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#nice and accurate seas
francescaswords · 3 months
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Wintery Book Recommendations!
As I recall, most of the regulars to this space live in the Northern Hemisphere and are, presumably, currently quite cold. So I thought I would put together a list of cosy books to distract you as your nose runs and your glasses steam up every time you go from outdoors to indoors. Don’t need glasses yet? Just wait. Carmilla The vampire novel that came before Dracula, I have a very specific…
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ghosts-and-glory · 12 days
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Just curious!
In your AU, does Narinder have to openly come out as trans, or is it just generally understood even early on that he was trans?
If he does have a coming out, who do you think he told first? What were his siblings initial reactions?
How old do you think Narinder would have been when he realized?
When did the lamb learn? Was it common knowledge by then? Did they effectively look up at their God and go "ayo, nice battle scars, sick as fuck, anyway" and move on?
Also are we gonna see more little Narinder, and what got him all fucked up?
I am so invested in your story, but this aspect in specific I am latched onto like a tick. You cannot get rid of me. I am THIRSTY for knowledge.
Additionally, if in some hypothetical, little child Narinder met a young Lamb, do you think they would have been friends?
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Totally not based on the time my brother came out to me and because I have the emotional bandwidth of a sea cucumber was just like “okay, cool.”
I’d say he’s around 12-14. In my heart Nari was one of those trans kids who the second he had the slightest understanding of gender was like “something ain’t right here chief.”
Fighting for my life trying to find a way to colour doodles in a way that doesn’t take ten years or look like shit.
More ramblings under the cut.
My Lamb is also non-binary so it’s not much of a deal to them. Dying on my casual trans rep hill. I don’t care if it’s not period accurate, I simply choose not to recognize transphobia.
Narinder gets slowly poisoned through his life. For the other Bishops, chaos, famine, disease and war will all eventually end in death, and dead men can’t worship. As a god of death he is to preach the glory and beauty of dying but, ironically, can’t die himself. He feels at odds with his family and trapped by life and this mentality slowly warps his view of the world and destroys him over hundreds of years.
Simply put he allows toxicity to pour and warp over toxicity. He lets it twist and compound his mind and it happens so slowly no one notices.
For the Lamb and Narinder theoretically meeting as children I honestly haven’t through much on how I’d characterize The Lamb as a child. My heart wants to say yes they would get along. My source is I made it the fuck up.
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erideights · 7 months
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Little pieces here and there (3)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, four, five
Word Count: around 2K again.
Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times
A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)
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Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.
Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.
Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.
That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.
(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.
Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.
Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.
Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?
Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.
After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.
At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.
"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."
Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.
"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.
"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."
"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.
"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.
"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.
"Take a guess"
"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"
The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.
His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."
She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.
He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.
"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."
By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.
At least until they reach Arlong Park.
Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.
Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.
A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.
She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.
Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.
The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.
Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.
Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.
It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--
And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.
"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.
‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’
And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.
Bastard.
''You better'', she whispers to herself.
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svrgeakio · 2 months
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ཐི ۵ ཋྀ
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PICK A CARD READING
10 random pick messages
about your future spouse
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⭒ masterlist 𝆩 𝅄 ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝅄 𝆩 pick a card ⭒
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ⓘ this is a general reading and is crafted with various of energies, be mindful that not all written and is said are all accurate.
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PILE 1
i. neat and clean
ii. white could be a favorite color
iii. very social / society knows them
iv. appearance is important; need to be perfect all the time as possible
v. active and loves to travel
vi. put themselves first before the others: little bit selfish
vii. excellent money handling/ well-off
viii. very vocal about their love to someone
ix. likes to update their love one
x. from the distance; can be a foreigner for some
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PILE 2
i. beautiful and nice hands
ii. mother is important person in their life
iii. a boss / act like a boss
iv. from foreign / work by the sea / migrate to other country
v. travel is the main thing / dream of traveling
vi. depressed/ has an illness / dark color
vii. family oriented / has family issues / childhood trauma / their family has lot of kids (siblings)
viii. childish / likes kids / prefer to have lots of kids
ix. friendly / charming / attractive - smells good and nice
x. secretive / pessimistic
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PILE 3
i. cold and impatient
ii. separation issues / hesitant about their decision
iii. intelligent and is educated/ a secret child of their parent
iv. young looking / childish/ naive
v. profits related with children
vi. wealthy/ successful in life / financial burdens
vii. depressed/ suffers alot / too weak for a certain situation
viii. lucky but has it's karma / open minded / gamble then loss alot
ix. overworked/ overwhelmed at something
x. once they fall, it last long for a long time
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© post is marked and authorized by @svrgeakio in tumblr 2023. any duplicate and imitation without a valid credit should face punishment.
