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#I used to ship it myself to boot

quilleth · 2 years

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So my final payment for ying Zhou is due this month, which isn't an issue- I'm excited about it!

But I didn't check how long orders take for loongsoul before I placed the order and it looks like 8 months or so might be normal? Which means he won't be here until November ish

I want to start working on dollbei jun now!! But I can't really do much without having him in hand to get accurate measurements! So I'm am throwing a very whiny temper tantrum about it xD

I was able to cast some eye bases. They have some flaws but I think they'll work ok. I'm going to try making more this weekend so I can experiment. I know most people take the description "chrysoberyl eyes" to give him like..cat eyes, but the idea of saying 'ok chrysoberyl is the proper name for tigers eye stones, so WHAT IF! I used the flash effect in gems like that as inspiration instead.' I have some black pigment for resin, so I'm going to make some black bases and try making the iris/ pupil look more like the flash effect in the gem. It might look cool or it might look terrible but the idea won't leave me alone xD

I also need to work on my little dollightful jade bunny, including casting some eyes for her. The 10mm ones I already made have a lot more flaws than the 16mm ones. I can probably repair them but we'll see.

#quill's bjd adventures #im bored at work and plotting bjd projects instead of data entry lol #he's blank so id hoped he wouldnt take too long to arrive but i have no idea. its my first time using a dealer and doing a layaway #i might ask if i can order some stands and accessories to have ship with him if hes not there yet when i pay him off #i need to place an AliExpress or taobao order too because i dont think I really want to try making his boots myself #idk yet. i need to buy fabrics for his outfit first. and fibers to attempt making a wig #i hate wig making so i should just buy one to style but um picky about the color and length lol #i should make a project journal on doa to track everything i need to do as i go. but doing it here is easier #dollbei jun #yes he gets his own silly tag xD

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yourfatherlucifer · 1 month

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MDNI - Pirate!Hongjoong

Ft. Seonghwa and Yunho

prince!reader

fucking god… 😩 btw this may seem cnc but its completely consensual, reader is just hesitant, he's not used to the pirate ways, and is in the closet.

please REBLOG

The very aggravated prince was thrown down into the brig, his body practically hogtied together, "You won't get away with this! My father will have your head on a silver platter!" He snarled and thrashed.

With a giggle, the captain of this ship approached the small cell, "That's so cute, but unfortunately for you, you won't be going anywhere, pretty boy. I have more uses for you than some gold for my crew." He grinned.

Hongjoong paced around the brig, his head facing towards the ceiling, "As the pirate king, I need a..how can I say this, a plaything? No..a cocksleeve is more like it. Someone who can entertain myself and my crew." He quickly slammed himself onto the bars with a laugh, which startled the prince greatly.

"Having a royal was the perfect choice." Hongjoong peeled himself away.

"What on earth are you talking about, vile pirate? You couldn't just find some woman, not a man, a crown prince at that?" His eyebrows furrowed in disgust.

"Are you shaming my sexuality, little prince?" Hongjoong's gaze darkened with anger, "I'm a pirate, we don't like women aboard our ships. They're bad luck."

The prince rolled his eyes, "No, I'm not shaming you, but why me?"

"Because. I can."

Hongjoong walked away and whispered in his crewmates ear, "Bring him to my quarters and stand guard outside."

With that Hongjoong left and the other man unlocked the cell, cutting the rope on the prince's legs. He hoisted him up very roughly, "Let's go, pretty boy. You're in for a fun time with my captain, lucky you." He smirked and pulled him up the stairs to bring him up-deck.

Seonghwa shoved the prince into Hongjoong's room and shut the door behind him once he left and stood guard outside. The captain smiled and pulled him to his bed.

Hongjoong pulled a knife out of his boot and sliced off the rope on his wrists, "I need your hands free for what I'm gonna do to you." He smirked as he climbed on top of the confused man.

"Wait, I didn't agree to be your cock-" He cried out as he was interrupted by Hongjoong grabbing on his bulge.

"Are you sure about that? Because I saw the way you were looking at my lackey. Don't tell me the good little prince is hiding in the closet?"

His face flushed red in embarrassment and pushed gently on Hongjoong's chest, "Shut up, pirate!"

"Tell me your name, crown prince."

"It's M/N.."

"Well, M/N, I'm gonna ruin you for any woman and for any chance of you giving heirs to your kingdom. You're mine now."

He whimpered beneath Hongjoong and straightened up his body.

Hongjoong sat up and pulled down his own pants just to pull out his cock, slighty startling M/N in the process.

"Oh my-" He tried to scramble away.

"Calm down, pretty boy. You can handle it."

"How is that going to fit!" He scoffed.

"Really? You think this is far too big to fit inside? Well then, looks like I'll have to introduce you to someone later." He chuckled as he yanked down the prince's trousers and threw them wherever.

Hongjoong's fingers danced around M/N's tight ring and slowly pushed a couple in, receiving a loud moan from the prince in response.

When he deemed he was ready, he pushed his cock in with a grunt. M/N let out a couple tears from the stretch and wrapped his arms around Hongjoong's neck.

Hongjoong watched as his cock sunk repeatedly into M/N's ass, with a crazy grin, "Fuck, you're practically pulling me in. Wanted a cock that bad?" He giggled.

M/N let out several assorted moans and cries each time Hongjoong slammed his hips against his.

Hongjoong pulled his own shirt into his mouth to get a better view of his assault on M/N's hole.

After a few more thrusts, Hongjoong flipped M/N into a doggy style position and called out for best mate, Seonghwa.

"Seonghwa, get your ass in here and get undressed!" He barked out.

The male walked in, slamming the door behind him and stripped himself of his clothes, cock already hard and standing at attention, "Yes, Captain?"

Never stopping his thrusting, he looked back at Seonghwa, "Get underneath him." He growled and turned back to M/N, "You're going to fuck him with me."

"Yes sir." Seonghwa climbed underneath the nearly fucked out prince with a grin, his hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes rolling into the back of his head each time Hongjoong hit that perfect spot.

Seonghwa pressed their cocks together and gave them a couple tugs before letting go and guiding his cock to M/N's already occupied hole. It was a hard stretch, especially with M/N's protesting.

"Wait! I can't take two at once!"

"You can, and you will." Hongjoong growled as he felt Seonghwa's cock slide against his inside of M/N.

Both men were jackhammering into the poor prince as he fell on top of Seonghwa's chest, he felt like he was in heaven, he was very overstimulated but didn't care. Being fucked by two cocks was the best thing in his opinion. Hongjoong was right. He was definitely hiding in the closet and was more than happy to come out if this was the result.

M/N was leaking so much cum from his cock onto Seonghwa and he couldn't help it. Not with the way they were fucking him, like he was a doll and nothing more.

Hongjoong suddenly stopped and grinned mischievously, "Sorry to break your fun early, Seonghwa. But, I need you to go get our biggest, tell him..I have a plaything for him. Then go back to guard duty."

Seonghwa sighed and pulled out, and slipped out from underneath the weak prince, "Fine, but you owe me." He grumbled and threw his clothes back on and left.

Hongjoong also pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants, leaving the limp boy on the bed, "Like I said, I'm gonna introduce you to someone." He walked over to his desk chair and watched as the naked prince laid nearly asleep on his bed, "Don't fall asleep, I'm not done with you, pretty boy."

A few minutes passed and a very big man walked in, "Captain?" He approached Hongjoong's desk.

"My bed. Have fun." He grinned and watched as Yunho slowly turned around to see M/N, "He's all nice and stretched out for you. No need to be fragile with him."

Yunho smiled, "Thank you, captain." He walked over to the prince and took his massive cock out, "Hey there, just lay there. Don't need to do anything. I got it." He pulled M/N's hips to his as he faced down on the bed, too weak to move, he didn't even feel like turning around to see how 'big' this man was.

Yunho roughly pushed his cock in, stretching M/N with his girth and length alone.

M/N groaned and squeezed the blanket beneath him, "So big.." he muttered and squeezed his eyes shut as Yunho fucked into him, his hips angled in such a way that he was doing nothing but slamming against M/N's prostate, repeatedly.

Hongjoong watched with a grin, fisting at his own cock without a sound from his lips.

But by the time Yunho had cum, M/N was already falling asleep, and Yunho was still rock hard.

"Sir, he's passing out, little thing can't keep up with me." Yunho chuckled.

"Then pull out and return later, he can't consent if he's asleep. I'll call for your comeback." Hongjoong sighed in annoyance and waved off Yunho.

"I'll clean him up." He grumbled and watched as Yunho left.

Hongjoong then walked over and leaned into M/N's ear, "I have five other men who will love playing with your hole, pretty boy~"

#hongjoong smut #yunho smut #seonghwa smut #pirate au #ateez smut #ateez x male reader #ateez male reader #male reader smut

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stubz · 3 months

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late shift

Shuttle for Mars is departing now. Please keep hands, feet, tails, and other appendages clear of the yellow line.

‘Nice, finally get off work on time for once! Man is it empty, way less busy than the 5:45 one…

Are they sleeping? Please tell me they’re sleeping…’

“Snnrk…”

‘Oh good they are, oooh lots of empty seats next to them! Nice.’

The young human sits across the large figure and looks around.

‘Wonder why everyone else is sitting so far away from this guy? He’s not that much scarier than a Alteauh…OH! He’s an Orc! An actual Orc, oh this is so cool! Wait. Calm down, control yourself. Orc’s are people too, not some exotic animal in a zoo….he’s sooo cool looking tho!’

The human smiles and takes out their headphones and listens to some music and take in the view they see through the shuttle’s windows. From time to time they peek at the orc, can’t helping themselves from people-watching him.

Like what most humans imagined, he was huge. Easily more than 7 feet tall, with large calloused hands bigger than their head. He had large tusks but unlike the stereotypes he was well trimmed with well relatively kept hair. It would have neater had there not been dust in it. The orc wore dirty cloths and work boots. Beside them what looked like a tool box and bag.

‘Must be a construction worker or works in a trade’ they mused

‘Poor guy, he’s gotta be exhausted to sleep here. At least he gets to go home now.’

The shuttle shakes and with it so does the sleeping giant. Rocking side to side.

'That's not good.' They nervously slide off their headphones.

The turbulence increases until the sleeping orc leans too far and starts fall face first off his seat.

“OH SHIT!” Diving to their knees they manage to catch his head and shoulders.

“Mm?”

“You okay?” Damn he's heavy!

“Mmm…sorry.” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he slowly got back into his seat, the turbulence now gone.

“No worries, I just didn’t want you to hit your head.”

“Heh, wouldn't be the first time I’ve done it.”

after rubbing his eyes a bit more and a crack of the neck he looks at them, brain finally working to some degree.

“…wait. You caught me?”

“Uh-huh”

“But you’re so small! Are you hurt?”

“You're not the first sleeping giant I’ve caught. I’m alright.”

“I am so sorry for that. I just finished working a 12 hour shift fixing the 1st and 3rd engine rooms and couldn’t help myself from dozing off.”

They whistle. “12 hours? No wonder you’re tired! If I were you I’d be in a coma.”

“Ah but surely you have a difficult job yourself. How else would you be able to catch me?”

“No, nothing like yours! I just work at a youngling centre.”

“The one on the ship?”

“That’s the one.”

“...YOUR ONE OF THE BRAVE WARRIORS WHO RISKED THEIR LIVES TO PROTECT THE CHILDREN??!”

“…you’ve heard of us?”

“Every orc and warrior worth their blade knows of your valiant deeds!! Tell me, what is your name??”

“Kim, uh and you are?”

“Fenrir. It is truly an honor to meet someone of your bravery and intelligence."

"Likewise! I've heard that the orc species are a true warrior race."

For the rest of the trip the two talked. Kim sharing how her and Max built such a safe room in the centre, which lead to the two realizing how similar each other's planets are.

"You have wind whirlpools as well? I thought they only existed on Bantor!"

"Well we call them hurricanes and tornadoes but yeah. Do you guys have hail?"

"Not where I grew up but nearby farther up they get a week or two of light hail showers during the fall. What about animals? Do you have reptiles bigger than an adult with large teeth and live in rivers? We call them darthrang."

"Oh we call them crocodiles!"

"Amazing! To think that your species live in a world much like mine!"

When the shuttle finally reached it's destination the two went their separate ways. A few days later they meet again, this time on the later shuttle. They sit and talk and create a routine of sorts where they became each others travelling companion for the trip to Mars.

One day however, Fenrir stopped coming. The human was saddened as she enjoyed his company but was soon surprised when seeing him at the centre.

"Kim! I've been transferred to stay on the ship so I won't be taking the shuttle to Mars anymore."

"Oh...well, as you know I only go home at the end of the week so maybe we can hang out now. Like eat lunch together or have a drink after work...or something like that!"

"Actually we'll be seeing each other everyday now. But if you don't get sick of me then yes, lets each lunch together."

"Great! But why will I be seeing you everyday?"

"Because after telling my family about you and the centre they've enrolled my nieces and nephews and younger siblings here...and I offered to drop them off and pick them up."

It was then that Kim noticed the dozen of orc children hiding behind Fenrir. The tallest and what looked the eldest of them stepped forward.

"Hello, I am Athea, uncle Fenrir said your one of the ones who saved the centre."

"Yes, my name is Kim. It's great to meet you AtheaaAA!" The orc girl pulled the human into a tight hug, lifting the adult woman off of her feet.

"Thank you for saving Nova." she mumbled into her chest.

'Ah, the Captain's daughter' Kim thought. "I was just doing what any teacher would do."

After a moment the human was put down and lead the children into the centre. The day went well. Fenrir's young family members were quickly won over by the humans, first with the saving of the centre, then with how they understood how wonderful their planet was rather than terrifying or deadly.

They were also greatly intrigued by how such a small species could survive in a planet that was thought to only be habitable to orcs.

"How can you carry us?" asked Thor, one of Fenrir's youngest brothers. "We're much bigger than a human child."

"Yeah but your not bigger than my cousins who are teenagers. Also just last month I had like 10 kids climbing on me. Two were tighalaxes."

"Your joking!"

...

"It that tumpon?!"

"Hm? We call it maafe, but it's also known as peanut stew, do you want some? It doesn't have any meat in it though."

"Guys Max has tumpon!! Can you tell Fenrir where we can buy the ingredients?"

"Of course. Finally I'll finish what gran gave me without having to gain 10 pounds."

And thus the first day ended on a high note! Now if only Kim could figure out why the children looked at her and nodded while talking to Fenrir...

So this based off of a post by @llamagoddessofficial about humans meeting actual space orcs. Sadly I can't find the actual post. but yeah, here u go, space orc and human meet cute

#the adventures of kim and max running a space child care centre #space orcs #humans are space orcs #humans in space #the beginning is something that actually happened to me #caught a sleeping construction worker who I sat across from on the bus when heading home from work #thankfully he was just a little taller than me and not a giant like fenrir #also my brother went through a phase of randomly doing trust falls in front of me so I am experienced in randomly having to catch people

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whimsicalwritingsandmore · 3 months

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Replay | ateez x reader

Pairing: pirate!ateez x adventurer!reader

Genre: adventure, fantasy, time travel, poly

Warnings: mention of a panic attack, mention of a sharp object.

Word Count: 1475 words

Summary: You're given a second chance to change things. But will you go or stay?

a/n: hello hello! welcome to my first one-shot! (but not really hehe) if you're new and found my account for the first time, I hope you enjoy my stories and it's really wonderful to have you here! :) In an update a while ago, I mentioned that I currently have a plethora of story ideas that I would love to develop into a full-length series one day, but for now, in order to not overwhelm myself, I will be posting these stories as one-shots/imagines so that I can share it with all of you and come back to it later on! This is my first one inspired by Marry My Husband and set in a world like the Choices' game Blades of Light and Shadow! Let me know what you think and happy reading! <3

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You're standing at the plank, back against the sea, tears streaming down your face. You refuse to look up at your lovers. There's a rollercoaster of emotions going on inside you, ranging from pain, hurt and betrayal to anger.

They chose her over you, believed her melodious and cunning lies, and expect you to apologize to her. You're not looking up but from under your eyes, you can see her figure cozying up next to Wooyoung's. He's telling her not to cry, wiping away those crocodile tears in contrast to your real ones.

Raw rage is slowly thrumming through your veins and resentment is coiling in your stomach as a vortex of anger gradually swirls inside. You've had enough honestly and you were no longer going to bend to anyone.

"Just apologize Y/N." Hongjoong remarks in a cold and distant voice.

His sword is right in front of you, barring you from getting off the plank.

"For what?" you respond icily, "I've done nothing wrong."

Hongjoong grumbles under his breath and another person steps in, you recognize its Seonghwa by his boots.

"Please Y/N, don't be childish. Aera is younger than you, she needs us to look after her. You can't get jealous so easily."

Jealous. Such a funny word coming out of your lover's mouth. It's hypocritical rather, because your eight lovers lose it over the slightest glance someone casts in your direction.

You find it ridiculous.

The girl weasled her way onto the ship, and you had a bad feeling about it since day one. But you didn't think it would come to this.

Love. That's all you ever wanted, and you found it in these eight men, who you had been with since the age of 16. They loved you more than anything, at least, that's what they said.

The only thing you want more than anything right now is to go back and choose differently.

"I—" you declare, "I hope in my next life, true love finds me."

"Y/N what—" Yunho begins but you cut him off.

"I hope I meet someone who truly loves me and I hope it isn't any of you."

You raise your head and look at Hongjoong directly in his eyes. He's taken aback at that cold and empty look in yours. He can see the wheels turning in your head but he’s not sure what you’re planning.

"Traitor." You verbalize before running into his sword.

"NO!" All eight voices ring out.

Shouts and screams erupt from all eight men as your blood begins to stain Hongjoong’s sword.

"Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Hongjoong screams.

You pull away and stumble backward towards the edge. San tries to reach for you but you pull your hand away and fall into the sea.

You're thinking this is where your story ends but actually dear one, this is only the beginning.

You startle out of your trance. You're in the fortune teller's shop. Blinking around haphazardly, you try to zero-in on your surroundings. Memories flood into your mind as you recognize where you are. This is the shop you visited when you were in the town of Maverick - it would be a month before everything happens.

