakily. “This time would you really leave with me?”

Aemond nods. “I would.”

You grin and don’t question your answer, you want to go on without pain or suffering. No more loss. Just sweet endless freedom.

You part your lips to accept, but before you can utter those words, soft voices sound behind Aemond.

You try to look because for some reason those voices sound familiar, but Aemond tilts his head and blocks your view. “Don’t,” he murmurs. “Come with me.”

You don’t take a moment to consider this time, you pull away from him and stand up. However, he does too, and blocks your view again. “Aemond,” you grumble and gently push him away.

Now that he isn’t in your way you see three young adults, a tall slim young man with blue eyes just like Aemond’s. He also has long curly white-silver that he has partially down to his shoulders while the other half is in a braid. He wears a charming grin, and he has a mischievous look about him. He looks oddly familiar even if you haven’t seen him ever in your life.

And the two young women he’s with? They share his same complexion, they all look alike, but the girls share a stronger resemblance; for example, one is shorter than the other. Most importantly they have different eye and hair colors too; the tall girl has blue eyes just like the guys, and her hair is blond-silver. While the shorter girl has white-silver hair and grey eyes; grey like a brewing storm that you’ve only seen two other people have, Cregan and…your daughter Daenerys.

Is this—how could you be so clueless before? This is them, Aerion, Daenys, and Daenerys. They’re all grown up, so beautiful.

“Aerion?” You muse. “Daenys? Daenerys?”

They look over and flash you a smile.

“Mother,” Aerion calls out in a deep voice. “Come we have something we have to show you.”

You grin and don’t hesitate to take a step forward, however, Aemond interjects. “Wait, stay with me. Y/N, Please. Please don’t go.”

He sounds so sweet and vulnerable. You have to look at him.

“Y/N,” he whispers and steps forward to slowly lift his hand off his side and offer it to you with a soft look on his face. “Please.”

You glance at his hand and debate his proposal.

“Mother,” Daenerys calls out sweetly. “Daenys has something important she wants to show you. Come!”

You look back and see Daenys giggle and hide something behind her back.

You feel intruiged so you walk over with glee.

“Y/N,” Aemond calls out. “Please, don’t.”

You stop in between them and peer back at him to offer him a sweet smile. That’s when you see happy memories of your past; from your childhood and to your adulthood. You even see flashes of the promise for a better forever. It’s tempting, but when you look at your kids all grown up and happy, you see a promise for a hopeful tomorrow in reality. You had begun to give up hope.

“Aemond,” you say and look over at him with tears in your eyes. “I—”

Yet before you can give him your answer light consumes you again and when you wake now, you seem to be in someone’s chambers.

Is this some other…fever dream? Escape, or a purgatory before death?

The chambers smell like some herbal incense. As far as you can see there’s no hue over your surroundings, there’s just a stone cieling. You can feel soft fur covers beneath your fingertips, which feels real, and most of all you can feel a sharp stabbing pain that burns on your chest.

Maybe if you recollect what happened before you saw Aemond you’ll know…

Yet all you can recall is unbearable pain, milk of the poppy getting shoved down your throat, and an old maester—Ser Jason comes to mind too, he’s hazy, but he comes to mind.

He’s helping you, and you’re…pleading for help—oh! That’s right, you’re with your mother. Somewhere.

“Mother?” You call out hoarsely hoping she’s in the same room so you don’t have to sit up.

And luckily she is here. “Y/N?”

Before you know it her face is over yours.

“Y/N,” she repeats again and now you see how red her eyes are, and how deep her eyebags look.

She’s probably been so worried, and you wanted the mercy of death while Ser Jason was carrying you inside.

“I'm sorry,” is the first thing you tell her. “I’m sorry.”

You’re always telling her that, but you also have so much to apologize for. You’ve let her down so many times.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat yourself. “I…don’t deserve your forgiveness, mother.”

She cups your cheek and wipes away the tears that began to roll down your cheeks. “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing is your fault, I…was too strict. I should apologize to you.”