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fyodorloveclub · 1 month
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TIDAL TEMPTATIONS. - chapter i
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༄ pairing: merman!fyodor x afab reader
༄ cw: sfw (for now), non-gory descriptions of and treatment of stab wounds to fyodor, very brief mentions of blood. not intended to be medically accurate, treat ur stab wounds as you wish
༄ notes: hello :) welcome to my first multi-chapter fic! this has been a work in progress for some time, and im quite nervous abt posting this first part so be nice pls <3 just as a note, fyodor is referred to exclusively as he/him until reader names him next chapter (he can't speak human language yet) enjoy!
༄ wc: 4k
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Since moving to a beachside village after spending your whole life in a landlocked town, your mother had outlined ample, strict rules regarding the sea.
Rule 1: No venturing out past sundown.
This was the rule you broke on an almost nightly basis. Your mother was quite the early riser, meaning she often was out cold before the fireflies had even begun flashing yellow and green. It was far too easy to slip out the back door with a flashlight, barefoot to keep your footsteps silent as possible. There was no feeling more serene than dawdling down the shore, mushy sand between your toes and waves lapping at your ankles as the salty breeze curled around you. It was pitch black save for the bioluminescent creatures that washed up on the shore and the pale glow emanating from your flashlight, and it was comforting. While many feared darkness, you found solace in its embrace.
Rule 2: No swimming past the sandbar.
Also a frequently broken rule. You found it to be far too restrictive, as the sandbar was only a dozen meters from the shore. No fish could be found that shallow, and it was much easier for crabs to nip at you when you were that close to the sandy floor. Being out deeper, where the gentle waves tousled and hugged you, was where you felt the most at home.
Rule 3: No fraternizing with sea beings.
That’s the name that had been put in place for entities that straddled the line of human and creature. Some believed they were even the missing link. Very little was known about sea beings, mostly due to the universal fear of them. They often had unsettling, bone-chilling appearances and never appeared to be overly friendly to humans, so a firm boundary was set. You must never approach a sea being.
All three of these rules were broken the night you met him.
Well, you assumed it was a “him”. He had a flat chest and sharp, masculine features, but he wasn’t human. His human-esque appearance terminated at his hips, where pale, nearly translucent skin tapered into onyx black scales, flowing into a sleek, obscenely long tail. His fluke, also inky black, was reminiscent of a betta fish’s frail fins, flowy with spindly edges, yet fanned strong against the current.
That was all you were able to see of him, at first. You had swam out well past the sandbar one night, flashlight in hand as you dove past the waves, your beam suddenly illuminating his form. He remained very still, head tilting as you made eye contact, as if he was observing you. And he was – he had heard the unmistakable sound of a human swimming, a somewhat ungraceful, clumsy affair, and followed it. Typically, when he sensed humans in the water, he would jet in the other direction – humans didn’t treat him kindly, and he had the scars to prove it. But there was something… different about you. A sweeter scent and a gentler aura. And he was curious - so instead of making a beeline towards his cove when he sensed your presence in the water, he swam closer.
He was immediately enamored by you. You were much softer and merciful, and he didn’t sense a single bad intention. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t uneasy. The only interactions he’d ever had with humans were traumatic, and other than appearances, he had no way of knowing you were any different. Claws bared, fangs ready, and tail already swishing, he was prepared for fight or flight – though he remained, just watching you. And you the same. It was drilled into your head, the second you spotted a sea being, swim as fast as possible towards the shore and never look back. There were a handful of reports of villagers being attacked by sea beings and barely making it out alive, and one case of a child who didn’t. Their presence was not to be taken lightly.
Yet, for some reason, both of you just… watched.
Watched and waited for the other to make a move - to attack. He thought it was surely any second until you unveiled a spear from behind your back to impale him, and you were just waiting to be torn to shreds by those claws. But nothing ever happened. You held his gaze and he held yours, studying the other.
Just as fascinated as you were by him, he was utterly fascinated by you. He had never gotten this close to a human before, not by his own volition anyway, and he had never truly seen one this plainly. It was easy to tell that you looked similar to him from the top up, but the bottom down was a completely different story. Where he was used to fish tails, scales, and fins, you wore two fleshy, stick-like protrusions that only bent in two places. No wonder humans were so terrible at swimming. He briefly wondered if there was anything between them. 