You're dumbstruck by what just happened. Just moments ago, you were on the plank, ran yourself into Hongjoong’s sword and fell into the cold raging sea. Now, sitting in front of you, the elderly tarot reader draws some cards and gives you a reading.

"You're in for a big change dearie. I see the wheel of fortune is in your favour but be warned, the justice card reversed suggests there is dishonesty somewhere. "

“And this one?” you ask, pointing to the death card.

“In its upright position, it reveals that beginnings and change is expected. You’re nearing the end of a cycle.”

You don't ask for a further explanation, you pay and leave, walking back to the tavern where the boys are currently in. But as you walk out the shop's door, it begins to rain.

No...

Immediately, memories rush into your mind as you recall the timeline of events. It will rain and then the dam that's near the town will break, unleashing a flood. Aera is already with you all, the boys bringing her back home to her father after she got herself caught up with some misfits. But when the flood hits, everyone will scamper and she will come back with you all, joining the crew and then ruining everything you had with the boys.

Reaching the tavern, you watch from outside: all the boys are sitting around a table while Aera's father brings another round of drinks, and says something to Hongjoong. Aera stands at the far back of the room but you can tell there is something on her mind, that dubious and suspicious glint in her eyes. Her father walks back, she asks him something and then he scolds her before walking away. She balls her fists but then regains her composure before hopping over to your boys.

Previously, none of this had happened, as far as you remembered. After visiting the tarot reader, you waltzed into the tavern, pecked San and Jongho on the cheeks before placing yourself next to Yeosang who drew you closer to sit on his lap, his arm around you bringing you in closer. Aera did not come and sit with you all.

This time you hesitate entering the tavern, wondering if wandering around, accidentally getting lost or going the other way would be better.

Love. That's all you ever wanted and you thought it would be with these eight boys. Now, you weren't so sure.

Little did you know, this moment of hesitation will change the course of your life. As you continue to think about your next course of action, a figure runs into you, bringing you down with him.

"What the—" Before you can even question, the figure jolts up, ready to run again. But you're quick on your feet too, and you grab the person by their wrist.

"Now wait a minute Mister," you begin but you're cut off by shrill shouts.

"There he is! Get him!"

You turn to the voices but before you can look at the person, he grabs your hand and pulls you with him.

You have no idea why you're even running with him. You're strong enough to break free and go your merry way but as you study his back, you're intrigued — this black hair guy has a pretty feathered twist in his hair and silver dangle earrings. Something about him entices you.

He leads you down an alleyway, over a wall and then into an open field. The next thing you knew, you are on top of a hill that overlooks the town. He brings you behind a tree and you rest against the bark, trying to regulate your breath. The stranger crouches down attempting to do the same.

"You're insane." You remark.

"Yeah well, you were slowing me down so I had to bring you with me if I wanted to get away."

He doesn’t seem dangerous but rather, very amiable. The rain has stopped and there is only a slight drizzle, but from on top of the hill, you can see the dam that’s about to burst.

"No...the dam..." you mutter in-between breaths.

The stranger turns to the dam’s direction and his eyes widen. The dam erupts and rains down like a waterfall. You watch in fear and fright at the sight and your mind races to the boys, but deep down you know that they'll escape.

But this time, you're not with them. You're with this stranger, now apart from them.

"Hey are you okay?"

There's a wave of emotions and you feel yourself spiralling into panic. Your heart pounds in your chest and a familiar grip of fear tightens your chest, each breath of yours shallower than the last. Suddenly, the stranger holds you gently, looking at you with a reassuring calmness.

"Hey, don’t look there, look at me okay? Deep breaths, you can do it, take your time and follow me."

You do as you're told, the stranger running soothing circles on your forearms provides a sense of comfort and relief, and after a few minutes you finally compose yourself, staring out at the now submerged town. It's heartbreaking.

"Where are you going to go?" he asks.

"I don't know." You answer.

The stranger hums and thinks for a minute before getting up and stretching out his hand for yours.

"Let's get going together then."

You're taken aback by his boldness but fascinated and captivated at the same time.

"I don't even know your name." you voice out.

He helps you up and gives you a polite smile, one that is soft and heartfelt.

"Yoonghoon. My name is Kim Yoonghoon."

#ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #poly!ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez series

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bby-deerling · 5 months

Note

Congrats on 250! Just found your account :) could I request “In the closet” with zoro?

coming right up, anon! <3

zoro + in the closet (afab!fem!reader, nsfw)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.7k masterlist

cw: boot kink??(i dont even know what to call it zoro steps on you), a bit of religious imagery, teasing, established relationship + soft zoro (bc i cannot help myself, you know the drill by now), zoro's rough on you during training (non-sexual)

tagging: @eelnois @ragethebunny @kaizokuniichan @sleepymarimo

Jaw clenched in frustration after another failed strike, you try your best to land on your toes and maintain balance—a feat that became increasingly more difficult the longer this sparring session went on. Time had long since become an illusion, but the blood pumping in your ears as you stumbled made it clear that you were currently pushing past your limits as you try in vain once more to land a hit on Zoro with your practice daggers.

The two of you had volunteered to stay behind this afternoon while the rest of the crew restocked supplies and milled around the island you were docked at, with the promise that you’d be headed off the ship to deplete a local bar of their stock of sake that evening. In the meantime, the two of you were sparring; your pulse quickened, determined to set aside the aches tingling through your body and bruises forming on your skin. He’s easily evading your attacks, and you get desperate to make contact with him—using the last of the strength in your legs, you launch yourself into the air, aiming to land a hit with both daggers into his shoulders. You’re quick, but his reaction time is quicker, and he spins around, whacking you right in the gut with his wooden katana and sending you flying.

The plush grass of the ship’s lawn softens your fall much more than the harsh wooden deck would, but you’re still winded and gasping for air as you land flat on your back. Keeping yourself upright had given you the push to continue past your breaking point, but being laid out on the ground with your heart above your head made your limbs feel like jelly and a wave of fatigue violently crashes over you. Struggling to move, you begin to push yourself up off the ground, only to have Zoro slam you back on the ground with his boot. Placed strategically on top of your center of gravity, you’re left powerless, unable to sit up or roll away in your weakened state.

“Thought you said you could keep up with me today. Look at you now.” he teases, pressing his weight a touch harder into your stomach.

“Zoro, let me get up, I’m not done yet!” you protest, trying to wriggle yourself out from under his boot. Too distracted by your attempts to break free and land a hit on him, you miss the way his breath hitches seeing you writhe underneath him; he tries his best to swallow down the longing he feels and stay focused, affected not just from the sight of you squirming under him, but also from the way you’re still itching for a fight, refusing to give up despite being beaten and bruised—you’re just like him in that way, and it never failed to turn him on.

“Nope.” he says with a smirk, arms crossed and composure regained. “You think an enemy would let you go just like that?”

With a deep exhale, your body goes limp as you look up at him, eyes sparkling with love and adoration, a dreamy smile spread across your face. “Please let me up, Zoro?” you ask sweetly, trying to suppress a giggle as you gaze up at him.

Zoro rolls his eyes and stifles a chuckle. “That only works on me. Good luck using that in the wild.” he says dismissively, refusing to budge despite the way his cock was beginning to throb in his boxers.

You scoff, crossing your arms. “It’d work on the cook.” you say, mischievous grin creeping onto your face.

“So would two circles drawn on the chest of a stick figure. Hardly an accomplishment.” he says while rolling his eyes; something about the way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles, causing you to laugh so hard you nearly forget he has you pinned to the ground—until his boot moves downward, and the toe of his shoe presses into your clit through your flimsy workout shorts. A shaky gasp leaves your lips as your eyes widen, pink flush quickly spreading across your cheeks.

“Changed my mind. Sparring session’s over; we’re training your core now.” he says, demonic grin on his face as he watches you eye him in anticipation. He bends at the waist and leans down slightly, getting a good look at the way your need for him is plastered all over your face, from the gleam in your eyes to the flush on your cheeks.

“You’re not going anywhere until you get yourself off on my boot.” he says lowly, pressing his toe harder against you, exhaling in amusement as your hips roll against his shoe. Unbeknownst to you, that look on your face had worked on Zoro, it just didn’t have its intended effect—instead of letting you up, it only strengthened his resolve to keep you underneath him.

“What if someone sees?” you squeak out, hesitantly rocking against him, lust beginning to override the rational part of your mind.

"Better make it quick then." he taunts, letting out a soft groan as you give in to him, watching your body relax, inhibitions vaporizing into thin air as you grind your hips into his boot.

Walls spasming around nothing, your arousal grows as your hips find a steady rhythm against him, letting out gasps and soft moans as he repeatedly presses his boot deeper against your clit before slightly easing up. Before long, you’re a writhing mess, completely consumed by your burning need for him that you have no qualms or shame about rubbing yourself on him on the deck in the middle of the day without reservations.

The sight of you squirming and stuttering your hips overwhelms Zoro, and he pulls his twitching cock out of his sweatpants, lewdly spitting on his hand before stroking himself. Each gasp and grunt that he makes as he jerks off to you sends you further towards the edge, making your movements against him more erratic and desperate.

“Look at you—so needy. Last night not enough for you?” he taunts, enjoying the way his words make you blush and squirm against his shoe, seeking more friction against your bud.

“Y-you’re too good. Only makes me want more.” you stammer out, hips stuttering against him. Eyes darkened, your gaze was fixed on his cock; a soft whimper escapes your lips each time his fingers catch on the tip as he strokes himself for you. The heat creeping into your cheeks and tension building in your body makes your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the rhythm of your hips. Zoro notices you’re close and lends you some mercy, pressing his boot the slightest bit harder against you; a few more snaps of your hips has you unraveling for him, head buzzing and body twitching and sprawled out on the lawn.

“You always look so hot when you come for me.” he says with a lopsided smile, removing his foot from you and dropping to his knees to pull your hips towards him. The look in his eye is hungry, and you can’t help but smile wide in anticipation; your own gaze is still hazy and glazed over, still basking in the afterglow of your high.

“So messy. These are soaked.” he teases as he peels your shorts and panties off; a shiver runs down your spine as the damp fabric trails along the insides of your thighs.

His lips brush along your collarbone as he lines himself up with your needy entrance, brushing the head between your folds to coat it in your slick arousal. He slips inside you in one fluid motion, breath stuttering at the way your walls pull his cock in deep. Ecstasy runs hot through both of your veins, and the electricity caused by finally feeling the heat of his body against and inside you leaves your face tingling.

Zoro’s strokes start out slow and loving, but quickly pick up speed as he slips a hand underneath you to grip your ass and pull your hips up, burying his cock even deeper inside of you. A whimper leaves your mouth as you feel him nearly kiss your cervix; he muffles your sounds with his lips, eager to slip his warm tongue into your mouth. Swirling your own tongue against his, you moan into the kiss as he cups your face, keeping you pressed as close to him as possible.

The earth below you opens up and swallows you whole as he fucks you into the grass; the soft green blades tickle your ears as you find yourself feeling sucked into hell as you devote your body and hand over your soul to the demon. Smothered by his mouth on yours, the drag of his cock inside you, and the warmth of his chest against yours, you can’t help but let the wire snap and clench around him, resealing the pact you’ve made with him so many times before.

His breath is ragged in your ears, and even in your dizzy and disoriented state you can tell he was close; his strokes were getting sloppy, and his grip on your hips tightened, likely to add another bruise to the collection he’d given you today. With a muffled gasp and a twitch of his legs, he spills inside you; it’s hot and creamy and almost too much as you feel it start to drip out of you, even with him still inside you. Panting and exhausted, he lets himself go limp on top of you while he catches his breath and comes down from his high.

“You did well today, lil’ demon.” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek and running a soothing hand through your hair. “You’re landing more strikes on me, and your form was great until you hit your failure point.”

A content hum leaves your lips, sheepishly grinning at his praise. “Gonna work twice as hard tomorrow.” you mumble as you lean up to peck his lips. “I’ll catch up to you someday.”

“You’ll get there.” he says reassuringly, rubbing comforting circles into your scalp. “Just don’t expect me to lag behind waiting for you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” you reply, giving him a soft smile. He grins back at you, as you both soak up the love, pride, and adoration radiating from each other, intangible and too profound to be spoken in words.

There are dozens of unconscious, idiosyncratic actions you do that spur him to crave you, but the way you make him soft like no one else can affects him most of all.

#one piece x reader #x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece smut #mdni #flajsflks the boots ?!!!!!#i went feral writing this #god i need him #250 follower event

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bi-writes · 1 year

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the space between us | the mandalorian

sometimes i just wish that when you go, you will finally ask me to come with you.

type: one-shot word count: 13.4k (cant help myself) pairing: the mandalorian x afab!fem!princess!reader warnings: mature language and content, mature written sexual content (read at your own discretion), 🔞⚠️ summary: in four acts, a senator's daughter finds her true standing as her mandalorian ally discovers what is truly important, above all else. complete masterlist

act i: the introduction

It was raining. The clouds were dark and hovered over heavily, and the grounds of the landing bay were wet and slippery.

You opted for much more practical clothing today. Dark trousers tucked into your boots, a blade fitted into the sides of both. A warm long sleeve, of soft material, keeping you warm from the elements, with your waist defined by a corseted belt of dark leather. Your hair was up and out of your face, and you wore no jewelry. You blended well with the crew, but they recognized you easily, bowing out of your way as you admired the ships docked.

You pulled your hood up as you stood back a bit to look at a ship you didn’t recognize. It was an older model, archived as far as you knew, but here it sat in all its pre-Empire glory in your landing bay. You watched as a few crewmembers patched up a hole on the side of it, another few tightening loose bolts along one of the engines. The ramp was down, giving you a glimpse of the inside, and you made your way up slowly, your eyebrows raising as you smoothed a hand over the panel by a chamber in the back. A carbonite chamber. Your fingers grazed over a few buttons, and then you left to find another panel, curiously pressing a few switches there. A hiss sounded behind you, and you turned to see a closet, an arsenal, of weapons on display. You stepped closer, admiring them. A few different blaster models, detonators of many sizes. You had fond memories of training with many of them.

You reached for one of the vibroblades. It was crafted carefully, curved from the short handle into a deadly point, with a few inches of serration along the sharp edge. You lifted it off of its holder, twirling the blade between your fingers with ease, letting the weight of it grow comfortable in your hand.

You jumped with surprise when the cabinet doors suddenly swished closed. You turned around quickly, twisting the blade in your hand until the handle was firmly in your grasp. You made a move, swiping over your left, but your forearm was blocked easily. You made another move, swiping at them with your free hand to get your arm loose before using your heel to kick their knee in, forcing them onto their knees.

A modulated grunt of surprise came, but just as quick as you won an advantage, you lost it. Yanking your still out-stretched arm, you were flipped over their armored shoulder, bruising your side before you were slammed onto your back on the floor of the ship. You let out a sigh of discomfort, dropping the blade and putting your arms in front of your face.

“I yield!” You said, breathless. “Stars—” You groaned a bit as your side throbbed. “I yield…”

You dropped your arms, blinking up until you got a better look at the figure kneeling over you. Your eyes were focused on a cuirass of strong steel, colored a curious shade of red. Your eyes raised to meet a helmet made of the same material but in shining silver, a dark visor trained right on you, tilted to the side in an unamused manner. You did not need to see their face to know they were not happy at all finding you here, let alone being swung at with a sharp blade.

“Oh—” You let out a soft breath, relaxing back against the floor. Your side still throbbed dully. “Is this…this is your ship, isn’t it?”

You felt warm with embarrassment, feeling guilty for snooping in his clearly very private space. You were met with silence, but the silence was affirmative. This was indeed his ship, and you were definitely invading his privacy.

You sat up, level with him as he remained on his knee to glare at you up close. You gave him an apologetic smile, trying to ease the tension in the air. You had not meant to meddle in his things; and your reaction was pure instinct, nothing more.

He continued to remain silent. You apologized softly for intruding, holding out your hand and giving him your name to introduce yourself. He said nothing still, and you dropped your hand when you realized this armored man was going to say nothing of value, maybe nothing at all. You let your eyes run over his impressive armor, the collection of weapons that he practically dripped with, and the iconic shape of his helmet. You tilted your head yourself, gazing at him curiously.

“A Mandalorian,” you concluded with a soft voice. “One of the greatest warriors in the galaxy, then.” You raised a brow, looking him up and down a bit. “I don’t know. You fell on your ass pretty easily.”

Silence again. Then he stood, looming over you. He held out his hand for you to take, and you did, wrapping your hand in his and trying not to think about how easily he was able to lift you off the floor. You were level with him now, but it didn’t make him any less intimidating.

“Well,” he quipped. “It wasn’t me who yielded.”

You laughed, smiling wide as you felt the air relax immediately. You hummed in agreement, finally letting go of his hand as you bent to pick up the blade and hand it to him.

“I guess I won’t argue there,” you sighed, your smile staying as you looked around, away from him. “I…I’m sorry for snooping. Your ship is just…I’ve never seen a pre-Empire model before. I was…curious.” You shook your head, “I-I mean it’s old and…it’s definitely seen better days—” He tilted his head to the side in warning, “—b-but it’s such a classic…geez, I’d love to ask you about the—”

“I’m on a tight schedule,” he interrupted you. You pursed your lips, laughing nervously as you nodded in understanding.

“Uh…right,” you shook your head, “yeah, I…you’re super busy. I’ll get out of your way. I’m sorry.” You smoothed your sweaty palms along the front of your pants, meeting the visor again and trying to give him your kindest smile. “It was nice to meet you, Mandalorian. Safe travels.” You reached over and put your hand against his elbow, squeezing the unarmored fabric there. He was warm, you noticed. The Mandalorian dropped his gaze to where your hand laid, fingers curled so gently there. No one ever touched him, not like this; he had only really ever felt hands that wanted to hurt him, choke him, even kill him sometimes. But as quickly as you touched him, your hands were back at your sides, and you were walking away from him.