You shake your head. “You had to flee, you lost so much because I left.” You continue to cry.

“No,” she rebuttals. “Don’t go down that spiral. I don’t know if you could have saved the dragons or Joffrey that day, perhaps you would have met the same fate,” she says the same thing your father said in your close encounter with death. Which assures you somewhat, but that still won’t rid you of the guilt you feel.

“So,” she continues. “Don’t apologize for things we cannot know. Instead, apologize for scaring me now.”

You try to laugh but that hurts so you just smile. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t intend to get hurt. Then again even if I did I don’t mind because Daeron is dead because of that battle, and Vermithor is gone as well. I know that is not enough, but I hope it does please you, Your Grace.”

Your mother smiles softly and pulls her hand down to cup yours. “More than you know,” she assures you. “Both the traitors are dead because of you—”

“Addam and I,” you cut her off to correct her. “I was not alone. It was Addam, an army from the Riverlands, and I.”

Your mother nods and her smile brightens. “Yes, I heard. Thank you, my Sweet. You make me proud.”

More tears stream down your face, but this time they’re born out of joy.

She’s never denied you affection, she was very caring all the time, so her showing you love isn’t strange. It’s just odd hearing her say those four words at this moment, during this war.

It’s a small comfort for your aching soul.

“Thank you, mother,” you whisper and squeeze her hand.

She offers you a gentle smile before she leans over and presses a kiss on your forehead. When’s she pulls back she looks at you with worry. “Does it hurt terribly? Should I fetch the maester?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m…okay now. I'm just confused as to how I got here.”

Your mother chuckles softly at that and her smile doesn't fail to show on her face. “Astraea,” she reveals. “She flew in, hurt, but she flew in and put you down somewhere safe.”

You beam at the ceiling. “That’s my girl,” you muse before you tilt your head back down. “Is she doing better?”

Your mother nods. “Yes, it’s been around three days so she’s getting a lot better.”

3 days? It’s felt like hours.

“And my children?” You finally ask as you remember what illusion or dream you were just lost in. “I hope they haven’t been a fuss.”

“No,” she assures you. “They’re great, I love being around them. They take that from you. You were always an easy babe.”

You hum softly and start to feel tired again.

“You know,” you mention softly and look away from your mother. “I saw them, Aerion, Daenys, and Daenerys. They were grown up and beautiful, every single one of them.”

“Y/N?” Your mother questions in confusion to your comment.

You swallow thickly and more tears spill. “I also saw father. He looked the same…I miss him.”

“Ser Jason?!” You hear your mother exclaim as she pulls away.

The once burning pain turns to agony, and as minutes pass the clear view begins to blur as you feel your body burn up.

“Princess?”

You groan softly and blink to look over. In that moment you swear you see the grey eyes of Cregan looking at you.

“Cregan?” You ask out loud.

“No, I apologize,” they say, making you blink repeatedly.

Your vision isn't clear but you do manage to see Ser Jason. It disappoints you.

“Oh,” you whisper and look up again. “Where’s my mother?”

“Being the Queen—or her presence was requested,” he corrects himself. “I’m here to give you something for the pain.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t want milk of the poppy. I've seen what it does. No.”

Ser Jason laughs nervously. “No, it’s not that. It’s something else for the pain. The Queen is reluctant on trusting the maester, so I offered this solution. It…tastes horrid, but it helps.”

He proceeds to lean over, and you feel his cold hands grab your chin. “I’m just going to help you drink some.”

You part your lips and speak first. “Did you know you’re having a child?” You remark sassily even if you’re in immense pain.

“I don’t think so,” he rebuttals, making you scoff and glare over at him.

“How typical, at least be a man about it,” you spat, making him freeze.

“I just,” he sputters. “I mean, I don’t remember that night. All I remember is Alys, naked. I only drank a couple drinks but not enough to get me drunk, I know that, so I don’t know if that child is mine.”