It wasn’t long before you ran out of air and had to break the surface, but when you dove back down, he was gone. You felt a slight sense of relief that he hadn’t been staking you out as prey, but also a pang of sorrow as you realized you’d likely never see him again. What you didn’t know is that he hadn’t gone far, just hid behind a formation of rocks as he watched you dejectedly swim back to the shore. It was a foreign experience – he’d never seen a human… disappointed about escaping from him.
As you snuck back into bed and drifted off that night, you found yourself gilled and fanged, finding home amongst the waves.
~~
You didn’t see him for a while after that. Despite you returning to the same spot from that fateful night every day, marked by an especially large horseshoe crab shell, he was never there. It became part of your daily routine to venture to that spot, a backpack full of books, snacks, and water, and lay out on a towel as the sun drifted through the sky.
It was never quite clear to you what you were waiting for, though. What would you even do if he reappeared? You couldn’t converse, neither of you could go to the other’s homes, what was to be gained from seeing him again? You never quite answered that question – all you knew was that you just had to see him again. At least one more time.
Things started to look bleak as days turned into weeks. Your mother wasn’t happy with you spending nearly every waking second on the beach. She could never find out why either, as she’d likely ban you from stepping foot on the sand ever again. And you even had started to think that maybe you had dreamt it – no way you just happened to run into a breathtakingly beautiful merman-type sea being who didn’t try to attack you. That just didn’t happen.
This… creature, you just couldn’t get him out of your head. He had found his way onto almost every page of your sketchbook, finding new life in graphite, pastels, and watercolors. The inky black tail swirled long and curled on itself on the page, as you occasionally took creative liberties on his appearance. 
Stories of him and your sure-to-happen future rendezvouses began popping up in your diary too - and not just him as a sea creature. You waxed poetic about what he might look like as a full-fledged human, with legs and without fangs. He’d surely be kind and gentlemanly, charming and funny with a deep voice and proper human language. He’d be well spoken and smart, and everything you’d ever dreamed of. 
If he ever showed up again. And it wasn’t looking like he would. Until he did.
On a night where you hadn’t even been on the lookout for him, were just dragging your feet through wet sand and shells when you spotted a dark form curled up on the shore. The moon was but a sliver barely cutting through dense clouds, compromising your vision, but something convinced you to jog that way anyway.
And it was him. The tide that lapped at the sand jostled his barely conscious body, threatening to pull him back out towards the darkness. You gasped as you ran and fell to your knees next to him, immediately recognizing the onyx tail with the delicate fins and opalescent skin. Except this time his back was riddled with what appeared to be stab wounds – they were likely a few hours old, no longer gushing blood, but still deep, unhealed gashes that needed to be treated.
“Are- are you okay?” you stupidly asked – as if he was conscious or human enough to answer that question.
When he didn’t respond, you shifted to sit with your legs crossed and pulled his head into your lap, brushing his salt-crusted hair out of his eyes. His large eyes fluttered open at the stimulus, a glowing violet gaze shifting to meet yours.
“Hi,” you whispered, laughing lightly. “I had wanted us to meet again, but not like this.” You had assumed he didn’t understand human language, but the way he only stared at you blankly confirmed this belief.
Anxiety and panic started to bubble up inside you as you absorbed the situation but did your best to ignore it. Swift, calm action needed to be taken if he was to be saved. You shifted your gaze to better assess his injuries and counted five different gashes where he had clearly been stabbed with some sort of weapon – it certainly wasn’t something that had happened naturally. The shape of the wounds was reminiscent of those a fishing harpoon would create, and your face fell as you pieced together what likely happened. Existing in his own territory, he probably swam too close to a fishing boat and spooked the fishermen, prompting them to overreact and attack the harmless creature.
You brought a careful finger to trace along the edges of the wounds, making him jump and hiss, thrashing in your hold as he groaned.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you gasped, your hands immediately flying away. “I’m gonna, um…” you thought for a second. You knew you had medicine and gauze back home, but he was just going to have to go right back in the water, right? It surely was better than nothing…
You slowly started to wiggle out of his grip. “I’m gonna be right back, okay? I need to get supplies to make you better,” you explained slowly, gesturing towards his wounds. He only cocked his head and furrowed his brows. Fuck. He wasn’t going to understand a word you said.
With a grimace, you gently held his head in your hands as you scooted away, slowly laying it back down on the sand. You stood to head back to your house, but the creature suddenly began groaning and crying out, reaching a shaky arm towards you. He was clearly distressed over you abandoning him.