You made your way out of the ship, careful not to slip on the wet durasteel of the ramp. You waved down the nearest crewmember, motioning to the Mandalorian’s ship.

“Refuel his ship and send him on his way. No need to charge for repairs,” you told him. You did feel bad for invading his space; the least you could do was try not to get on his bad side, even if he was just passing by your planet. You hoped it would smooth over any ill impressions and instead replace it with a sense of hospitality and kindness.

“But—”

You gave the crewmember an amused look, daring him to argue with you. He nodded his head, blushing as he mumbled a gentle apology. You saw the Mandalorian staring at you from the top of the ramp, and you smiled at him again, giving him a little salute. He watched as you pulled your hood up and walked down the length of the landing bay and back towards the palace; he noticed immediately how every crewmember bowed as you passed, acknowledging you even if they were occupied with busywork. He swallowed hard, tilting his head curiously, picking up the scope in his belt and zeroing in on your figure in the distance. There, on your left hand, was a golden ring he had missed, stamped with the signet of your house, the only jewelry you were wearing.

Gods…who the hell had he just met?

act ii: the duel

“Yield! Yield!”

You released the royal guard with a huff, pushing your hair back as you stood up from your position over him. You offered him your hand, and he took it, getting up with difficulty as he grunted with exhaustion. He was bruised, you could tell, holding his side as he leaned against the post next to him in the yard. Your eyes roamed around the yard, watching as the other guards in training had stopped their sparring to watch you. When you asked for another challenger, you were met with silence.

“No one wants to challenge you, Your Highness,” a familiar voice laughed behind you. You turned around, seeing the Senator’s advisor walking into the yard with a recognizable bounty hunter trailing slowly behind him. “The embarrassment alone is enough to make any man think twice.”

“There is honor in being bested in combat,” you replied simply. You turned to look at the guards around you, acknowledging them with nods. “You should never be embarrassed by it. There is no shame. It is an opportunity to learn. To fight better.”

You took a deep breath, looking over at your new company. You smiled at the Mandalorian, a mischievous glint in your eye. He was looking exceptionally pretty today, perhaps he had polished his armor. He leaned against a post in the yard, his arms crossed in front of him as he watched curiously. Your eyes fell over the broadness of his shoulders to the cinch of his belt around his waist, then down to the ammunition around the calf of his boot and back up again. The air around him even seemed to be filled with a bit of smoke and even a little fire. He seemed content here, in the yard filled with the sounds of blaster fire and grunts of scuffles. He belonged, and his posture was one of ease and familiarity.

Stars—the Mandalorian was indeed pretty.

“Hello, Mandalorian,” you greeted him softly. You stood a bit straighter, eyes never leaving where you hoped his were. You liked the staring contest. “It’s been some time.”

He nodded at you, but he said nothing. You continued to stand in the sparring circle, lifting up the staff you had dropped onto the ground some time ago. You twirled it in your hand for a moment, looking him up and down again, this time not hiding the way your eyes roamed him. You wanted him to know you were sizing him up, looking at him; you were certain though, that a man of his skill had already noticed you do it the first time.

“I challenge you,” you offered. “First to yield wins.”

“Your Highness, no,” the royal advisor stopped you. He was about to step further into the yard, but the muddy ground would have dirtied the velvet robes he wore. He laughed nervously, shaking his head. “The Mandalorian is here on official business, a guest of the court—”

The Mandalorian just walked past him, hitting the advisor with his arm as he passed. You smiled knowingly, watching as the Mandalorian stepped into the circle with no hesitation. You liked him even more like this, preparing to spar, preparing to show off what he knew best, the thing about him that came as natural as breathing.

The Mandalorian had warfare in his blood; he slept with a blaster strapped to his thigh, a blade on his person. He had been in this position many times, and it was his consistent winning that had gotten him this far. In some way, it pleased him deeply that he would get to show you just how he earned his reputation. He wanted to show off. He wanted to show off to you.

You could only imagine how Mandalorians spent their days. You did not know much about their culture, but it was no secret that they did nothing but polish their weapons and spar until they could spar no longer. They were fighters from the inside-out, until their second nature was refined combat and a mastery of any weapon they could get their hands on. They gained honor and respect through trials of difficulty and danger, and they took their principle to the grave. Their Creed was an invisible hand that guided them through their life, steering them onto paths of righteousness, noble deeds, and at the end, hopefully, a warrior’s death.

With this knowledge, you knew it would be practically un-Mandalorian to turn down your challenge. You knew he was probably itching under that armor to fall back into the familiar routine of daily sparring, challenging his peers until he heard that sweet sound of their yield, of their plea for him to stop, to know that he had won.

You were in need of a true adversary; he was in need of…perhaps a certain release.

The royal guards who were just watching nearby suddenly showed interest. They seemed to abandon whatever they had been doing to watch as you and the Mandalorian stood across from each other in the circle, marked by a ring of misshapen stones. More guards started to gather around; some of them crowded around the circle, others were perched up along the walls of the palace and watching from the ledges above and around you.

“First to be forced out of the circle or to yield loses,” you said to him. “The only rule.”

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head to the side, standing with his feet spread, his arms at his sides as his hands came in and out of fists. He seemed to gesture to the array of weapons he had strapped to his person—detonators, perhaps a hidden blade in his belt or his boot, the blaster on his hip.

You laughed a bit, “I wouldn’t worry about that.” You licked your dry lips, moving the staff you held from one hand to the other, rolling out your neck. “Would you like to take the offensive?”

The Mandalorian stayed still now, the only movement being the cape draped behind him blowing in the slight breeze. He nodded once in agreement.

You began to walk around the perimeter of the circle. The Mandalorian copied your movement, his visor trained on you as you both began to move. You started to walk towards him, passing by him as your gaze never left his. You almost made it past him, but then you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and yank you backwards. You used the momentum of him pulling you backwards to twirl under his arm, breaking free of his grip. Behind him, you lifted your leg and kicked at his back hard, throwing him forward.

The crowd let out a few gasps and hollers as the Mandalorian stumbled back to his feet, turning to face you. There was a hint of a smile on your face, amusement at his underestimation of your skill. Mandalorians were not the only warriors in the galaxy, didn’t he know that?

You raised a brow with a huff of breath as he came at you again. He threw a fist that you blocked, and when his other arm came under to try and undercut you, you managed to barely knock it to the side after dropping your staff. He was fast for being so much larger than you, and you hadn’t anticipated the quick advances. You struggled for a bit to keep his hands away from you, but eventually your grip loosened enough for him to draw his elbow back and shove you backwards. You caught your footing just in time to catch another throw of his fist. This time, he expected your hold on him. He went for your legs, throwing you off balance and onto your back. He waited, not coming at you again, and it gave you time to grab your staff and knock him over the head with it, forcing him back a few steps so you could scramble to your feet again.

He hesitated. Is it because I’m a girl?

“You’re going soft on me, Mandalorian,” you panted, grabbing another staff out of a bystander’s hand and tossing it at him. He caught it easily. His beskar gleamed, his chest heaving as he realized he had a true challenger and not just an apprentice. “It’s insulting.”

Gods, he looks so good. Full of fire. This is where he feels the most himself, in a ring of few words and pure instinct.

He shook his head angrily before coming at you. He swiped at you with the staff, and you dodged. Left, right, left, and then you caught his arm, swinging under it and twisting it, forcing him onto his knees as you slid with ease until he dropped the staff. He caught the staff with his other hand, using it to knock you backwards, and you let out a growl as you fell to the floor. As he was about to bring the staff down on you again, you rolled out of the way, lifting your foot and kicking at the back of his thigh. His staff met the dirt ground as he lost his balance, and you started to crawl to get back to your feet.

You let out a surprised noise as you heard the swish of some release, a cord wrapping around your ankle and yanking you backwards. As you slid, you flipped onto your back as you watched the Mandalorian reeling you in. You grabbed the cord and yanked, but it did nothing as you neared him fast.

Geez, how many surprises does he have under all that armor?

You ducked under his waiting arm, keeping the momentum and yanking his body with you as you went under his legs. You twisted in your moment of advantage, swiping a leg under his head and forcing him up until both of your thighs could close around the unarmored thickness of his neck, squeezing tight. You tried hard to secure him, but with the cord still around your foot, he retracted it again, forcing your leg off his neck. You rolled off of him with a grunt, but the Mandalorian was too fast. He wrapped both arms around your neck, dragging you back and on top of him as he locked you in easily, threatening to choke you.

“Yield,” his modulated voice growled out. “Yield!”

You were never good at yielding. You abhorred losing, and you abhorred it even more in combat.

And there is some horrid, bubbly nagging inside of me that wants to impress him; and I won’t if I lose.

“Never,” you coughed, using the heel of your palm to knock him upside the helmet and then braced down your elbow against his unarmored side. He let go of you just enough for you to roll off of him, swiping the blade you saw poking out from his boot and sticking it against the side of his neck. If you were able to see his neck, you would have seen the slight cut you had nicked into his skin with the tip of the knife. You panted as you laid there beside him, your eyes lit with vigor and your insides hot with adrenaline, with excitement, with wonder. “Yield.”

The Mandalorian panted just as hard, relaxing against the ground as you both laid there and tried to take deep breaths. You both stared at each other, breathing in the warm air and the searing feeling coursing through your veins. There was nothing like a midday spar to get you right onto your toes, right into that sweet spot of amusement and delight; but you knew this feeling was not just the result of sparring with an opponent like a Mandalorian.

No, that can’t be it. He is not just a silent hunter, a curious visitor—I find his eyes on me often, and he finds mine on him.

You smiled a bit at his silence, and he nodded once. The crowd around you began to cheer, whooping and hollering as you slowly got up to sit. The Mandalorian was up before you, standing as he rolled out his shoulders. He offered you his hand, which you took gratefully. You stood slowly, twirling the familiar blade before handing it back to him. It was the same blade you had stolen from his ship when you first met. You smiled wide, sweat glistening across your chest as you moved your clothes back into place.

Does he know that I look for him when I find out he is here?

“You are a worthy opponent,” you said softly as he took the blade back from you. “You’ll have to teach me some of those moves, Mandalorian.”

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” He asked, and you tilted your head to the side, shrugging a bit. You liked the mystery between you. It made each new encounter with him exciting.

Does he know I wait for him when I find out he goes?

“All in due time,” you said, patting him on the chest gently. “I think you have some appointments that I’ve made you rudely late for,” you laughed as the advisor tried to move through the crowd of guards, calling for the Mandalorian to hurry back. “Until we meet again.” You touched his helmet this time, rubbing a thumb along the edge of it before going to grab a drink of water. Somehow, the touch felt even more intimate than the first time you touched him, with your fingers against his elbow, feeling his warmth. You had touched his beskar, caressed it even, and he found his helmet following your finger eagerly, even though he could not feel it. A few of the royal guards patted your shoulders as you walked by, bowing their heads in respect and complimenting your skill. You gave them polite smiles as you passed, shaking some of their hands before disappearing behind a corner.

The Mandalorian could not put a reason to why he felt so warm still, so intense. He didn’t know if it was your intelligence or your quick wit. Maybe it was the glow of your smile or the shine of your eyes or the unique beauty of your features. Perhaps it was the way you held a weapon, how your nimble fingers fought with ease and your body moved with a fluidity and grace in the sparring ring that had his mouth watering with admiration and curiosity and utter heat; the way you anticipated offensive moves and responded with bite when you were knocked down truly had his head on a swivel.

The Mandalorian was watching you, his eyes unable to leave until you had gone from his sight. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake the feeling in his chest. The feeling did not leave him.

It never would again.

act iii: a gambler’s debt

The hallways of the palace were quiet. Black drapes fluttered with the winter breeze, and candle’s wax dripped onto the floor, illuminating the walls in warm yellows and low lights. The solemn that had fallen over the court was not lost on the Mandalorian as he made his way from the landing bay into the yard. Royal guards stood wearing black uniforms, flags flying low as even the guards themselves couldn’t find words to instill conversation.

The guards paid the Mandalorian no mind as he made his way through the yard and the halls with ease. In fact, some of them even gave him cold stares and odd glances. They had been expecting him for a few days now; in their eyes, he was late, much too late. It was not a secret that the Mandalorian was welcome company for their princess, and many in the court had come to appreciate his visits. He had been present for many hardships at court, and he had handled conflict with the ease and control of a true Mandalorian; often times at the aid of the princess the guards adored so much.

But the Mandalorian had been gone a long time; everyone had noticed.

He found you sitting in the grass in the royal gardens. You were leaning over the edge of the trickling fountain there, staring into the flowing waters in silence. There were new adornments on you; jewelry that you surely hadn’t placed on yourself. He knew of your discomfort wearing such things. You complained often that royal jewels were heavy and impractical, and that they only suited special occasions, but you never wore them then either. The most eye-catching piece was the gold headband holding back your hair, the middle of it coming to a point at your forehead with the signet of your house pressed into the metal.

A crown. He had never seen you wear a crown.

Your eyes raised, and you saw him standing there between two large stone pillars of the palace. You lifted your head up, your eyes watering as soon as you saw him. All the feelings of resentment and betrayal and anger began to disappear just at the sight of him. You stood up from where you were sitting, moving towards him. His beskar was your magnet, and your feet were not pulling you fast enough to him. He could see by the way you were hurrying towards him that he needed to brace himself. He was glad he did; as soon as he was in reach, your arms flung around his neck, and you were hugging him tight, your face buried into the space between the helmet and his shoulder.

You were relieved to see him. The past few days had been nothing but solemnity and quiet and fear, and just seeing him calmed the feelings that had been overwhelming you. The Mandalorian made you feel so secure and so safe; he was not around as often as you would have liked, but he always seemed to appear when you needed him the most.

“Din,” you let out softly, your voice breaking. He had not heard his name since he had last visited, and he put one hand on the back of your head to keep you close, to keep his name a whisper against him. You planted a soft kiss on the fabric there, nuzzling your face into him as much as you could. “Din…I-I missed you…”

He smells so good. He smells familiar. He smells like home.

The Mandalorian let his other hand smooth down your back, holding you close to him by the waist. When he had heard of the Senator’s death, a successful assassination on your father and an unsuccessful attempt against you, he never even finished the job. He had tucked the fob he carried into the back of his belt and switched the coordinates on his ship without hesitating.

He had left you a princess. He had returned to a queen.

You lifted your head from his shoulder, your eyes wet and big and sad. You seemed heavier, your muscles tense and your shoulders tight as you felt a deep burden against them. The pressure and the weight felt a little lighter in his arms, but something still held onto your shoulders, something still was biting at your heels.

“What happened?” The Mandalorian asked. He had been itching to know. He had not listened to the transmission sent to him by your advisor long enough to investigate. Between the crackled admission of the Senator—killed and the princess—found—still alive, the Mandalorian had already started the jump back to the Core Worlds to get to you. He had burned through most of his fuel, and he nearly got arrested for flying too close to commercial ships, but he didn’t let anything slow him down. He knew he would not be able to rest until he saw your face. He needed to see for himself that the attempt was really all it had been—an attempt.

It had indeed been an attempt. You had a fading bruise against your jaw and a healing cut above your brow, but you were as beautiful as you had always been, and you were still breathing.

You shook your head, “we knew…we knew we were riling up the people at court,” you admitted. “We got a proposal for excavations along the southern hemisphere, and it was…” You swallowed hard, “it was so much money, Din. More than my father and I have ever seen in many generations. It would make us…we would be a royal force.” You closed your eyes, sighing deeply when the Mandalorian cupped your face with one gloved hand, encouraging you to continue with soft touches. “B-But I begged my father not to. The damage it would cause…the sickness it would spread…I begged him to say no. And…and he did.”

The Mandalorian didn’t need to hear more. Your father had refused a wealth that would make this court rich, hundreds of times richer than it stood now, and you never wavered. No amount of credits or wealth or reputation would make you give up your people, not for anything, and in that moment of true nobility and goodness, your father had seen in you what he had yet to see in any sovereign before him, even in himself. Bleeding the planet dry of its only resources for a lick of credits was not the way to earn respect, to appreciate the place you came from, to live and not just survive. The vultures that resided in your court did not have those burdens on their shoulders. They only had to think of themselves.

None of them carried the selflessness that was required of people like you. If you made the wrong decision, you might not even have a planet to reign over. It would be foolish to look the other way, to let it happen willingly. But no matter how noble the decision may have been, there were people that would lose much because of it. The itch of fame, of power, of money, it sickened people to their cores—it drove them to do unspeakable, inhumane things. Vengeance never truly brought the peace that one sought, but perhaps they could make others wallow in their same misery.

Perhaps they could make a Senator pay for listening to the cry of his daughter’s wishes.

It had come suddenly. Your father had asked you to his study, and you had only spoken a few words between each other when the room was broken into. There were five of them, but there was only one of you. You had fought honorably, but when you had seen your father with his head lulled to the side, the rage had blinded you. For all of your training and your skill, you had never fought with the breath of death against your neck. You were grateful that its presence didn’t slow you down or cloud your instinct—no, you let it fuel you, guide you, consume you until you could hold your father’s head in your lap and pray he would open his eyes.

What remained was only one of you.

“They failed,” you whispered shakily, your eyes running over the Mandalorian’s visor. There was an ire in your eyes, a look of pure indignation and determination that he had never seen before. Normally, you were alight with a sweetness and a playfulness and an innocence that followed you like a shadow. It was gone, all gone. You had not died, but they had killed something in you that the Mandalorian already missed desperately. “They may have killed my father—” You sucked in a deep breath, “but they did not kill me. They failed—” You put your hand over his on your face, soft tears coming down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, kissing the palm of his hand.

The Mandalorian let his hand fall a bit, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he sighed deeply. He leaned closer, the metal just brushing against your skin. If the Mandalorian had been a gambling man, he would bet that if he lifted his helmet just enough, you would let him kiss you. You would let him press his fingers under your chin and draw your face even closer, perhaps even let him lick into your mouth and drown you in the taste of him. If he was a gambling man, he would give and give and give, spend and spend and spend, until he was giving what he didn’t have and spending what he didn’t carry until he was consumed in you and only you.

The Mandalorian was not a gambling man. But he did have just a little to give.