You freeze now and feel bad for acting so coldly and being resentful against him. “Oh,” you whisper. “Sorry. She is a bitch.”

Ser Jason stays quiet and then tilts your head down so he can pour some of that sour and bad-smelling liquid in you.

You of course gag but he tilts your head down so you forcefully drink it

“Lord Stark wrote to your mother,” Lord Jason shares, making you gasp as you try to stomach the fucking medicine.

Maybe that’s why he said it, to distract you from throwing up.

“Albeit,” he adds as he pulls his hands back. “The host he promised your mother will take time to arrive since his realm is large, he says, and he needs to bring in his harvest for the winter.” He scoffs, but you smile happily and with comfort filling your heart.

Finally, Cregan is coming. Finally.

“You should see the North at night,” you murmur while your eyes begin to feel heavy and your breaths get hard to actually produce. “When snow blankets the lands, and the moon kisses it…it’s so beautiful—will we go back to the wall again?”

“Princess, I just need to tell you something. I have harbored in my heart for so long now—”

“Let’s go to the woods tonight,” you murmur as you imagine Cregan beside you. “That way we no longer have to hide…”

In your delirious mind, you can hear him beside you. “Princess? Are you luring me to the woods alone? What would your mother say?”

You grin softly. “My mother…” yet you don’t finish because you’re then whisked away again.

This time whatever made you see ghosts of your dead loved ones took time to get you. You almost thought you escaped from its clutches, but that light blinds you again. However, this time something feels different, it feels better. Freeing. There’s no worry or stress about anything. But this time there’s no scenery, there’s darkness, and a door shining in a bright light at the end.

The sound of laughter leaves from the door and voices you know echo. You don’t know what it is that lures you, but you know you feel peace walking to it.

That is until someone speaks behind you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You turn around and immediately smile as you see your brothers, Lucerys and Jacaerys.

“Finally,” you muse before you run over and wrap them both in an embrace. “I missed you guys so much.” You close your eyes and bask in their presence.

Lucerys hugs you back and clutches onto you. “We missed you too,” he says back, making you smile brightly and cry quietly.

It hasn’t been so long since you saw either of them, but it has felt like fucking lifetimes!

Nevertheless, just as you are enjoying the moment you get shoved back. And as you tear your eyes open you see Jacaerys glaring at you with that intense stare of his. However, you also see more now too; the black background slowly changes to Dragonstone. The ground you stand on turns to sand, the nothingness turns to a cold fresh breeze, and the sky above your hands turns to blue and gets littered with dragons, but again a soft hue begins to cover everything.

“You chose home, huh?” Lucerys asks, ignoring Jacaerys reaction.

You smile at Lucerys and part your lips to speak to ignore your brother too, but Jacaerys cuts in with anger. “You promised! She’s not done yet!” He complains and steps forward.

You look away from Lucerys and meet Jacaerys angry glare calmly. “It’s over for me,” you mumble and look back, noticing that the door that leads to the afterlife is standing in the middle of the sand. As if waiting for you to walk inside.

“That’s why Im here arent I?” You ask your brothers as you look back at them. “It’s why father visited me, why I also saw Aemond.” You sigh and plop yourself down on the sand to look up at the sky and watch Arrax and Vermax circle over the shore. “I can’t fight anymore, it’s over, and I’m glad…I’m done.”

“Done?” Jacaerys rebuttals. “You’re not done with shit, you promised me that you’d fight for her, that you would help her get on that throne and win this war.”

You look up at him and remain calm. “I did, she was on the throne, I’m done, Jacaerys. Let me be here with you guys. I’ll wait for my children here until they grow old and wrinkled.” You smile softly and glance down to watch the waves roll in.

“We will be here when you come back,” Lucerys interjects softer than Jacaerys. “Don’t you want to see your children grow?”

Your soft smile fades and the sight of the rolling waves begins to become unpleasurable. Do they really want you to go back to fighting, and to watching more people you love die?

You’ve beared it long enough, you can’t do it a moment longer, you’ll completely lose yourself if you do. So you’d rather leave while you still have some of you left.

“I can watch them grow from here,” you argue. “If that’s possible anway.”

“No, no!” Jacaerys exclaims and grabs your arm to yank you up forcibly. “You still have a chance, you still have a chance to fix things, why aren’t you trying?!”

You don’t cry, or respond with anger, you let out a simple breath and answer him calmly. “Because I’m scared…I don’t want to lose anymore. You, Lucerys, Addam…I can’t lose anymore. That’s why.” You pull away from his grasp and walk over to the shore instead.

Footsteps of course follow after you, and the arguing doesn’t stop from either of them.

“Don’t you think mother is scared?” Lucerys interjects this time. “She’s the Queen, but she’s still our mother. Don’t you think she’s scared of losing you? You’re giving her hope, and you want to break that by choosing the easy way out?”

You scoff and turn to look at him with shock. “When did you grow so wise little brother?”

Lucerys rolls his eyes. “I'm just saying the truth,” he says. “Mother needs you. I know it’s scary, but you get to choose right now; walk through that door,” he points over at the door luring you in. “Or go back and live on for who you’ve lost. We'll always be watching over you, we’ll wait for you, but we can only do that if you fight.”

This time your eyes do fill with tears, this time you begin to feel guilt and pain return to you. You were numb to it, but now it returns like the waves crashing in the sand behind you.

“Fight,” Lucerys adds with a tiny smile on his face. “For all of us.”

You swallow back your tears and shake your head. “But I want to stay here with you, with Jacaerys,” you mention and look at your brother standing by Lucerys. “Please.”

“We’ll wait for you here!” A new voice chimes in, making you gasp. “Isn’t that right boys?”

You spin around and see Addam, he’s healed and approaching you with a grin.

“We did hell of a job, huh?” He adds.

You cry and then break into a sprint to throw your arms around him. “Addam,” you whisper.

He hugs you back and chuckles. “Hello.”

You pull back and meet his gaze with tears. “We won,” you mumble with glee. “We did.”

Addam nods and grabs you by your arms. “I know. And you lived, so live on, y/n. Keep fighting, win.”

“But,” you argue and step back to face Jacaerys and Lucerys too. “How?”

Jacaerys shrugs. “With everything you got?” He says, making Addam laugh.

“Yes,” he agrees. “With everything you got. If you lose you get back up again and continue fighting.”

You still aren't satisfied, nor are you fired up with inspiration, but as you hear all of them so eager to motivate you, as you see them here not being able to have the chance you have to keep living, how can you not listen and keep fighting?

If not for you, then for them. They deserve their justice don’t they? It’s still not done until Aegon is dead too, until your mother's rule is at peace.

You can help her do that with all you have left.

“Will you be here?” You ask the three of them. “When I come back?”

Jacaerys sighs with relief and nods, whilst Lucerys answers. “We’ll be here,” he assures you. “We’ll wait for you and move on together.”

You offer them a wobbly smile and step in to wrap the three of them in an embrace. “I was lucky to have been given brothers. I love you all.”

Addam pats your back, and Lucerys responds. “We love you too. Now…”

“Keep on fighting,” Jacaerys finishes for him.

You close your eyes and take in this moment as you feel yourself return to reality.

However, as you open your eyes now, a new setting welcomes you. This time instead of stone ceilings, you see a cieling made of wooden panels. This time you smell the salty air, you feel the bed rocking gently, and see a bright light shining over your eyes.

You have to be on a ship. Are you going to Dragonstone already? Your mother did mention that before.

You sit up as you fight the pain in your chest, catching your mother inside the small cabin with a baby in her arms. You also notice Ser Jason sleeping on a chair by the door.

“Mother,” you call out softly.

Said woman picks up her head and turns around slowly with her eyes wide, and Daenys sleeping in her arms.

“Y/N,” she whispers before she quickly walks over to sit on the side of the bed.