“I will not let them come near you again,” he said lowly. It came out modulated and cracked, but the vocoder did not disguise the anger and the possessiveness in his voice. “They will fail every time.”

If it was any other day, you would argue with him. You were not a damsel in distress, and you never had been. You had held a weapon in your hands since you were strong enough to carry one. There was not a soul you trusted more than your own in combat. There was no need for a protector, for a guard of any kind, because they would never be as quick as you could be. But now, at this moment, this was what you needed to hear.

You needed to hear that there was another being in the galaxy that had your back. The Mandalorian was neither a diplomat nor an advisor. He did not have ulterior motives, he did not care of fame or fortune, he did not lie to you. He was a warrior of the highest esteem, led only by a Creed stressing honor and family and the hardships that shape the most avid fighters, and he was motivated to aid you by nothing more than the way he felt about you.

And stars, what I feel for her…

The unspoken air, the timid area of space that still existed between you and the Mandalorian—it was impossible to ignore yet impossible to acknowledge. The soft kisses you left on his person and the way his hands touched you had only been the first breaks in your distance. It was as if you and the Mandalorian had been dancing around your feelings before one day giving into the small desires that guided your hands. Often, you found yourself kissing his hands, the beskar of his pauldron and the side of his helmet. Other times, his hands would slide over the curve of your back, wrap around your waist, tug your relaxing figure right into his lap. Sometimes, you fell asleep with the Mandalorian at your back and his voice in your ear, just like the time when he was telling you his name for the first time as you sat under the stars.

“Thank you,” you said softly after a moment. You stood up on your toes, closing your eyes as you touched your forehead to his. There was a small clink as the gold of your headpiece touched the beskar, and the Mandalorian closed his eyes as he relished in the sweet kiss you offered him. He wondered, just for a moment, how wonderful you would look with a headpiece of similar fashion, not in gold—but perhaps in the steel that he wore all too well.

He was giving already. He was giving too much, spending all he had, and as he drank in the sight of you and the feeling of you, he realized he was losing when it came to you. At the thought of your life in danger, he had forgotten all sense and found himself not being able to think clearly until you were in his line of sight. All those years of training and discipline and restraint were obsolete when it came to you; you were the one in control, and he was deep in his own crumbling debt as he drew you in as close as possible, until your body was flush against his. His palms pressed against your back, memorizing the feeling of you drawing breath and the warmth of you and the way you molded into him despite the layers between you.

Alive, she’s so alive.

The Mandalorian had no way of repaying the debt he was finding himself in; but the reward was all too sweet.

act iv: the redeemer (18+)

You leaned forward, grunting as the handmaid behind you pulled tightly on the laces of your dress. You closed your eyes as she kept tightening, despite the pained look on your face, fastening the back of your garment until the waist of it was secure. You stood up straight again, letting out a deep breath and smoothing down the fabric at the front of the dress. It really was a beautiful piece. Your father had kept it in a safe place in his closet; the sentiment of it helped make the discomfort of wearing it worth it.

It had been your mother’s dress. It was a bright shade of red made of silky, heavy draped fabric that swept low to reveal just enough cleavage and then tightening around the waist before falling in a flattering, flowing skirt to the floor. The fabric was cut along one leg, enough so that the glittering silver of your shoes could show. They were elegant, with straps that wrapped around your leg, so long the ties disappeared under the high hem of your dress.

You looked at yourself in the mirror as the woman worked on your hair, lifting it up and off your face. You wore no jewels, and now she was painting along your eyes. Swirls of silver that curled over your face beautifully, accentuating the curve of your eyes and the color of them. She had brought your hair out of your face; but oddly, she left your hair bare of any decoration.

You stood when she finished, about to leave, but she assured you that you were not finished yet. She went towards a side table in your bedroom, picking up a small cloth that laid there that you hadn’t noticed until now. She came close again, putting the cloth down and untying it. In the middle of the fabric laid a beautiful brooch in the shape of an animal and a headpiece, both made of a spectacular silver metal that shined like a star, glittering as if it was moonlight. Your mouth gaped open a bit as you reached over and touched the pieces.

“Stars, I’ve…I’ve never seen these pieces before,” you breathed, picking up the brooch. “They’re…goodness, they’re so beautiful. Has this always been in our collection?”

“No, Your Majesty,” the handmaid blushed a bit. “T-These were a gift. F-From the Mandalorian.”

Your head snapped up to her, and you frowned a bit. Just the thought of him had your heart racing, and you found yourself flooded with a plethora of emotions at the sound of his title. Longing, need, desire, tenderness, comfort.

“W-What?” You asked. “W-What do you mean? He’s here?”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty. He asked if you could wear these tonight, h-he said it was very important,” she told you. She seemed nervous, her eyes deep in thought as if she was trying to remember exactly what he had told her. “B-But he didn’t want to see you until…you were ready. Oh—! And…he…he also wanted to give you…this—” She held out timidly a recognizable vibroblade, the same one you had used a few times against him. You took the blade from her, moving it over in your hand for a moment before swallowing hard.

You were an educated royal. You had studied many cultures and learned the customs of many people. Accepting this gift in particular was a statement for a Mandalorian. You did not hesitate as you hiked up your dress and fastened the blade into your leather holster.

You let out a little laugh, swallowing back light tears, standing beside her as she helped you put the finishing pieces on. She took a loose drape of fabric and curved it over your waist, pinning it with the brooch. It was strong, holding the heavy fabric easily with no indication of moving. You sat again for her to fit the headpiece on. You noticed the headpiece was a bit different than the one you normally wore. There were two points along the forehead, with two different signets—one of your house, and the other of the same shape of the animal that was pinned to your waist. You smoothed a finger over the two symbols before letting her fit it into your hair and secure it.

You looked in the mirror, letting out a shaky breath. The pieces were the perfect touches. You sparkled in them, and you couldn’t help but realize how much more you preferred yourself in silver rather than gold. The silver was so pretty, glistening, and you had no idea how you were going to thank the Mandalorian for making you feel so beautiful.

You had no idea what you were going to say to him at all.

The handmaid bid you goodnight and left the room, and you looked down at your hand at the new ring that sat there now that you were alone. Your father’s ring, a piece handed down through generations of others in your place, and now it was on your finger. You ran your thumb over it before standing, making your way out into the hallway.

The palace was decorated for the celebration. The colors of your house were shades of red, like your dress, and it was decorated to match. Red flowers hung along the walls, fluorescent plants littering along them to light up the hallways. There were red candles lit everywhere, and there was upbeat music playing, coming from the grand hall. You smiled at the guards you passed who bowed in response. Once you neared the hall, you were greeted by the array of guests invited. Creatures and beings of many races and species, all bowing and greeting you with delight as you made your way by them. You had invited many from the capitol city, extending invitations to city residents when you realized there was more room for many.

You took your time, shaking hands and greeting people warmly. You swelled with warmth when you interacted with others, especially your people. They were welcoming and kind and grateful, and when you had greeted everyone you could, you asked a guard to make sure everyone left with sizable gifts to bring home.

You made your way out of the hallway and into the grand hall, where the music was playing, and guests were eating and dancing. You smiled as you greeted more people, shaking more hands and lending your ear to a particular woman who asked you nervously for a favor. You held her hand in yours as she recounted a troubling story about the building she lived in within the capitol, and you put a hand on her shoulder as you assured her you would take care of it. You beckoned a guard your way, asking him personally to attend to it.

“I see you’re handling the new position well.”

You broke out into a smile at the voice. You turned around quickly, your eyes meeting a familiar face—well, helmet. The Mandalorian stood just aways from you, leaning against the wall to watch you. Your smile faded however, into a face of pure disbelief, as your eyes ran over him. It was like seeing him for the first time again; another Mandalorian entirely stood in front of you.

His armor. The Mandalorian did not stand before you in faded red beskar. No—he was glittering practically, adorned in the most beautiful set of silver beskar you had ever seen. His shoulders were broader, his posture stood taller, and his entire figure was more menacing and more intimidating than it had ever been. The sight in front of you had you speechless for a moment, and your lips parted a bit as you took him in again and again. Your eyes were so wide; if you thought he had been pretty before, you were mistaken. The warrior in front of you—kriff, he is so hot.

“Mandalorian,” you cooed softly, finally finding the words to speak. Your body moved before you could really think about it, coming near as quick as your legs would allow you, as if he had beckoned you to him. He was drawing you in without even saying a word. You wanted to touch him, feel him, tuck yourself under his arm and tell him just how pretty he looked. “I-I was looking for you, I—”

You stopped after your eyes fell to the pauldron on his right side and its new addition. There, imprinted in beskar, was the shape of an animal that you recognized easily. It was the same animal you wore at your hip and on your headpiece. You lifted your hand curiously, touching it gently. Beskar was so well-known, a sacred resource of the Mandalorian’s people. It would be impossible not to recognize it, and yet the thought had missed you entirely. You watched as the Mandalorian’s hand reached over and touched the pin at your waist, and you swallowed hard as you met his eyes through the visor.

On the stars…I’m wearing beskar.

“Din,” you whispered, just for him to hear. Your eyes watered a bit, your hand smoothing over the signet on his shoulder again. “What…I’m…I-I don’t understand.”

He tilted his head to the side, his hand skimming past the brooch and resting lightly on your hip. His eyes roamed over your face, the signet that rested on your forehead, the silver makeup that coiled along your eyes and made your skin sparkle. You were a vision in his eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel as if you were dressed and polished just for him.

It was a dangerous and possessive thought, but he let himself simmer in the feeling of it. His hand slid up a bit to rest at your waist, taking in the curve of you. The dress only accentuated all of the parts of you that he admired most, and he cursed under his breath as his gaze went over the swell of your breasts against the silky fabric of your dress.

You were a vision—a vision of elegance, of perfection, of undeniable beauty. The Mandalorian had never been privy to this kind of spectacle. He had never seen you in a dress like this, radiating the refinement and grace and splendor of a queen in her court, but the sight of you made you all the more desirable. He knew just how easily you could overpower him even in the confinement of your corset, and his mouth watered just a little at the thought of you twisting a blade in your soft hands. He thought about the blade he had gifted you and how it matched your dress quite nicely.

There was a strange word hanging off the tip of his tongue. It tasted good.

Mine.

He itched to keep touching you. He ached to lift his helmet and kiss over the soft skin you were showing. He wanted so badly to kneel at your feet, slip his hand under the hem of your dress, and hear your voice say his name as he touched the prettiest parts of you. He could see your leg peeking out of the slit in your dress, and he choked a bit noticing the silver of your heels, how the fabric curled up your leg and disappeared. You had to be teasing him.

She has to be.

“It’s a long story,” the Mandalorian said lowly, finally finding it in himself to speak. “But I have earned my signet. This…is the symbol of my clan.”

You swallowed hard. You had thought the blade a representation of a request of courtship. This was something entirely different.

“B-But I’m wearing it,” you murmured. “I-I…I’m wearing your…” You lifted your hand from his shoulder to the side of his helmet, caressing where his cheek might be. You let out a gentle sigh, shaking your head, “stars, you’re going to be the death of me, Din.” You wanted to say more, wanted to wound your arms around his neck and give him a tender kiss, but there was a gentle tug on the skirt of your dress that had your head turning away from him. There was a small child staring up at you, wearing red plainclothes with a nervous look on his face as he glanced between you and the Mandalorian. You smiled warmly, kneeling to the child’s level as you took his hand to listen to his soft request.

The Mandalorian helped you back to your feet with a firm hand when your conversation was over. You kept holding the lost child’s hand and smiled at the Mandalorian, giving his gloved hand a gentle squeeze.

“Duty calls,” you said softly, intertwining your fingers for a moment. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The Mandalorian simply nodded his head, taking his place near the wall, comfortable as he watched and waited. You guided the child to the table of food, helping him secure a plate for dinner before taking him to sit at an empty chair. The Mandalorian watched as you soothed the child, wiping his tears and helping him eat as you spoke gently to him. He could see the child relaxing visibly as you talked to him, nodding his little head and even mustering a laugh as you knelt in front of him and kept speaking. The Mandalorian could feel his chest building with warmth and admiration, the same kind that always rested in him by watching you; the way you treated other people despite your station and listened to their problems and addressed them with a sense of importance was a quality that he had not seen in many others. There was a reason you had earned these people’s love and respect. There was no issue too small and no creature less important than another, not to you. There was not a doubt in his mind if he had made the wrong decision. There was not another being in the galaxy that he desired more than you, in every way.

There was not a being more worthy of wearing his signet; there was not an individual more fitting to be a part of a Mandalorian clan.

It was later in the evening when you finally came back to him. He remained by the wall, leaning against it and letting his visor follow your figure shamelessly throughout the night. You adored the way he couldn’t look away from you, and anytime you found his eyes (or at least thought you did), you smiled his way. After a long night of dancing and celebrating and eating, you could feel your toes ache in your shoes and your eyes fluttering closed every so often. The party was far from over, but all you wanted was to be alone with the Mandalorian, to tell him how much you missed him, to ask him why on the stars he had sacrificed precious Mandalorian steel just for you.

His helmet never moved as you walked towards him. When you were within reach, his hand extended, curling around your waist and guiding you to him. You smiled, your palms resting against his chest as you looked up at him.

“Will you escort me to my room?” You asked softly. “These shoes are killing me…”

He nodded once, letting go of you reluctantly. You curled your arm through his, resting your head against his pauldron as he guided you out of the hall. You smiled and waved at any guests you passed, and you did not miss the way they stared at the pair of you in awe. You secretly liked the whispers that sounded.

When the bedroom doors shut behind you, you couldn’t keep your hands off of the Mandalorian. You took his hands in yours, walking backwards until your back hit the wall, and you slid your hands over his forearms and the inside of his elbows and over his shoulders before moving down his chest. You sucked in soft breaths as you leaned up on your toes and put your forehead to his, letting your lips brush against his helmet; you even managed to let out soft whines as his own hands moved along the curves of your waist and your lower back. The Mandalorian had never been anything but respectful, but the ghost of his fingers over the curve of your lower back was cheeky at best.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, kissing his helmet where your lips touched. “Din, it’s been so long…” You closed your eyes, “I was worried. And now you’re here…And gods, Din, you look incredible…” You hooked your fingers into the space under his cuirass and tugged him away from the wall, guiding him until he sat on the edge of your bed. You stood between his thighs, lowering until you were seated on one of them, the beskar of his tassets supporting you as you leaned against him in his lap. You shook your head, “Tell me what happened.”

So he did. With one arm around his shoulders and the other rubbing along the nape of his neck, he murmured in your ear about the long journey he had endured in his absence. He explained how he earned the signet on his pauldron, and he told you of the Child he had found and lost all over again. With your hand on his helmet, he told you, shamefully, how he had removed it and how he was a Mandalorian no more. You listened, never letting your attention falter, not once. Your eyes remained on his, your touch soothed him when his voice cracked, and he found comfort in the closeness of you.

“Oh, Din,” you whispered when he had quieted. “What a lucky child he is…that out of all the bounty hunters in the galaxy, you were the one to find him.” You smiled wide. “If he is as smart and as wise and as capable as you describe him to be—” You put both hands on either side of his helmet, keeping his head level with yours, “—he will come back to you. I should know.” You laughed a bit. “It is impossible to be away from you for too long, Din Djarin.”

A beat passed. And then he said your name.

“I came back,” he swallowed hard, “I came back for you.” You tilted your head to the side, encouraging him to continue. “He…he made me realize what was important to me. And now that he is gone…I-I had to come back for you.” You looked away sheepishly, but he put his fingers under your chin and forced you to look at him again. “There is nothing I have to offer you. I am not even a Mandalorian any longer. All I have is…myself. But I would be a fool not to make this proposal to you.” You hummed softly, smoothing a hand down his chest. “The gifts I’ve presented to you…I…”

Stars, he’s so nervous. I wish I could see his eyes.

“Din,” you stopped him gently. “If you are asking for my hand…” You laughed a bit, “you should know that it’s yours. It’s always been yours.” You squeezed his hand in yours once you found it, then you moved your hands to either side of his helmet and moved his visor to face you. You hoped your eyes were looking into his; the Mandalorian was almost afraid of how quickly you found them when you had no idea where his eyes really were. “If you’re asking me to be a part of your clan…to accept your gifts and wear your signet as well as my own…” You smiled nervously, “well, I…I accept.”

His helmet dropped, the front of it resting against your chest. You wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him there, soothing him quietly. He squeezed you tighter against him, until there was no space between you, none at all.

You stayed that way for a little while, just letting yourselves breathe each other in and find your ground again. You slid off his lap when you finally pulled away, sitting up against the headboard of your bed as the Mandalorian continued to sit on the edge, facing away from you. It was a strange sight to see him so apprehensive. He was a warrior of hardened discipline and seasoned experience in many things; he knew many different languages and never seemed out of place in any situation. But here, on your bed, you could tell this was not a place he had ever been before; he did not know how to sit, where to put his hands, or what to say next.

He's sweet.

“Din?” You called out gently, and he turned his helmet a bit to acknowledge you. “Could you help me?” You reached over and lifted the hem of your dress a bit, revealing the intricately tied heels you were wearing.

An invitation, a bold one. An invitation into your space. An invitation for him to touch you, in ways he had not before.

Not an invitation. Closer to begging.

He nodded, standing and moving to sit closer to you, facing you now. You lifted your leg for him, and you pursed your lips to keep a soft sound from escaping as he smoothed a gloved hand up the side of your leg, looking for where the knot of it was. There was static in your mind clouding your decent thoughts as he did this slowly. He stopped as he met the edge of the slit in your skirt, silently asking for permission. You nodded, and his hand disappeared under the hem, his palm warm against your upper thigh. His fingers found the knot, pulling at the ties gently until the coiled fabric became loose around your leg.

Oh, not sweet…no, not sweet—he’s making my head spin touching me like this.