“Happy name day,” she reminds you of your special day. “I know it’s not very exciting like you like, but once get to Dragonstone we can have dinner, or do something you like how does that sound?”

You smile and nod while you reach over to caress your baby's head. “That’s great, but as long as you’re there, mother I’m more than content.”

Besides with all this grief, with this pain, you don’t feel like celebrating like you would. You’re fine with a simple dinner and some kind of yummy dessert. It’s a drastic change from your usual name day wishes but well this year something small will have to do. Besides you’re being honest as long as she’s here, you are fine.

“She hasn’t slept well over the past couple of days,” your mother shares and pulls the blanket tighter over Daenys. “She has barely been able to at least take a nap…maybe she knows her mother has been in pain.”

You giggle softly. “She'd truly live up to her namesake if that is so,” you retort and look away from her to look at your mother, noticing how exhausted she still looks. “Have you slept?” You ask and sit back slowly.

Your mother looks away from Daenys and sighs deeply. “I’ve slept enough,” she answers vaguely. “You fell back for a couple days. You’re a mother now so I know you understand that worry.” She smiles.

You grin sweetly and nod slowly. “Yes…” you trail off and avert your gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” she counters sternly. “No more apologies. That's an order from your Queen.”

She should hate you, but you’re glad she doesn’t. “All right, Your Grace.” You look over at her with a soft look and move on like she wants. “What now then? We are going to Dragonstone, yes?”

Your mother nods. “Yes. And we plan to wait, Lord Stark sent an envoy so we should gain his support soon enough. Lady Arryn has sent an envoy as well, but it will take time since they are so far away.”

You hum softly and glance over at Ser Jason as he shifts in his seat. “Well,” you whisper. “Then we'll wait. Besides, Astraea needs rest too. With all the dragons gone, a burden falls on her now until more dragons are born.”

“Yes, so as soon as we get home we’ll give dragon eggs to Daenys, Aegon, and Daenerys, with hope they will hatch a dragon. I will try as well, but mine is not a guarantee.”

You smirk and gently grab her hand as you recall what you were told in that plane before death. “Don’t worry Astraea and I will carry the burden, we will fight. We’ve fought great odds, what’s a little more?”

Your mother laughs softly and holds your hand to caress it gently. “Just make sure to not over exhaust yourself though, I still need you.”

Your eyes water and your smile wobbles. “And I you,” you redirect before you grin brightly. “I need to tell you something.”

Your mother blinks and waits patiently.

You sigh softly and can’t contain your smile. “While I was in some state between life and death, I saw them again….Jacaerys and Lucerys.”

Your mother stiffens and the corner of her lips twitch to a smile.

“They were okay, upset at me for being there but they’re okay,” you assure her. “They’re watching over us,” you muse.

Your mother's eyes get watery, but she doesn’t shed tears, she just smiles down at Daenys. “With luck, we won’t see them for a long while, until then…I’ll keep dreaming of them. But I’m glad you saw them, what did they say?”

You sit back and groan softly because of the pain. “They told me to fight with you. To win this war once and for all, so I shall.”

“Land incoming!” The voice of a sailor rings from above deck.

You look out the window but see nothing, so you lay back and touch your chest, feeling the bandage under your gown. “I hate feeling this way,” you grumble.

The sleeping man by the door opens his eyes as he shifts up on the chair looking slightly startled.

“My grandfather says a knight sleeping on his post should be whipped,” you interject and watch your handmaiden Vanessa walk through the door.

“Well, forgive me,” he responds nervously and teasingly, not knowing if you’re serious or not. “You were asleep for so long I thought I could get away with it.”

You offer him a soft smile and focus on your friend. “Princess,” she exclaims with a growing smile.

“Vanessa, my friend,” you greet quietly as speaking begins to take from the low energy you have.

“I'm happy you're awake,” she tells you when she reaches your mother to take Daenys. “I’ve been so worried.”

You sigh and glance over at Ser Jason stepping out the door to hear some form of instruction. “You don’t have to be for long,” you assure your handmaiden. “I’ll be okay. Are you?”

Vanessa smiles and nods while she rocks Daenys to make sure she stays asleep. “Now I am.” She smiles.

“Good,” you whisper. “I’m glad.”

More handmaidens scurry in your room, one takes Daenys to get her ready to disembark, and one of your mothers handmaidens tries to take her away, but she stops to talk to you. “I will be nearby if you need me. If not we’ll see each other on the deck, okay?”

You can’t help your amused smile as you nod in comprehension, letting her walk out a bit more assured, and leaving you with Vanessa and a few more handmaidens that help you dress in a black long-sleeved gown that has slits running down the middle of those sleeves. You feel warm fur that’s covered by your gown since it’s only meant to keep you warm. They put on a red cloak to go with the black gown, so you can coordinate with your Targaryen house colors. And lastly, but gently they help you put on silver chest armor to protect the wound on your chest.

“I think we should send for Baela,” you break the silence once the pain isn’t stabbing your chest. “Moondancer might be small, but she’s still fierce just like Baela. Should can help. As well as Rhaena.”

Vanessa hooks your arm around hers and begins to walk out of the cabin. “Yes, I will send them an envoy the moment we get inside.”

You smile softly. “I’m so relieved to finally be home. I’ve been moving around too much, it’s awful,” you complain and see Ser Jason push himself off the hall wall to hurry to your other side and grab that arm. “Please,” you mutter. “It’s a chest wound, I can walk…kind of fine.”

Vanessa laughs softly. “If I let you go would you walk fine?”

“Oh, well yes Ser Jason is gripping onto me.” You grumble and slide your eyes over at him.

“Apologies I didn’t know how much you can walk,” he excuses himself.

You sigh and look at the door that leads to the deck. “It’s fine, just loosen your grip before you break my arm.”

“Oh, so you’re feeling like a fool today?” Vanessa teases you. “That’s quite a change.”

You smile at her. “I’ve had quite an exciting past couple of days, plus today is my name day! I need some form of excitement.”

“It’s today?”

“Happy name day princess,” Vanessa says as she gently caresses your hand. “I didn’t know if you wanted it celebrated or not so I kept quiet.”

You smirk. “Thoughtful as always. And yes, Ser Jason it’s today. I’ve been alive for 20 years, it’s maddening.” You let out a deep and sad sigh but don’t let it show on your face.

“Well, we’ll make it the best,” he says. “If it’s what you want of course.”

You laugh quietly and nod softly. “We can try.”

The door to the deck opens and as you step out, cold and thick rain droplets greet you. Nevertheless, as thick and as hard as the rain is falling, you still look up to search for your dragon.

You don’t see her though. Which isn’t odd, she probably stopped nearby since she is injured, so it’s good, she needs to rest. However, it would be nice if she could block the rain with her body, it’s only calming to look at, not be under as you’re feeling shitty as you do.

Why can’t it be snowing instead?

“Come,” Vanessa urges you away from the door. “The Queen is waiting.”

You drag your eyes to your handmaiden. “You might as well be carrying me. It's okay, I won’t fall, Vanessa. Let me go please. You’re both going at different paces. I can't keep up.”

“Are you sure?” She double checks.

You offer her a smile and nod softly. “Yes. Just stay close, and I’ll be fine.”

Vanessa is hesitant but she does as you ask, letting Ser Jason whisk you away to join your mother, brother, handmaidens, and children all protected by her three Queensguards.

“Ready to go home?” Your mother asks.

You nod. “Please,” you say with a faint smile.

Your mother holds your gaze and mirrors your smile before you move on and disembark from the boat where you’re greeted by an escort made of a man you know, Ser Alfred Broome, and forty other guards. Since it is raining and that shields a lot of the men’s faces, Ser Alfred’s sullen face is the only one you recognize.

“Why is Ser Robert Quince not here to receive us?” Your mother asks the sullen-looking knight.