He bent your leg at the knee, fitting his finger into the swirling fabric and pulling, watching the ribbons fall easily. He took a hold of your ankle, easing the heel off your foot and letting it fall to the ground. You started to breathe heavier as he did the same to your other leg, his touch wandering as he did so. Ghosting over the bone of your ankle, up along your calf, over your knee. His touch was sizzling, raising the hairs on your body as he traced the skin of your thigh. When he found the holster with the blade fastened, he only paused for a moment before removing it. When the other shoe and the holster dropped to the ground with a thud, you both stared at each other, unmoving as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

It was now or never; you decided now sufficed.

You leaned over and took his hand, pulling him enough that he was forced to either let go or climb over you. You hummed when he chose the latter, your eyes on his visor as he moved close enough over you to touch his forehead to yours. The clink of metal made your lips tremble; it was a soft touch of beskar against beskar, and it was such a pretty sound. You closed your eyes, gasping with relief when his gloved hand found the slit of your dress again and wandered under the hem, disappearing between your widening thighs. You were warm and wet already, a heat radiating off of you since the moment you laid your eyes on him and got a look at his iridescent armor, sturdy and new and solid just like the foundations of this new feeling.

Gods, I was so wrong. He’s good at everything; there is no skill that he lacks.

The Mandalorian had no trouble hooking his fingers into the edge of your undergarments and discarding of them. He wadded the silky fabric in his hand and tossed it aside, his other arm moving behind you to wrap around your waist and yank you towards him. You made a surprised yip at the harsh tug, whimpering at how he crowded your space with his broadness. The surprise died into a moan as two of his gloved fingers plunged deep into you without warning.

The Mandalorian never waited for anything. He was impatient, and he was always on the clock. Even now, even with no timer on when this night should end, he couldn’t wait. He had waited too long for this, and not hearing your sweet voice hissing in pleasure for even a second longer would not do. You were a coveted being he had lingered upon for far too long—he would not let his newfound fortune go to waste.

Your hands held onto his shoulders for support, moving up to wrap around his neck as you let out another moan of relief. Your head fell back a bit, your eyes fluttering closed as your thighs closed around his hand. He dropped the hand on your waist to wrap your leg around his middle, keeping you spread for him. His fingers, despite his glove still on, were making you tremble. The slickness of you allowed him the ease of a gentle pace, and he watched the expression of your face as he effortlessly relaxed your tightness as he stuffed you full.

“That’s it,” he muttered, feeling you relent to his touch, and you whined at the sound of his voice. The Mandalorian rarely spoke; the only words he ever said were purposeful and carefully chosen. This slip of a phrase was just a testament to how not in control he was, to how impatient and needy he was becoming for you. His fingers moved slowly, deep and heavy as they slid achingly well in and out. Even through his gloves, the Mandalorian could feel how tight you squeezed him, how your body begged for more of his touch. His thumb waved over a plump, wet bundle of nerves, and you jerked a bit in his arms, pressing your mouth to the front of his helmet and muffling a moan into the beskar. His fingers retracted, and you cried out with need, but you noticed him discard the glove to the side.

Oh, gods—it was like seeing him naked.

You saw his skin for the first time, but you weren’t able to focus on his fingers long enough before they were pushing past your plump bottom lip and sinking into your mouth. You moaned around them, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you sucked gently on them. It was only for a moment, because then his hand went under your dress again, and you were grinding pathetically against the palm of his hand, two fingers deep inside of you again. Like a machine he knew all too well, as if he was tuning up his blaster or tightening a bolt in his ship, the Mandalorian was learning you, memorizing you, claiming you between these four walls. The Mandalorian was well-versed in many things, and he prided himself on these qualities—he would not rest until he held the same semblance of knowledge on you and what places inside of you made you weak.

Mine. She’s mine, she’s all mine, and she will never forget it.

You were flushed now, sweating a bit as you felt the heat and need of pleasure taking over you. The silver makeup around your eyes was smearing a little, littering your face in silver sparkles that was making you glow. The Mandalorian watched with a heavy pant as he moved his fingers quicker, the rising tone of your moans driving him to get you to that brink of ecstasy that you craved so much; it was clear in the darkness of your eyes and the tight grip you had on him that you were not far away. His fingers curled, spreading and moving and letting the squeeze of your walls guide him into a rhythmic pace that had you breathless and staggered—oh—Din—yes, please—!

You came with a frenzied whimper against his shoulder, your legs shaking as you rode out the blissful feeling with a grind of your hips against his hand. You barely let yourself rest, barely let yourself seethe in that heavenly feeling. You wasted no time, not giving yourself even a moment to bask in that pretty afterglow before you were pushing the Mandalorian onto his back, hiking up your dress as you straddled him.

“Wait—” he put a hand around your neck, holding you at a safe distance, but you whined in frustration, sitting yourself down on him and coaxing a harsh groan from him as you circled your hips.

The Mandalorian had no clue how close you were to breaking, how far past your own limit you had strayed. The control, the restraint, the checks and balances you had trained yourself to obey were falling and falling and falling, at a speed you could not keep up with, and you were finished trying to catch up.

If you were falling, the Mandalorian would catch you.

“Din, I swear—” you gasped, “you have no idea what you do to me,” you cradled his helmet between your arms, keeping your hips going at a steady pace against him. He put both palms against you from behind, squeezing the flesh of you. He was hard, so hard, and you angled your pelvis until you felt him perfectly against you, sitting between your folds with nothing but his pants to separate you. You were desperate, the heat inside of you too blistering to ignore, and you needed him to understand that you could not wait any longer. You had thought about this since you had met him, you had thought about how much you wanted to be his and only his and be surrounded by the essence of him until it was all you could ever know.

I want him to fuck me until it’s all I will ever know.

You stopped, slowing your hips and sinking down against him. You moved one hand and grasped his, guiding it up to the laces of your dress. You spoke no words, but he understood; he practically invented this unspoken language, and there was no need to explain.

Especially not when I can see the fire in her eyes.

So he obliged. He sat up with you, foreheads pressed together as he undid the ties at your back. You put a hand to your chest as the dress loosened around you, holding it up so it wouldn’t fall. You used your other hand and put a thumb to the bottom of his helmet, forcing it to tip down as you let go of the front of your dress, the straps falling as it pooled at your waist.

Mine. Mine, mine, mine.

You unpinned the brooch at your waist carefully and set it down beside the bed before discarding the dress onto the floor. You were bare in the Mandalorian’s lap, wearing nothing but the beskar headpiece he gifted you and a sheen of sparkly silver sweat. It felt almost sacrilegious to be like this with him; his Creed did not allow you to see any more of him, in fact you had most likely already seen too much, and yet you felt like he was wearing nothing at all either.

“Din—” You smoothed a few fingers down the side of his helmet, smiling a bit. “Do you like what you see?” You received a curt nod in response, and then a tight, possessive squeeze of your bare waist. “You’re so quiet…” Your voice fell to a soft whisper. “It’s sweet. But I don’t want you to be sweet, Din.” You raised the helmet with a few fingers, kissing the metal soft. “Not tonight. Not with me.”

So he wasn’t sweet. He unbuckled the utility belt he wore, and with your help, lifted it off of him and put it to the side. You gave him a shy smile as you reached for the cowl tucked into his chest plate, dragging it out and dropping it beside your discarded dress. You pressed your forehead to his as you laid on your back, bringing him with you as you both stared at each other knowingly. He was heavy, still wearing his armor and not even stopping to take off his boots, but the weight of him was not unwelcome. The metal was cold against your hot skin, but if anything, it cooled the desire in you just a little, offering some sort of relief because you were starting to lose your sanity with how badly you needed this man.

I can’t think, I can barely breathe…I barely remember my name, the only one I can really remember is his—

You were on fire. Burning, burning, burning up with need as he dropped his head onto the pillow beside you and sank until his hips were pressed right into yours. Your legs tightened around his middle, ankles crossing at his back as you felt him so deep. You angled your hips up a bit, your head falling back as you let out a cry. But you asked him not to be sweet, so he gripped your face with his still-gloved hand and rutted up into you after just a few moments of adjustment. You squeezed him in response, your body’s own way of telling him yes, more, give me more.

So he gave you more. In the quiet of your room, with no more light than some flickering candles littered about and the low moonlight coming in from the windows, the Mandalorian groaned in your ear and fucked you into the soft sheets of your bed. You kept your eyes where you thought his might be, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with him; but this was a useless attempt. He was so hard, filling you up too well, and he was making you dazed with pleasure as you laid there, helpless and letting yourself succumb to just him, him, only him. His thumb wiped across your face, brushing your needy tears away as he smeared more of that pretty silver makeup along your skin. He rubbed it along your bottom lip, aching to get that silver color on every part of you, even just a little. You were so beautiful, wearing nothing but beskar, and some part of him wished that you could mold with him just like this, beskar and flesh and hot breath and nothing more.

The Mandalorian thought that perhaps he could survive on just that.

“Din—” Your voice brought him back to you. You were close, getting so close, and you whined in surprise as he sat up and pressed you into the headboard, driving into you at such an agonizing pace. You didn’t think he could take up any more of you, you didn’t think he could make you feel any more, but he was hitting deeper, grunting as he used the weight of himself to tower over you and fuck you hard. You held onto him with a tight grip around his neck, sitting back on his thighs as the only sounds leaving you were small moans and the sputtered echoes of his name—Din, stars—mmph!

There was nothing in the galaxy that could convince you that he was a Mandalorian no longer. He was fighter inside and out, a man who only sought to move forward and not dwell on his past; he had faced too many adversities and prevailed when every odd was against him too many times to ever be anything but a Mandalorian. He had too much honor and too much love to give. His word was sacred, his hands were deadly, and he was motivated by nothing but his clan—if he was not considered a Mandalorian, then there was no one worthy of the name.

You could not see his eyes, but every touch of him and every snap of his hips against yours was enough to tell you that he thought of you no differently. There was no man or woman better intended for your station, no person more worthy of wearing Mandalorian steel, no being more deserving of love and stardust. You were perfection in his arms, your voice the song that brought him back to earth, and the way your body was succumbing to him despite the layers between you only convinced him further that he would not find another like you again.

Mine, mine, mine, she’s all mine.

He pledged to make you see stars until you understood the vows of his new life. You were his new life, you were the new armor that would hold him together, and he would have you just like this, under him crying out only his name, until you felt it in your bones.

The Mandalorian let out a satisfied grunt as you pushed on his chest, forcing him to sit back on his heels. You sat up in his arms, looking down at him as you kept up his grueling pace, your hair falling out of place but your headpiece not moving an inch as you became sloppy, unhinged, moving your hips carelessly as you chased your high all over again. Your forehead smacked against his, the beskar hitting each other sounding like a bell around the room as you wept out his name again and again and again.

He was stretching you, hitting the most precious places inside of you, fucking you as if it was a challenge. You yielded, helplessly, letting out the softest whimpers as you went limp in his arms, letting the strength of them hold you up and keep the rhythm. This was how it always would be, you were convinced; if you faltered, he would continue without a beat passing, and you would do the same. The Mandalorian wanted to yank your head back, put your eyes to the stars, and say Mandalorian vows to you right then.

We are one when together.

You cried out loudly, squeezing the skin of his neck as your eyes fell back in your head.

“Din—” You tugged helplessly on him, trying to get him as close as possible. “Din, I-I can’t…”

He reached a hand up, cupping your sweet face in his palm and guiding your eyes to his. Though you couldn’t see them, you could feel that you had his gaze.

“I have you,” he murmured, a low groan finally leaving him. You put your hands against the helmet, nodding wordlessly. “I-I have you.”

We are one when parted.

You pressed your face into his neck, his helmet tilted back to give you space to rest there. You tugged down the collar of his flight suit just enough to kiss him there, your teeth biting down gently as you finally saw stars, millions of them blinding your vision as you let him take you far away. You moaned powerlessly in his arms, your hips chasing his as you rode out some blissful high that left you wordless, hazy, dumbstruck with the taste, the smell, the feel of him. All five senses were Din, Din, Din, and you breathed it in until you could breathe no more.

We will share all. We will raise warriors.

You hissed with delight when you felt his hands squeeze you possessively, his hips faltering as he relaxed. You rested your face against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you settled there in his arms. There was no space between you; there was no force that could break you apart, not right now, perhaps not ever. You adjusted yourself just slightly, and you both moaned, feeling your thighs soak with each other, dripping along your skin and onto his pants, making a mess. You smiled at that, growing flustered as you pulled your head up and stared into his eyes sheepishly. He pushed your hair back away from your face, adoring the sight of you. You were not a royal made of glass; you were a woman made of steel, and he imagined it might be Mandalorian steel—impenetrable, protective, beautiful.

Mine. Mine, mine, mine…she’s mine, and that’s why she’s so pretty, that’s why I can’t get enough of her, that’s why nothing makes sense unless I see her, unless I can feel her, unless I am all around her.

You picked up the discarded clothes around the room, albeit on wobbly legs. You hung the dress up carefully, slipping into another a light silk dress to sleep in as you gathered the rest of the Mandalorian’s things off the floor and set them down on a table nearby. The room was warm, and the starlight was bright, and the sight of the Mandalorian shuffling around your space put you at ease. He belonged here. Not long ago, he seemed unsure of himself in your room; now he took up the places he stood in as if he always had been there.

The Mandalorian saw a reflection of himself in you. He had seen it from the moment you had boarded his ship the very first morning he had met you. The nimble way you held a weapon, the ease and comfort and grace you had when fighting another—he even saw it in the way you put yourself back together when one of your own tried to steal the goodness and kindness of your heart by killing it out of you. Like him, you were molded by grief and difficulty and honor; if he closed his eyes, he might have thought you were Mandalorian yourself. It was the kind of thought that prompted him to commission beskar pieces on your behalf; it was not a sacrifice of Mandalorian steel, it was an offering.

It was only now that the Mandalorian thought of redemption. As he came close to you and put a hand on your face, his fingers tight under your chin to look at you, he began to believe in redemption, in salvation, in the revitalization of who he was at his core. Because in your eyes, he could see the image of himself, the silver of his beskar and the darkness of his visor and all the parts of him that you loved so deeply, all the parts of him that you had no reluctance saying yes to.

“There…there is a way for me to be redeemed,” the Mandalorian murmured, smoothing his fingers up your jaw. Your eyes sparkled, and you put your hand over his, squeezing him gently. “If I bathe in the Living Waters, then I will be Mandalorian again. But…I have a few things to do before I can try.”

Your eyes shined, a smile coming over your face as you stood on your toes, level with his eyes. The Mandalorian saw something new in your gaze. Wonder, excitement, the rush of adventure all blurring into one. You moved both hands forward, touching both sides of his helmet, kissing the metal softly as you silently gave him your permission, your acceptance, your encouragement of starting something over. You had waited a long time for the Mandalorian to come back to you; you had waited even longer for him to ask you to come with him.

There it was, he saw it so clearly—stardust in your eyes and joy on your mouth and silver against your skin. You were a sight all too beautiful. He thought about kneeling, about dropping his head and telling a queen that there was no place in the galaxy, in the cosmos, amongst the stars that he would not go to for you. If the Mandalorian knew how inflated you were with the same feeling, he might’ve lost his balance.

“Well…”

Your eyes were still there, still full of starlight.

Mine. Mine, mine, mine.

“…then what are we waiting for?”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #pedro pascal #the mandalorian imagine

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short-honey-badger · 5 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 2

I just could not stop thinking about this. Have some more. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Warnings!: Still none! Inexperienced reader! I guess?

Dracule huffed, nose scrunching at the taste of the shoddy peppermint tea that he'd chosen for the cabin boy to fetch him. Across the table, Sengoku raised a brow at the pirate.

“What? Not to your liking, Hawkeye?” He mocked lowly and is swiftly delivered a scathing glare from the yellow-eyed man.

Mihawk sniffs and sets the tea away, done with it, “Not my taste at all, Fleet Admiral,” he drawled. No. The only peppermint tea he wanted was yours, and it had been far too long since Dracule had laid eyes on you. Several weeks too long, in fact.

Sengoku scoffs and sits back in his chair. The warlord meeting had gone about as well as he had thought, with only Mihawk and Doflamingo showing. The pink idiot had shown his ass for half an hour before bugging out, stating he had more important matters to attend to.

“Whatever. Get the hell out of here, Mihawk,” The Fleet Admiral grouched, and the warlord happily rose and left without a word. Hawkeye went straight to his ship and hoisted the sail before turning east. It would take several days for him to reach your island.

To say that Mihawk is in a shit mond when he finally arrives at your island would be an understatement. The seas had not been kind to him, and it had left him soaked to the bone and desperate for a hot cup of tea.

The warlord doesn't waste any time, tossing his anchor and flashing to the shore. A permanent scowl is etched across his face as he stomps through the underbrush until he arrives at your quaint cottage. He shakes himself off any water once he stands under your stoop and then raises his hand to knock.

Dracule listens, sharp ears picking up the sound of Hank's nails on the hardwood and then the soft steps of your feet. The door is yanked open, and the furious scowl on your face disappears the moment you lay eyes on the soaked bird in front of you.

“Mihawk? Shit, come in here. You're soaked!” You grab his jacket without thinking and tug the warlord inside quickly. You flutter away and come back with a couple of fluffy towels that you hand over to him, “Gimme your hat and jacket. I'll hang it by the fireplace.”

Dracule huffed and found himself doing as you ordered. He strips off his hat and shrugs out of his coat to hand it over. His lips curl when he sees your eyes flick over his body and your face pink up. You turn and leave before he can decide to do something about it. He huffs and then takes advantage of the towels that you gave him.

You come back to see him stoking the embers of the fireplace, towel hanging around his shoulders, “Thank you, Darling,” he murmurs and hands you the one that he'd used to dry his hair.

You clear your throat, “Ah. You're welcome. Is everything okay?” You ask and take the towel back to the bathroom before you begin to clear away the seating, tucking away the gardening books you have spread out. You had not expected to see Mihawk so soon, not that you were complaining.

Hawkeye dips his head in a nod, “Fine. The weather was not kind during my trip here.” Dracule assures you and sits when you've cleared up a spot. He examines the books you've got scattered around, sharp brow ticking up in interest, “Botany?”

You nod, smile crossing your face as you nod, “Yep. I know enough, but there isn't anything wrong with wanting to know more. I had to teach myself a lot of this,” You gesture around your cluttered home and shrug. You weren't embarrassed about your life

“Admirable,” Mihawk rumbles. He grimaces when his boots squelch and raises a brow when you snicker at his scrunched face.

“I'm sure I've got some socks that will fit you. Let me go get some and then I'll make us some tea?” You offer, and Mihawk gives you what might call a pitiful look if the elegant mad made those. You snicker again and then walk off, “Make yourself at home.”

Dracule huffs at your retreating back and then reaches down to tug off his boots and then his socks. He feels exposed like this, but not unsafe or in any kind of danger. it's not a common feeling unless he was home, secluded away inside his room in his empty castle. He kicks back in his chair, warming his chilled toes by the fire.

You come back to your living room to see your guest lean back in his chair with his eyes closed. You take in his relaxed form, tiny smile playing on your lips as you watch him. He looks peaceful like this, the monstrous scowl gone from earlier. You jump when he speaks up.

“I can feel you staring, Darling,” he rumbles and cracks a yellow eye open to peer at the young woman he came all this way to see. He wonders if she understands how important such a notion was.

“Sorry! you just looked comfortable,” you tell him and then step into the kitchen to start the kettle. You slap your cheeks while hidden away from him, cursing yourself for being so rude to your guest.

Dracule rolls his eyes and stands to follow you to the kitchen. He comes to a stop behind you, reaching out one hand to place it on your hip. He feels you tense, and then the room drops in temperature as your devil fruit comes to life in response to the sudden touch. He ignores the cold and takes a half step closer, and you shiver at the heat radiating from his front.

“Don't be scared, Darling. You're safe with me,” Mihawk says quietly and then reaches past you with his free arm to gather the two mugs that the two of you used last time. He set them on the counter and then stepped back like he hadn't just rocked your entire foundation.

You swallow and turn around quickly, heart in your throat as you stare up at Darcule. He watches you, eyes intent, waiting for your next words.

“Which tea do you want?” You croak, and the tension in the air shatters when Mihawk snorts a laugh and runs a hand through his hair, fixing the black strands back in place.

“I'll take the peppermint, dear,” Dracule decides and watches the way you nod and quickly turns back to the counter. He leans in the doorframe, and by the time the kettle begins to whistle, the chill of the room has faded, and you face him with a relaxed grin on your face.

“One for you, one for me,” You intone and the two of you settle back by the fireplace in the living room. He takes his seat and you surprise him by settling on the floor by the open fire. You hand him his tea, and Mihawk sips from the chipped mug.

“Cold?” Dracule questions, and you nod, lips twisting in a weary smile. He finds that he does not like the distant look in your eye, as if recalling bad memories.

“Mhm, yeah. I ate the Yuki Yuki fruit when I was really young. You've seen it already. I'm always cold, so being warm is nice,” you admit casually, but Mihawk can still hear the strain on your voice. He frowns, curious for more, but unwilling to press for more if you did not want to speak on it.

“It is a formidable power,” Dracule murmurs and stands to set another log into the fire. His concern and curiosity for you grows, and he does not fight it. So, he settles back in his chair and parts his legs, “Come here, Darling.”

“What?” You demand, eyes wide and mouth growing dry. You can't have heard how correctly.

Hawkeye sighs, yellow eyes narrowing in on your befuddled form. The warlord knows that you aren't this dense. You're a smart girl, “Don't make me repeat myself, Darling,” he quips and pats his lap, “Come here. I'll warm you up.”

You find yourself standing on wobbly legs. In three short steps you stand between his legs, and Dracule finishes the job by grasping your hips and leading you firmly to sit in his lap. He sits you sideways, legs hanging over the side of his and pressing you into his chest. It's intimate, daring, and Mihawk has to look up to hide his smile when he feels you begin to relax against him.

You grin to yourself, warm and comfortable tucked up against your friend's? chest. You don't really know what's going on, but you like it. You like the squirmy feeling that blooms in your chest when this man who invited himself into your life looks at you.

“See?” Dracule speaks up, and you can feel the way his chest flexes below you when he curls one of his arms around you, “I told you I ran hot, Darling.”

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #op mihawk #opla mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #fluff #the tension #reader is a devil fruit user #reader is inexperienced

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tinybabiebear · 10 months

Text

cheap stores to find agere objects!

in person

dollar stores

often in dollar stores you can find a specific baby section with low-priced baby objects! though sometimes there are objects that only specifically babies can use, there are some agere friendly objects as well!! some of the things you can usually find here are:

- teethers

- sippy cups

- baby powders / lotions

- bath toys

- baby toys / blocks / rings

- stuffed animals

- hair bows / accessories

- rattles

- off-brand bigger kid toys

- colouring books + crayons

2. walmart , target, etc

though this can be less cheap than places such as dollar stores, there’s often either more options or more on-brand objects here. here you can find toys and themed objects for kids from popular tv shows, or branded stuffed animals. there’s a variety of options for many different agere age ranges! some of the things you can usually find here are:

- baby bottles ( be careful of the teet )

- sippy cups / themed sippy cups

- kid cups

- teddy bears / stuffed animals ( of shows and other popular brands )

- dolls / barbies / trucks / etc

- bigger kid toys & popular brand toys

- baby lotion / powder / oil

- baby food ( either the squeeze type / liquid or puffs! )

- teethers / ice teethers

- pacifiers ( i wouldn’t recommend, they will hurt your teeth ! )

- security blankets

- kids plates

- baby / kids books

online

etsy

etsy can be tricky! a lot of the time there are shops that aren’t sfw, which isn’t always comfortable or available for minors under the age of 18! if you’re uncomfortable with that, make sure to add ‘ sfw ‘ and ‘ agere ‘ to your searches, aswell as checking description boxes of either the listing or the shop in specific. also watch the shipping on certain listings as they can be very expensive ! some of the things i often find myself searching for and you can find here are:

- adult bottles with adult nipples ( this means that you can use them without hurting your teeth as much! ) / these can also be themed towards shows and characters aswell as have themes in general!

- adult pacifiers ( these can also hurt your teeth much less and are safer to use! )

- baby hat / mitt / boots in adult size

- adult onesies

- baby sensory cubes

- sensory objects ( chewies, sensory books, fidget toys, etc! )

- adult diapers / training pants ( make sure to be extra careful with brands if you’re uncomfortable with not sfw shops!! also, make sure to be very careful with sizes as sometimes these can be sized weird. )

- adult length pacifier clips

- adult sized bibs

- bloomers

- rattles & stuffed animals

2. amazon

amazon is a limited place for specific agere products but it has a wide variety for baby products in general! not only this, but their shipping is often very discreet and also fast + inexpensive! keep in mind shops that aren’t sfw again if you’re uncomfy with that! some shops that are popularly available on amazon are: LFB, rearz, landofgenie, etc. some products you can find here are:

- adult onesies

- adult pacifiers

- adult bottles

- adult bibs

- sippy cups + cutlery, plates, cups, etc

- stuffed animals, rattles + sensory

- adult diaps / cloth diaps

- teethers / ice teethers

- baby powder/lotion

- bibs

- adult pacifier clips

- fidget toys / toys / dolls, fandom/theme plushies + toys

- footed jammies

- changing pads

- overalls

- colouring books

- play tents

- mobiles + crib accessories

- DS + DS games

- leapfrog toys

- accessories ( ex: boys, headbands, clips, necklaces, etc )

- bubble bath / bath toys

- night lights

- long socks / paw socks

3. aliexpress

make sure to be careful here!! you can find most things that you’d be able to on amazon here, but make sure whatever you buy has reviews!! if not, it’s easy to get scammed. not only this, but it takes a long time to ship!

4. shein

shein is probably the most limited out of these options! you can find more discreet things here rather than more open things! some things you can find here + what to search for to find them are:

- onesies! i often use the words ‘ bodysuit / t-shirt bodysuit ‘

- cute water bottles!! sometimes you can find sippy cups here but they take a bit of searching for! ‘ cute water bottle / kids water bottle / sippy cup ‘ usually work!

- thigh / knee high socks!

- overalls

- nightlights

- fidget toys / stuffed animals

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marlynnofmany · 2 months

Text

Things to Do on Ice

I adjusted the heat shawl against my neck, tugging my collar over it to keep out the chill breeze. Heatseekers sure knew what they were doing when it came to warming devices. A regular scarf had nothing on this. It was almost enough to let me forget the snowy temperatures on this alien planet.

Not that I could fully forget, with the snow drifting down into the streets anywhere there wasn't a storefront with a heat-field umbrella. The city-goers were from a range of species, and anyone who didn't have heavy fur was bundled up against the cold in some way.

Even Zhee, who objected to coats on the grounds that they covered up his glorious purple exoskeleton, was sporting a range of scarves and bracelets that radiated heat. It seemed like an inefficient way to keep warm to me, but that was his business.

Speaking of business, there were hours left before our ship was due to leave, and everyone was taking the chance to see the sights. Zhee and I had volunteered to scout out the tourism hub. Several others would be joining us shortly.

“Is that the sports arena?” I asked when a wide building loomed ahead.

“Yes.” Zhee pointed out a sign with his pincher arm. I'd missed it because of all the burly, yeti-like locals milling around in front of it. “One building, many sports, all open to anyone.”

I was more than a little curious to see what sort of sports were played here. “Let's take a look! Paint and Eggskin will probably come here first anyway; it's bound to be warmer in there.”

“A valid point,” Zhee agreed, stepping quickly. His clicky bug feet had the most adorable little booties on, for all the world like something a toddler would wear to keep from slipping on the kitchen floor. The sparkly thread woven through the rim probably meant they were high fashion where Mesmers were concerned. I hoped they were waterproof.

I tromped through the slush in my normal human boots, and soon enough we entered the arena doorway to a much more comfortable temperature. I found the control tab for the heat shawl and turned it off, though I left it draped under my shirt.

Zhee deactivated several bracelets. “A respectable range of sports,” he observed.

I scanned the signs. “I don’t recognize the names of any of these.”

“The viewing areas are this way,” Zhee said, padding off down the main hallway. “Perhaps you will recognize one if you see it in action.”

Surprisingly enough, I did.

“Is that hockey?” I asked a moment later, staring through the big window at the ice rink where two mixed teams of local yetis and offworld Smashers careened around in chase of something small. The full-body thumps vibrated through the floor.

“They’re calling it ‘puck chase,’ Zhee said, reading a sign.

“That’s amazing. We have this exact sport where I’m from.” I looked for differences. The puck looked bigger and heavier, and the sticks were a different shape. Judging by the amount of violence going on, the rules were probably different too. But it was very much the same on the surface, with goalies in front of nets and everything. “I suppose it’s an obvious sort of game to think up when there’s a lot of ice around, but still. I know a few people who would have loved to see this.”

Zhee sniffed. “It’s a bit pedestrian.”

“I suppose,” I said with a smile. “Not your style?”

“I’ve never been one for the more feminine sports,” Zhee said with a flick of his antennae.

“Feminine?” I asked.

He pointed with a pincher arm, keeping it carefully folded. “All this ‘protect the nest; steal the enemy’s egg’ nonsense.”

I blinked. “I guess that’s one way to think of it.”

“Judging by that sign though, there promises to be something more masculine down this way,” Zhee said. He headed off down the hallway.

I hurried to follow. The sign in question had another name I didn’t recognize, though I could guess. I dodged around a trio of yetis — which smelled like cinnamon and herbal tea, with none of the wet-dog scent I’d been subconsciously expecting. I reminded myself not to make unflattering assumptions, and caught up with Zhee just as he turned the corner.

“There we are!” he said in satisfaction. “Now that’s a sport. Even Trrili would have to appreciate this one.”

Figure skating. Aliens of a variety of body types and clothing styles glided around on the ice, leaping and spinning and generally being as flashy as they could. Somebody with wings was even doing a high-speed series of flips that were almost certainly a mating dance. Every skater moved past the others with elegance and grace, a far cry from the violence in the other room.

“I’ll be here for a while,” said Zhee’s voice, already farther away.

I turned to see him gliding toward the entrance to the arena, reactivating his heat bracelets and pulling a currency card from a belt pouch. A vending machine just inside the door looked like it sold force-field ice skates to fit any foot.

“All right, I’ll keep an eye out for the others,” I called after him, though I doubt he was listening. He disappeared through the door in a gust of cold air.

I looked around at the passersby, some of whom were watching the action with recording devices. I quietly got out my phone. I had a suspicion that seeing a praying-mantis-shaped alien strut his stuff in the manly art of ice dancing was about to be very memorable.