“We will be seeing our fat friend at the castle,” Ser Alfred responds nonchalantly, letting you drive your attention to the dock you just got off and noticing that it’s very lonely; actually it’s only you on this dock, not even the dockside brothels look to be occupied, and even if it's pouring or storming the brothels always are occupied. Not today though. Strange.

You don’t point that out to your mother though, you walk away with her and follow the escort towards the tall ancient castle.

Now at first, you don’t notice it, the endless pain you feel is irritating but when you can think past that pain you notice how tense it all feels. The guards escorting you to the castle all look more stiff than usual, you keep catching them glancing at the sky as if they’re waiting for something to drop by. It’s weird but you don’t point it out either. It’s probably just the rainy weather anyway. That or the fact that your mother is fleeing back home. Either or, you don’t point it out. You follow them, keep at their pace, but come to an unusual stop when you reach the battlement of the gatehouse.

“What’s wrong Ser Alfred?” Your mother asks.

Said knight turns slowly and his glare burns in your mother. “Our fat friend is here,” he mutters and looks up.

You shoot him a pointed look but follow his line of gaze, finding that to be a mistake the moment you see four bodies hanging off the wall. One was so incredibly burned that it was unrecognizable, the others you knew though; it was the castles steward, the Captain of the guard, the man who would train your brother, the Master-at-arms, and Maester Gerardys; his body like the burnt one is awful, whereas the other body was burnt, this was one had his entrails hanging out of his body as only his head and torso hang off the wall.

But how? Who—

Wait no, that's a dumb question. It’s all starting to connect, the tension, the deserted dock, the anger behind the knights glare, and now the bodies of people who were loyal to your mother. This is no welcome, this is an ambush.

“Mother, flee!” You shout and quickly reach over to pull out Ser Jason’s sword from his sheath since he’s right by you.

But just as you do the men sent to be your escort unsheath their weapons and fall upon the three guards that were protecting you.

The children then seem to sense the danger, they probably hear the metal scraping so they begin to wail, adding to the already high tension.

“Ser Jason! The children!” You command, and then watch as your mother's Queensguard begins to get slain; the first man to fall is Ser Harrold Darke with an axe to the head. And seconds later Ser Adrian Redfort is next, leaving one more, and a heavily wounded you.

“Mother,” you bellow and push Ser Jason away to reach your mother with energy borrowed from your adrenaline.

“Y/N!” Your mother calls back and grabs your arm before you twist around to try and swing at one guard.

However, as you leave your back exposed to the others, someone finds the chance to point a blade at your back, causing you to freeze and grip your mother's hand out of fear.

“Drop—”

No.

“The sword.”

Your eyes widen and a breath hitches in your throat before you drop the sword. When you turn around you see the unbelievable Ser Jason pointing a sword at you.

It’s actually him, you’re meeting his blue eyes, and you’re seeing his face. Ser Jason betrayed his Queen, he betrayed you.

“You bastard,” you grimace with a furious glare on your face.

“The children will be safe as long as you behave,” he counters in a cold unrecognizable voice.

You suck in your cheeks and pull your head back a little before you spit forward on his face. “Fuck you,” you spat.

Ser Jason sighs and wipes the spit off his face before he slaps his arm around your arm and shoves you forward, breaking you away from your mothers grasp.

“No, please my daughter,” your mother begs.

“Try anything and I’ll kill her,” Ser Alfred warns as he kills the last of your mother’s Queensgaurd.

You try to look at your mother, but then another guard comes to your other side and slaps his arm on your other arm.

If only you weren’t injured. If only Astraea wasn’t. But you are and she is too, so now all you can do is watch as men with spears walk up behind you to point their weapons at you, your mother, and the handmaidens carrying the children. You’re too weak to fight, even with adrenaline pumping in your blood with one hit and you’ll die. You barely made it out of this as it is.

So you have to give up and get marched at spearpoint through the castle gates, and into the castle ward where you come face to face with a dead man and dying dragon.

Because of course, Aegon is still fucking alive.

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