I was right.

~~~

Shamelessly inspired by this post.

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #humans are weird #and so are the aliens #hfy #haso #eiad #humans are space orcs #science fiction #writeblr #writblr #culture clash #sports #gender #in spaaace

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the-fiction-witch · 2 months

Text

You... You can't just Kidnap a Girl FAGIN! P1

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader (Lady)

Rating Cute

Requested:

Hey, I absolutely love your writing and I have an idea so basically y/n is the governor's daughter and belle's sister and she knows of jack and he's kinda admired her for a while and fagin knows it, but jack is in debt still so fagin kidnaps her or something to get jack the money and yeah that's it and maybe some ~smut~ . anyways I absolutely adore this fic so far and you don't have to do it but I just thought it was a cool idea

I finished up with the rounds cleaning off my hands as I headed through the ward, my bottom lip between my teeth as Fagin followed me around while I was trying to work. He was panicking and frankly so was I, we had three days to get the rest of Darius' money... and currently we had about four pounds of the twenty-six required.

"I told you no." I snapped down his stupid idea,

"I don't know why you keep ignoring me dodge I have the best ideas..."

"You have terrible ideas, Fagin," I warn,

"Why don't we... sell fake prescriptions?"

"No. I am not letting you get me in trouble."

"Why not... sell the damn mangy hospital cat." He said, "Five bob for the meat two for the skin, and we'll be on our way."

"Hosptial-" I began as I looked around spotting the little black cat on the floor nibbling at some removed fingers, the usual black fur, blue eyes and purple collar, "That is not a mangy street cat." I told him as I carefully went over and picked the cat up she very happily nuzzled into my arms for a cuddle starting to purr, "This is Lady Nightingale, Lady Y/n Fox's cat. This cat outranks the both of us." I warned him as I took the cat to the front office to keep it out of trouble,

"she won't miss it-"

"Fagin." I stopped him, "I cannot. Cannot. be more clear about this. You touch that cat. it is both of our arses. That is the governor's daughter's cat and if so much as a hair on its perfectly brushed head is hurt I will ship you back to London myself," I told him,

"...When did you ever gain such an affection for cats?"

"I don't have an affection for cats. However, this one is a prized possession of someone very powerful and influential so it is in the best interests of our remaining alive if we do not hurt the cat." I told him as I gave the cat a pet and a check over as she tended to get into mischief on her way here,

"Powerful and influential... with... money?" he encouraged,

"Fagin..."

"If we happen to let the governor know his sweet girl's cat has gone... missing then surely a reward could be in order."

"Fagin. We are on no condition kidnapping the governor's daughter's cat and holding it for ransom,"

"But think of the green dodge?"

"No. It is not happening. Not at all. No way. Absolutely not. I want you to swear to me."

"...Fine... I Swear I will not Kidnap the cat and hold it for ransom."

"Or hurt the cat."

"...Or hurt the cat."

"Alright then," I nodded just as I saw the door open, to a familiar sight.

Lady Y/n Fox wandered in, wearing her sweet little black leather boots, stockings, her beautiful lilac purple dress with a lobster tail bustle below it, and her sweet hair pinned up with her little dragonfly hairpin. She rushed in with a look of fear across her face as she often did but she relaxed a little when she saw me and Lady Nightingale,

"Afternoon Y/n," I smiled, doing my best not to blush as I continued to pet her cat,

"Good Afternoon Jack," she smiled, "I'm so sorry..." she said as she came to pet Lady Nightingale,

"It's alright I know she likes to come and keep us company,"

"Umm she likes to come to find you," she laughs, "Every time I open the window nowadays she bolts out to come to find you,"

"Yeah I guess so, but still I'm happy she'd be here with me so you know where she is."

"I suppose so, and I get to come down and see you,"

"Yeah, I do get to see you, both of you." I smiled, "Well it was lovely to see you, Lady Nightingale, of course you are welcome to surgery as always as our best hospital patron, but now it is time to end the honour of your visit and head home with Lady Y/n," I laughed,

"Yes and It was delightful for a visit with you two doctor Dawkins, I know Lady Nightingale enjoyed it. and I'm sure she'll be back." She laughed as she picked the cat up in her arms, "Thank you for taking care of her Jack,"

"It's no problem really,"

"Thank you, I'm sure I'll see you around Doctor Dawkins," she smiled,

"I look forward to it Milady," I smiled giving her hand a kiss before she headed out with cat in hand,

"Interesting... how you're on first name terms with the goveners daughter." Fagin smirked, "A lady no less..."

"Fagin. Do not. Hurt. Cat."

"I swear on Milife Dodge I won't hurt that cat."

"Alright then..." I nodded, "I need to get back to work," I sighed heading back to the ward,

#tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs smut #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #doctor jack dawkins #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #the artful dodger #theartfuldodgerjack #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger

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singeart · 1 month

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Okayy we got a Voyager science officer cosplay to make, here(wa)s the plan:

Using an existing pattern I found on etsy, I made adjustments based on vibes reference pictures of Janeway from Night and seeing what other people have made before (shout out to thresholdbb I was Looking at their past cosplays).

Treksona presentation to illustrate the changes I made~

Half the battle was decoding what the vintage pattern instructions were trying to tell me 🤡 but eventually with the help of the internet and my mom on call I figured out each step!

Oh and I had to learn how to iron and how the whole dang sewing machine worked, oiling it, threading the bobbin and needle, I even took apart the foot pedal at one point because I thought it wasn't working lol.

The mockups below, I made one out of Swedish tracing paper and the next one out of cotton (curtains I thrifted) after confirming that it would probably fit:

Turned out pretty good but I decided to move the front seams over just a bit...

Laying out the final pattern:

Cutting out the final pieces was really exciting it was starting to look like something!!

Detail shots below... I didn't feel like I could get the crispness I wanted for the shoulder points with the machine so I did it by hand :')

The shoulder pads were very exciting to put in as well!! I asked the person at JoAnn what the difference was between the two different shoulder pads I had picked up and they said one was more 80s power suit-- that was definitely the one I wanted for this jacket hehe

The final jacket below with a top I found on ebay (also found boots from there)!!! I ended up putting the sleeves in with a machine and ummm there's some puckering I'm trying not to be annoyed about h a h a. I may go back and fix that eventually I don't know... The invisible zipper I got didn't work either so I need to replace that somehow too hrm.

Anyway, I thrifted pants because I didn't want to tackle a whole other piece; I just added fabric to the bottom because they were a smidge short and then cut the iconic vent.

Here's the jacket on me, taken with a weird camera angle so the shoulders are a bit wonky at the edges haha but look!! I lined everything up so well!!

(comm badge and pips from etsy)

I felt ready to go hop on a ship sign me up for first contact I'm ready 🫡

Awright Lessons I Learned:

sewing projects take much much longer than anticipated (I went to stsf and was sewing licherally the night before and morning of. I know it's the convention experience but I was a tad stressed lol)

hand sewing in particular takes forever but I enjoyed it!

people are right to complain about setting in sleeves what da hell was that

flannel (what I used for the black part because it matched the pants the best) was great to work with

linen (the best teal they had in the store) was not!! doesn't iron well, doesn't sew well I don't want to use it ever again <3

this was my first sewing project Ever and I still was pretty hard on myself e h e..........much to think about...

Final words of wisdom from my mom:

Back to the Scully blouse soon!! After a little break :) Thanks for reading!

#star trek cosplay #voy #voy cosplay #voyager cosplay #singesewing #treksona #it was my first convention ever too I had a lot of fun!!#kinda wish i entered the cosplay contest just to get more feedback on my costume loll ah well #yeah i clearly didnt make the scully blouse for halloween haha i wore something else to be her #dont underestimate my ability to put off learning new things </3

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normansnt · 10 months

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A book by its cover (Usopp x male!punk!reader)

This picture inspired me BIG time. Also I love that people are finally realizing how nice punks are🦦🧡 It may be a bit long but like not that long its aight I hope you like it

There are no warnings its just fluff��

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Black leather jacket with spikes, badges and whatnot. Spiky h/c hair piercings and tattoos all this with black ripped jeans with again different badges and other things on it and black combat boots. Usopp thought this looked quite scary. He looked quite scary. Well ok it looked badass not to mention the guy was handsome... but anyhow he looked like he was from a dark world which Usopp had no intention of entering

The strawhats docked on an island for supplies maybe a little rest and to reset the log pose they had about 1 maybe 1 and a half days. Robin, Nami and Sanji went shopping the girls for clothes Sanji to carry their bags and to buy food. Zoro went to drink beer and take a nap and Luffy went with him claiming he wants to eat (as always). Brook and Jinbe just wanted to look around town. That left Franky, Usopp and Chopper who wanted to go look for supplies for the ship or Usopps bombs and other things.

Thats where they saw him. The guy who sold every kind of parts for ships, to painting supplies, gases and more. He was a tall dude around 6'6 with h/l, h/c hair which was in spikes (or not you decide if it wasn't just ignore it), he had kind e/c eyes and greeted them with a friendly smile. Franky smiled back and got to business right away.

"Hey guys what can I help you with?" Asked the guy in a friendly tone. "We need some supplies for a ship" said Franky cautiously not to mention that they are pirates. "Oh you guys are the Pirates that just docked, ok what kind of parts do you need?" Said the s/c male. Franky, Usopp and Chopper stood there a bit baffled. Even after the guy knew they were pirates the kind smile didn't leave the strangers face.

While Franky was discussing the parts needed Usopp was quiet the whole time something was off with this guy, he looked scary (and handsome but Usopp did not admit that even to himself) but acted very kind and understanding. Not to mention based on what he heard from the conversation he knew what he was talking about. "HAHAHA" Frankies booming laugh got him out of his trance. The guy must have said something awfully funny since he was smiling as well a big smile, a very attractive smile. What? Usopp was very confused at this point. "I could really use someone like you on the ship to help with repairs wouldn't you say Usopp, Chopper?" Asked Franky smiling, the two were just standing there silently. "Sorry how rude of me" said the guy still smiling "I didn't even introduce myself Im Y/N". "Im Franky these two are Usopp and Chopper" smiled Franky while pointing at the two. Usopp and Chopper still didn't say anything. Teddy got down on one knee looked at chopper and reached in his pocket. The too scaredy cats were watching his every move when suddenly he pulled out candy from his pocket. "Do you want one little reindeer?" Asked Y/N with a smile Chopper immediately forgot his fear. Not only because the stranger had candy but because someone finally saw him as a reindeer at the first meeting and not a raccoon. He walked over to Y/N and took some candy. Y/N patted his head. Chopper looked up at him and a bit shyly but asked him: "what are those pointy things on your jacket?". The e/c eyed male laughed and answered: "They are spikes I wear them cuz I think it looks cool" smiled the man than put his tongue out in a rocker way to make the little reindeer laugh. Chopper did laugh and then asked: "Can I touch them?" Y/N smiled and motioned for him to come closer. Chopper liked his spikes very much he thought they are dangerous at first that they hurt, but they didn't. This way Chopper ended up sitting on Y/Ns shoulder. Usopp watched this whole scene with interest. You were THIS nice. Now he feels stupid for thinking you are mean or anything but the way you are dressed deceived him. Usopp was staring at you red faced. It was not only that you were really good looking you had the kindest personality as well and he really couldn't deny it any longer even to himself he liked you, a lot. Y/N looked at him next. "So you're Usopp?" He asked smiling maybe a bit red in the face...? Nah Usopps eyes were lying to him he surely just saw what he wanted to.

"I...uh...YES, I am the great captain Usopp indeed" he said while sweating trying to play it off full of pride. He was kind of embarrassed after a short silence and he was about to apologize when he heard the most pleasant laughter he had ever heard. Y/N laughed at his antics he thought it was hilarious. "Wow alright mighty and powerful captain Usopp" he said whit a mock bow, then they both started laughing Chopper didn't really get it he just sat on Y/Ns shoulder eating the Candy he got while Franky just looked at them with a knowing smile.

After they bought everything they needed (which took nearly the whole day since they had such a great time with Y/N) they had to go back to the ship. Usopp was not happy nor was Chopper and to be fair Franky also took a liking to Y/N so its safe to say none of them wanted to leave him on the island. Y/N was not happy either to see them go he had a great time and enjoyed Usopps funny antics to no end. How ever to recruit a new crew mate was not their job not to mention they had no idea if Y/N was any good in battle.

Usopp was sulking the whole way back. And on the ship as well. They planned to stay on the port of the island for the night then set sail in the morning.

Zoro was on night watch and all of a sudden he saw someone approaching the ship. He stood up to see if the person was actually coming to the ship, but there was no misunderstanding the person was coming to the ship with something on their shoulder and a small bag in their hand. Zoro reacted the moment he saw that that something on the strangers shoulders was an ax.

He jumped off the ship right on the stranger. However, to Zoros utter disbelief, they dodged it. Now that the street light helped him see he saw that it was a guy, wearing a leather jacket with spikes badges and what not. This did not interest him however the thing that bothered him was the ax on his shoulder and the fastness he dodged his attack with it was almost inhuman like.

"What do you want with this ship?" Asked Zoro accusingly. "Listen this is a misunderstanding-" but the stranger did not get to finish their sentence because Zoro attacked. To Zoros disappointed the stranger blocked all of his blows and dodged them with excellence and grace very much like he saw Mihawk do it. The only difference between this guy and Mihawk was that he didn't attack back he just kept defending and of course he used an axe. The rest of the strawhats woke up to this commission outside and watched the fight with shock. Someone holding their own against Zoro with one hand and a small axe without breaking a sweat or attacking back? This was crazy. The moment Usopp stepped on the front of the ship to see whats going on his eyes widened and he looked at Franky. "Isnt that-" "Yes he is" "shouldn't we-" "Yes we should" the two looked at each other then forward at the battle and started yelling "STOP STOP" very loudly Franky jumped off the ship to stop Zoro while Usopp ran over to Y/N to stop him as well.

"Huh?" Asked Zoro after Franky stood in front of him. "Why are you standing in the way?" He asked kind of upset, Franky didn't answer just looked at Y/N and asked "What are you doing here Y/N?".

"Im sorry to disturb your night but after I was going to close the shop I found Usopps bag, and I wanted to return it, so after I left the shop I tried to find your ship based on how you guys described it and well I got kinda lost thats why I only got here this late" explained the s/c male panting lightly due to dodging Zoros attacks. Usopp got red in the face, very red, he left his bag there and didn't even notice since he was busy thinking about Y/N all night. "Thanks Y/N so much somehow I didn't even notice" "Wait you know this punk?" Asked Zoro.

"Wow you're quick" laughed Y/N lightly this made others chuckle a bit as well. "We bought ship supplies from him he was the shop keeper we were telling you about during dinner" yelled Chopper excitedly while running to Y/N to sit on his shoulders. "I don't care what shop you own how did you dodge my attacks this effortlessly?" Asked Zoro still a bit pissed. "Oh thats all thanks to my dad he trained me all my childhood" answered Y/N truthfully. "Your dad? Who is your dad if I may ask the way you move reminds me of someone" asked Sanji. He took a liking to the punk the moment he made fun of Zoro. "Mihawk, Dracule Mihawk" Everyones jaw dropped with their eyes bulging out of their sockets. "MIHAWK HAS A KID???" Yelled Zoro shocked. "Yeah Im kind of used to these reactions however y'all are a bit extreme Im guessing you know him" said Y/N in a usual tone not very phased by their reactions."Join my crew" said Luffy all of a sudden. Nami screamed when she notice Luffy was standing next to her because when everyone came out he was still sleeping. "You look strong and I saw you fight then I heard you are Mihawks son you are joining my crew" said Luffy smiling big. "Oh... eh I really didn't plan on becoming a pirate..." started off Y/N. Then he looked at Usopp who was looking at him with hopeful eyes and then at Chopper who was looking with puppy eyes Franky also tried doing Puppy eyes but it looked rather creepy from a big man like him. It was still hard though Y/N liked this town not to mention his shop. "But you are joining" said Luffy still smiling then headed back to his bed like the discussion was ower "uh..." Y/N stood there confused, then Usopp started laughing, "Yeah Im afraid it isn't your decision " Usopp continued laughing then started to walk towards the ship. With everyone else "Come on Y/N you are our nakama now" smiled Usopp while grabbing his hand and walking to the Thousand sunny. Never judge a book by its cover I guess you could say that for any member of the Straw hat crew Y/N will fit right in.

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WELP

My second fanfic🥳

I wrote this for an embarrassingly long time even I don't know why lol💀

Anyway I LOVE Usopp he is so goofy and no mf in the world will tell me he isn't gay not yo mention Im a HUGE believer of trans Usopp so😗

SO I hope you liked this fic I will write more with time but I have things to do

Ladies, gentlemen and others I hope you enjoyed your reading, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖

#one piece imagine #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x male reader #straw hat usopp #usopponepiece #usopp x reader #usopp x y/n #usopp x you #straw hats x reader #male reader

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riordanness · 4 months

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better than revenge — [k.jones]

wordcount: 2.1K

warnings: none???

requested: no

“C’mon lass, you get what you want, and I get what I want.”

I raise my eyebrows at this. “Oh?” I question, sipping from my goblet, keeping my eyes on him.

“What do I get out of this?” I ask, my voice hard and my gaze resolute. If I knew one thing, it was to never let down my guard, never show weakness.

The man laughs, tips his head back and gulps the rest of his alcohol down. He looks me in the eye. “I’ll let you live, lass… and I’ll even throw in a few pieces of gold for your trouble.”

I stare at him for the count of four.

“Deal.”

Hours later, under cover of nightfall, I tiptoe down the docks. My leather boots are soft and worn from use, and I have perfected the art of silent footsteps.

My fingers curl around the hilt of my sword, ready to pull it from its sheath the moment I perceive a threat of any kind.

I silently go through my mission once again, knowing full well a single mistake will result in my death. If the pirates aboard this ship don’t get me, the man who sent me on this mission surely will.

I have a simple goal: sneak aboard the Jolly Roger, find a magical compass, and get out alive.

My eyes rest on the ship itself, its name painted in cursive letters right on the waterline, so as the ship moves slightly on the waves, the words appear to dance.

I slip forward, seeing no one on deck. With one swift, fluid movement, I place my right hand on the starboard railing, then I use the momentum from a scissor kick to propel myself from the dock to the deck, dropping without a sound onto my feet.

I quickly shift my body to the shadows, crouching down and moving fast, getting to the doors leading to the lower deck.

Opening it, I slip inside, shutting it quietly behind me. I hadn’t spent the greatest amount of time on boats in my short life, and I haven’t the faintest idea of where to search for a compass of all things.

Luckily for me, I have a locator. I pull it from my pocket now, a shiny white stone, glowing faintly. Apparently, the closer to the compass I get, the brighter the light will shine.

I turn in a slow circle, and when I face the corridor to my left, the brightness of the stone becomes more obvious, in a way I can’t describe. It didn’t become literally brighter, exactly, but it was suddenly very clear which direction I should take.

I follow the stone’s magical light, until it leads me to a small desk inside what I think is the captain’s chambers. Luckily for me, no one is at home. I’m daft. the entire ship is empty. The crew must be out for a night at the pub, and good for me too.

I yank at the top drawer of the desk, its hinges crusty and rough. When the drawer finally slides open, my eyes come to rest on the only object inside.

A golden compass.

I smile, and reach towards the compass. The metal is cool to my touch, and my fingertips glide over it as smoothly as if it was polished merely moments earlier.

I lift it up out of the drawer, dangling it in the air in front of me. I stare in awe, watching as the compass catches the light, glittering and flashing. Rainbows dance across the chamber’s walls, filling the room with colour.

I am just about to drop the compass into my dress pocket, when a voice behind me scares the daylight out of me.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

I whirl around, shoving the compass into the deep pocket of my skirts. It was safest there; the pocket easily missed due to the many folds of my skirts. I draw my sword, and stare at the dark figure lurking in the doorway.

Shadows dance across his face, distorting his features. He’s tall, and I can tell his sword is also drawn, the blade catching the light of the only lamp in the room. My eyes drop to the lamp on the desk beside me. Without thinking, I blow out the flame.

It’s completely dark. I use this to my advantage, running fast at the doorway, crashing into the figure. We both land hard on the floor, and I scramble to my feet, ready to run.

But then, hands grab at my waist, hold me fast, and my hopes of escape crumble.

“You aren’t getting away that easily, love,” an accented voice whispers in my ear, before something hits my head, and I remember nothing else.

•••

My head pounds, and I dread opening my eyes. When I do, I immediately cringe in pain as light seemingly floods my vision, increasing my headache by tenfold.

I push myself up to a sitting position, taking in my surroundings. I’m in a bed, a simple woven blanket over me. I’m still in my normal clothes, which means no one changed me, thank goodness.

With a slight gasp, I hastily check my pocket. Of course, no compass. I shouldn’t have even dared to hope it remained in my possession. Of course that pirate would have taken it back.

Speaking of that pirate, I frown. Turning over all the events of last night (or what I assume was the last night; I’m not sure how much time has passed since I was knocked out; or even what time of day it is. Whoever’s cabin this is, they clearly hate windows), I shiver slightly. The memory of that voice in my ear, whispering seductively…

I shake myself, and climb out of the bed. I must find that compass, even if I am now a prisoner on this bloody pirate ship.

I leave the cabin, finding my way down the corridor, trying to find the familiar door that leads to the upper deck. When I finally find it, I can hear voices from outside. Pirates laughing and shouting and jeering at each other. At least half of the voices are obviously drunk.

My choice is a simple one, but I still hesitate. Remain a prisoner on this ship? Or risk dying in the battle across the deck?

My father always used to call me his little daredevil, before he died, so I decide to live up to his nickname for me, and push open the door.

The moment I step onto the deck, into the harsh sunlight, the chatter all around me stops. A dozen pairs of pirate eyes gape at me in curiosity. I wonder how often a woman has been on this ship.

Suddenly, someone drops down in front of me, swinging off a top with one hand, and landing on his feet. Startled, I take a step backwards, almost losing my balance.

The man straightens, and locks eyes with me. He smiles, but it’s not a nice smile. I mean, it’s nice. He’s fairly attractive, but his smile leaks devilishness.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, love,” the man says, and I would recognise that voice anywhere. He’s the man from last night, the man who knocked me out.

“I’m Killian Jones,” he continues. “Or as I’m not commonly known as, Captain Hook. To whom do I owe the honour?”

My eyes narrow suspiciously. I am a girl who has tried to steal from him, and yet he seems unaffected by this fact. My guard is instantly up, and I prepare for a fight.

“You are going to let me go,” I say stubbornly, wishing badly that I had my sword. I hadn’t noticed it right away when I’d awoken, but they’d taken it from me. “And I require your golden compass as well as my freedom.”

Killian Jones stares at me for a moment, then throws his head back and laughs.

His crew joins in the laughter, some pointing their fingers at me, some jeering and making stupid noises and gestures.

I roll my eyes at them. I have no time for men who aren’t my father. They’re a troublesome species that require a great deal too much effort for my own personal liking.

The captain gains his composure, and stares at me, rather dumbfounded.

“Love, there’s no way in hell I am giving you this compass, just like that.”

I narrow my eyes. “Then fight me for it. A duel. Winner gets the compass.”

Killian Jones raises an eyebrow at me apprehensively. “I don’t fight women. At least not with a sword.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Then this’ll be an easy win.” I step quickly towards one of the crew members, elbow him in the chest and pull at his sword at the same time, yanking it from its sheath as he stumbles backwards.

I launch an attack on Killian, my sword coming down on his head. In a flash, he brings his arm up to stop my blade.

My sword clangs against metal, and I stare in shock at what should be Killian’s hand… but isn’t. Replacing his hand is a shiny hook, which has caught my blade mid-air.

I blink in surprise. “You…”

“Yes, I know,” Killian sighs. “Captain Hook isn’t just a catchy nickname.” With his other hand, he gently pries my fingers off the hilt of the borrowed sword.

“Now, love, you’re going to stop attacking me, and do what I say. Or else you’re not going to get a very happy ending.”

I stand, deflated, and watch as he tells a crew mate to tie my hands together, and lash me to the main mast. I slump to the ground, a heavy feeling of defeat clouding over me. I watch in silence as Killian and his crew go back to their loud, joyful drinking. I seem to be forgotten, just like that.

I grit my teeth in frustration, but am suddenly aware of how loosely my bonds have been tied. Clearly, the crew member Killian Jones elected to tie me up was more than a little bit drunk. I smirk to myself as I wriggle my fingers, working at the poorly made knots.

Once my hands are free, I still, watching carefully, planning my escape. Most of the crew have wandered below decks now, and only Killian Jones and another man with a red beanie over his messy hair (who I guess is first mate), stand against the ship’s railing across the other end of the Jolly Roger.

Killian seems to bore of the first mate, and dismisses him, waving his hand at the man. The man disappears into one of the doorways at the back of the ship.

I wait, silent, hoping Hook will follow his mate. He doesn’t seem to have any plans of doing this. For a while, I just sit and watch him as he leans his back against the railing, picking at his metal hook, running his forefinger up and down it, tracing the sharp edges.

“You alright there, love?”

The break in silence startles me so much I barely hear the question. “I–what?”

Kilian looks up, meets my eyes, and smirks slowly, his chin tilting up a little as he does so. His tongue traces his upper teeth, his eyes studying me hard.

“I can’t let you go, you know,” he says.

“Why?” I refuse to believe him. There has to be a way for me to get out of this. Silently, I curse that random, awful man in the tavern for getting me into this mess. Even for a bit of gold and my life, I doubt this is worth it. A whole lot of hassle for not much gain, it was starting to seem.

“Because,” Hook replies, apparently not wanting to elaborate.

I roll my eyes. I am done with this rubbish. I stand quickly, my ropes dropping to the deck.

Killian’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t seem especially surprised at my escape. “What exactly are you going to do now?” he asks me, a glint in his eyes. Whether it’s from amusement or pure evil, I don’t exactly know.

“Get out of here and kill you,” I say, eyes narrowed.

He laughs. “Okay, love. You do that.” For a moment, he does nothing but play with the hilt of his sword. Then he looks up at me. “You know, you could always join my crew.”

I frown immediately. “What do you mean? Why on earth would I do that?”

He smirks. “Because… I want you to.”

I stare at him, unsure if he’s serious or joking. Then, I make a dumb decision and decide, “Why not.”

#killian jones #ouat #ouat fanfic #fanfiction #killian jones x reader #once upon a time #ouat x reader #captain hook #hook x reader

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candycandy00 · 1 year

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The Pirate and the Mermaid - A Shigaraki x Reader Fanfic Part 1

This is the AU idea that won the poll, and I’d planned to write it after finishing some other fics but I just couldn’t stop myself. It was getting too long so I had to break it up into two parts. Part two will be posted in a few days, so check back for it. Part two will also be more smutty than part one. Any feedback at all would be greatly appreciated!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Smut. 18+. Dubcon. General rough treatment of Reader. Shigaraki is a pirate captain, Reader is a mermaid who gets caught in his net.

When you were a young mermaid, just old enough to begin exploring the waters around your home without being accompanied by your parents, you saved a human boy from drowning.

He was around your age, and he’d fallen from a cliff near the sea, his body breaking the surface of the water like a rock, knocking him unconscious. You swam for him, easily catching him before he sank too deeply, and pulled him to the craggy shore. You turned him on his side so the water would pour out of his mouth, then, not knowing what else to do for him, you waited, and watched. After a few minutes, you began to worry that he was dead. You crawled over and leaned close to his face, trying to determine whether or not he was breathing.

At that moment, his eyes snapped open, and you’ll never forget the strange red color of them. You’d never seen eyes that color on anyone before, human or merfolk. They reminded you of a bright burning sunset.

He stared at you for a moment, then suddenly began coughing, his body attempting to force the remaining water from his lungs. You took the opportunity to slip back into the sea, swimming past the rolling waves and disappearing into the depths.

It would be four years later before you saw the boy again. This time he was on a large wooden ship with black sails. The humans called this a pirate ship. He was working with several other teenage boys, scrubbing the deck, tying ropes, carrying buckets. When he came to pour some water over the side, he was close enough for you to see his face. He had two scars that hadn’t been there before, and his soft white hair was longer, touching his shoulders.

You watched him from beneath the surface of the water all day, sometimes coming up to get a better look when you were sure he couldn’t see you.

Humans had always fascinated you, with their strong legs and their loud, breathy voices. Though humans didn’t seem to know merfolk existed, merfolk were very much aware of humans and had learned much about them over the centuries. Some merfolk had even studied the corpses of humans that had been found on the ocean floor.

You were amazed that humans had no gills or fins, but even more amazed by the similarities. Human and merfolk looked almost identical down to the legs, where merfolk had fins from the knees down while humans had feet. Merfolk also had gills on either side of their torsos, right below the rib cage, and small translucent fins on their outer thighs.

Merfolk had learned to comprehend the human languages used near their seas, but they had trouble speaking it. Even when out of the water, breathing dry air, it was difficult to form words. Like most merfolk, you could say a few words, but anything more made you feel like all your oxygen was suddenly depleted.

So when you heard humans laughing or singing, you were transfixed. This had led to you floating a little too close to ships sometimes, something your parents warned you against.

On the day you saw the red-eyed boy again, you followed his ship for hours, even after the sky grew dark, just to catch glimpses of him on the deck. Eventually you had to abandon the ship, fearing that you would drift too far from home.

Over the next few years, you spotted him occasionally when his ship passed through your seas. Each time he was a bit taller, wearing clothes that were a bit sturdier, like a leather coat and tall boots, now carrying a sword at his side. He stopped doing random tasks on the ship, now spending time at the helm or deeper inside the ship where you couldn’t see him. At one point you heard someone else call him “Captain”. From what you understood, this meant he was in charge of the entire ship.

One night he came onto the deck late at night, when no one else was around, and looked out over the water. The moon was full and bright in the sky. You were watching, just under the water, daring to get a bit closer, depending on the darkness to hide you. His eyes suddenly shifted down to you, and they widened slightly. He leaned over the side, trying to get a better look, but you quickly dove deep, your heart thundering, worried that he’d seen you clearly enough to be certain of what you were.

That night was half a year ago, and now you find yourself watching his ship again as it passes through the waters surrounding your home. You’ve seen him at the helm a couple of times, but he’s been lingering on the deck much more than usual, pacing around and inspecting the work of those doing the tasks he used to perform. More than once he’s went to the side to look out over the gently rolling water, and your heart races each time. Is he looking for you?

You remain out of sight. Even if you’d love to properly meet him and interact with him, you can’t risk exposing your family and friends to humans. If you’re spotted here, the humans might search these waters carefully and find your home.

He’s at the side again, looking down, and you worry that you might be too close to the surface. You quickly swim to the side, darting under the ship to move to the other side. Just as you clear the dark shadow cast by the enormous boat, you feel rough tendrils wrap around you, like the seaweed merfolk use to tie things together, only much stronger. Isn’t this what humans call rope? Wait, isn’t this a net?

You try to swim away from it, but it’s tangled around your legs and through your hair. You struggle and pull, but that only seems to make it worse. At some point you realize you’re being pulled up, toward the surface. Toward the ship.

When you’re lifted out of the water, still tangled in the net, you find the red eyed captain standing there, staring at you. For a few moments, you both look at each other with wonder, and then the spell breaks.

“Haul her over,” he commands, then steps back to give his men room to swing the net over and drop you on the deck. You gasp at the pain of colliding with the hard wood, then try to disentangle yourself. If you can just get free of the net, you can crawl over and slip off the side of the ship.

The captain walks over, holding a large knife in one hand. You watch apprehensively as he begins cutting through the net. He’s freeing you! Could it be that he remembers being saved by you when you were both young?

After cutting most of the rope away, he gathers a long piece of it in his hands, then wraps it around your wrists. He stands up, hoisting your arms above your head so roughly that you give a little cry of pain. A couple of his men come over and secure the rope around your wrists to a tall wooden pole, effectively pulling you upright, your fins dangling a few inches from the wood.

You wriggle and jerk at the rope, trying to slip out. Your arms and shoulders are aching, and the rope is biting into the wet skin of your wrists. You look at the captain pleadingly. You almost beg him to help you, but you hold back. Speaking the human tongue is difficult and drains your oxygen. You decide to wait.

The men on the deck are staring at you with wide eyes. One of them steps a bit closer and says, “They really do exist!”

Another man turns to the captain and asks, “How did you know we’d find her here? When you accepted this job I thought you were crazy, but here she is right in front of our eyes!”

The captain’s eyes have never left you. “I thought I saw her around these parts a few months ago.”

One of the other men gives a cheer. “She’ll catch us a fortune! This is the highest paying job we’ve ever taken!”

The captain nods to the two men who had tied you to the pole. They touch the seaweed wraps around your chest and waist, and you try to shrink back away from them.

“It’s not cloth,” one of them says. “I think it’s seaweed.”

The captain is looking you in the eyes when he says, “Remove it.”

You immediately begin struggling against the ropes again. Merfolk have a tendency to be modest about certain parts of their body, only revealing them to lovers. Are they really going to strip you of your coverings, right here in front of all these men?

The two men take out knives and begin ruthlessly cutting through the seaweed wraps until they fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed. You whimper and try to clamp your legs shut in an attempt to cover yourself.

One of the men reaches a hand toward you, as if to touch you, but the captain suddenly says, in a commanding voice, “No one is to touch her! Am I understood?”

The man who had reached for you quickly withdraws his hand as several calls of, “Yes, Captain!” sound over the deck.

The captain himself walks over and stands in front of you, those red eyes roaming over your body. You blush crimson under his gaze, closing your eyes and turning your face away in shame.

The sun is burning hot in the sky, already drying you out, making you feel like you’re on fire. Merfolk could survive outside the water, but after a short time it became painful to do so. It was hard to breathe without the added oxygen from the water. Your skin and fins dried, cracked, and bled. Some brave merfolk had tested the limits generations ago. Yes, they could live, but only in misery.

You suddenly feel two warm, dry hands on your hips, sliding down your damp skin, roughly rubbing over your fins. You open your eyes and find the captain looking at the tiny fins on your thighs as he repeatedly runs his hands over them. They twitch from his touch, and he seems amazed. His hands move further down, past your knees, where they find your main fins. He strokes the scales there, sending tremors through your body. Then, all at once, he lifts your legs up by your knees and pulls them apart to stare between them.

You struggle to free your legs, but his grip is strong. You let out a strangled cry as he shifts one of your legs to be held beneath his arm so his free hand can probe your most intimate place. “She’s just like a human woman down here,” he says, his voice cold and emotionless. “I wondered how her people mate. I guess they do it just like us.”

He drops your legs, the sudden weight of them pulling on your arms painfully. Then his hands are on the underside of your arms, moving down beside your breasts, stopping at your gills. You draw in a sharp breath, causing them to flutter as they attempt to draw in water that isn’t there. His fingers slide into the folds, and you cry out again. Your gills are very sensitive, and his fingers moving into them is more painful than you imagined.

Withdrawing his hands, the captain steps back to look you up and down. One of the men beside him is looking at you as if you’re a deity. “She’s beautiful,” the man says in a reverent voice. “We should set her free.”

Still looking at you, the captain says, “She’s a monster, and she’s worth more than her weight in gold.”

The hot air is merciless on your skin, the sun’s heat unrelenting. You decide to finally speak, or at least try.

“Please,” you say in a weak, small voice, causing the men to look at you in shock. “I need… water.”

“She speaks our language?” one of the men asks, suddenly seeming afraid.

The captain calls for someone to bring him a bucket of water, then carries it over and sloshes the water over your body. The cool liquid feels so good on your dry scales, it almost overrides the soreness of your arms.

You shiver from the pleasure of it, then look at the captain. “Thank you,” you manage to force out.

He looks up at the sky, squinting at the sun, then turns to his men. “We’ll take her below deck. Get a cabin ready.”

You feel a small bit of relief to know he’s not going to leave you strung up under the blazing sun.

“Do you… remember me?” you ask in your weak voice.

The captain looks at you with those red eyes, but says nothing.

“You fell… from a cliff… when you were young…”

His eyes widen slightly, and you can see the recognition there, like the pieces all coming together in his mind. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him, but he suddenly turns his back to you and says, “I don’t remember.”

You droop in despair, realizing he’s not the kind hearted human you imagined him to be.

Some time passes, and one of the men emerges from deeper into the ship and reports that they’ve readied a cabin for you. The captain approaches and cuts the rope holding you up, then catches you in his arms. Your own arms, sore and exhausted, drop over his head, effectively leaving your wrists tied together around his neck. It’s an intimate position that makes you redden. Your bodies are pressed together, you’re completely nude, and his hands are on you to keep you from falling.

He carries you down the wooden steps leading beneath the deck, down a hall, and into a room. There’s another wooden post here and you make a whining sound as he pulls your arms up again and ties them above your head. Your arms are throbbing in pain. You look at the captain with tears in your eyes and say, “Please… it hurts.”

He turns away from you and motions two of his men in. They’re carrying tall buckets full of water. They sit them on the floor close to you, and the captain lifts your fins, one at a time, and places them in the buckets. The water reaches up to your knees, and feels so wonderful. Before you know it, he’s holding another bucket. This one he splashes over you, from your head down to your thighs.

The captain hands the bucket to one of the men and says, “Pour water over her every hour. We have to keep her healthy until we sell her.”

Your eyes meet his. “Sell?”

He averts his gaze. “We have a buyer waiting to take you.”

“What will… they do to me?”

He heads toward the door as he replies, “I don’t know. It’s not my concern.” He hesitates, then adds, “Probably nothing good.”

Then, you’re left alone in the dimly lit room.

You count the hours by the number of times someone comes to splash a bucket of water on you. Four times. Four times you feel some small measure of comfort. The men stare at you, but none dare touch you.

Just before the fifth time, the captain walks into your room. He’s holding a plate piled with seaweed, kelp, and other sea vegetables. He steps closer to you and says, “I don’t know what your people eat, but I thought fish might be in poor taste.”

You nod at him, and he uses a metal fork to feed you. After you eat around half the items on the plate, he pulls a round orange object from his coat pocket, as well as a knife. He uses the knife to cut the outer layer of the object away.

“Have you eaten one of these before?”

You shake your head.

“It’s called a citrus fruit. They don’t grow on the lands around here.” He slices off a piece of the object’s flesh and holds it up to your mouth. You look at his thin fingers holding the “fruit”. They’re dripping with the object’s juice, and it looks delicious. You open your mouth, and he places the piece of fruit inside, his fingers grazing your tongue.

An explosion of flavor bursts in your mouth. You’ve never tasted anything like this! It’s so juicy and refreshing. After swallowing it, you open your mouth again, waiting for the next piece. He stares at your open lips for a moment before cutting off another slice.

He feeds you the rest of the fruit until only one slice remains. When he places it in your mouth, you instinctively close your lips around his fingers, licking the juice off.

His eyes seem to flash with something as he pulls his hand away and looks at the thin string of your saliva connecting his fingertips to your lips. Then he puts those fingers in his own mouth and licks them clean. You’re unaccustomed to things of a sexual nature, but the act makes you feel heated somehow.

He pulls off his coat and lets it fall to the wet, sticky floor, then walks around behind you. Not being able to see him makes you nervous, so you try to twist in your bonds. This causes a jolt of agony to race up your arms, and you cry out.

“What hurts you?” you hear his voice behind you ask. “Your arms? Or the lack of water?”

It was both, but right now one was worse than the other. “My arms,” you say.

His hands touch your upper arms, gently, and begin massaging them. It hurts at first, but then your muscles begin to relax slightly as his hands firmly but comfortably rub them. He moves down, working at your shoulders, then beneath your arms. You sigh in pleasure, just glad to feel something other than pain in your arms.

He does this for a few minutes, his body so close that you can feel the fabric of his white shirt against your bare back. Then, his hands slip around to cup your breasts. You stiffen, your small gasp seeming loud in the silence of the room. He massages them as he did your arms, and though you’re embarrassed, you can’t say it feels unpleasant. Your breaths get more shallow, and you realize it’s probably been more than an hour since your last bucket of water.

One of his hands slides down your stomach and moves between your thighs. You squirm, trying to escape his touch, but you’re helpless to stop him as his fingers press into your folds and rub circles around your clit. Your whole body trembles as he keeps up the motions, his other hand still groping your breast.

“Please,” you manage to breathe out.

His voice is calm, almost cold, as he asks, “Please what?”

You can’t answer, because you don’t know. Do you want him to stop? There’s a primal pleasure building inside you, making you quiver. Is it wrong to want to feel good, when you’ve only felt pain all day?

For years, you’ve thought about this man. You’ve daydreamed about meeting him, interacting with him. And as you grew into an adult, those daydreams sometimes included being touched by him. But you never imagined, in your darkest nightmares, that he would have you strung up painfully in his ship, taking you to be sold to strangers who would most definitely do terrible things to you.

Tears form in your eyes. Your heart is so confused! You feel his fingers stroking your clit, more roughly than before, as he pinches your nipple. You gasp again, loudly this time, then a moan escapes you as you shudder through rippling pleasure.

The captain finally pulls away and steps around to stand in front of you. He holds up the hand he’d shoved between your legs, and clear sticky fluid is dripping from it.

“Looks like you get aroused the same way humans do,” he says, examining his fingers.

You blush furiously. Was this just some experiment? But then he licks his fingers again, his red eyes staring at yours.

He walks over and picks up a bucket of water, then sloshes it over you. Without another word, he leaves the room.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki

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