“Hey, hey! I’ll be right back, I swear,” you soothed, crouching down next to him, and gripping his hand. It killed you to have to leave him like this, terrified you might return to either find him dead or washed back out to sea, but you couldn’t just do nothing at all.
You wracked your brain trying to think of a way to communicate to him that you’d be back when words weren’t an option. Grabbing your backpack, you anxiously rummaged through it for some semblance of an idea, all the while he moaned and groaned in pain. Some sort of keepsake you could somehow communicate had value, almost like collateral. Something to say, this is special, proof I’ll be back. As fate would have it, you had decided to do a deep clean of your bag that morning, so you were coming up pretty dry.
The only thing you could think of was an old copy of your favorite book you always carried on you, Crime and Punishment. Mother always teased you for a depressing, old Russian novel being your comfort book, but you never let it phase you. Pulling it out of your backpack, you stared at the old, tattered cover with the faded title, and hoped to god he could make sense of it – that you were trusting him with something that meant a lot to you. There wasn’t much else you could do.
You tucked it under his arm splayed out on the sand, making sure he noticed what you were doing. Petting his hair, you looked him deep in the eyes as you enunciated one more time: I’ll be right back.
Panic coursed through your veins as you clambered to your feet and ran back to your house. The light of your flashlight was nearly useless as you trembled with fear, tripping over shells and driftwood to the point where your feet were probably going to need some treatment too.
The next hurdle in your way as you reached your house was remaining quiet enough so as not to wake your mother – there was no way to explain your way out of frantically searching for medical supplies to run back out with in the middle of the night. When you weren’t even supposed to be out in the first place.
To minimize the amount of time you even had to be away, you just threw anything you could find in the cabinets into your bag, hoping it would be sufficient enough. Though you stopped in front of the mirror as you passed it, staring at your sweaty and distressed appearance, and took a second to wonder what the hell you were doing. Going out of your way to save a potentially homicidal sea being? Those stabbings may have been damn well deserved. He could somehow be manipulating your kindness for… something. You couldn’t even think of what.
You decided it wasn’t even worth fretting about – you had to get your book back anyway.
The trip back to your anxiously awaiting patient felt a million times longer than the trip home, with every step of your bloody feet reminding you that there may be no one – nothing – to come back to. The sea was a place of peace, but cruel and unforgiving. Your prayers were answered as your flashlight once again illuminated his crumpled body, barely conscious but still clinging on to your (soaking wet and likely ruined) book.
A relieved smile illuminated your face as you fell to his side once again, partially burying the flashlight into the sand so it stood upright to act as a lamp.
“You’re – still here,” you smiled, taking a deep breath. You almost said you’re okay, but that wasn’t quite true, yet.
His clawed hand trembled as it reached out for you, the stretch of his fingers revealing the black webbing in between them. You grasped it back tightly and intertwined your fingers together, squeezing. “I’m here, okay?” He offered you the tiniest smile, but immediately dropped it, the miniscule energy it required taking a toll on his wasting body.
The first thing you did was unfurl a massive, striped beach towel you found shoved in the back of a linen closet onto the sand before hooking your elbows under his underarms and dragging him onto it. It was nearly impossible, his entire body essentially dead weight at that point, but you wanted to get him off the dirty sand – and this was the closest thing you could get to a sterile field.
Dumping the contents of your bag onto the towel next to him, you parsed through it trying to figure out some sort of plan of action. You tried to keep the panic at bay as the thought that none of this was sufficient for anything worse than a superficial cut nagged at you. It was this or nothing.
The first thing mother always told you to do for wounds: clean it. A wave of dread washed over you as you pulled out the bottle of rubbing alcohol, your eyes flitting from it to the gaping wounds in his back. The way he looked at you with terrified, leaky eyes, aware that his entire life was in your hands right then, shattered your heart. You almost wished he was unconscious.
Grabbing a washcloth, he watched as you soaked it with rubbing alcohol, his nose scrunching at the offensive smell. Touching his cheek, you tried to smile as he met your eyes. “This is gonna hurt really – really – bad,” you grimaced. He just stared at you, emotionless, until the rag touched the first wound.
As soon as the liquid came into contact with the broken skin, he let out a horrific, inhuman screech that had you dropping the washcloth to cover your ears. His claws tore ragged holes in the towel as he gripped it, panting and writhing in pain. You couldn’t help but cry too. “I’m so, so sorry,” you continually repeated, abandoning the cloth to lay down next to him. Tears streamed down his face and soaked the towel underneath him, barely even acknowledging the way you wiped them away with trembling fingers.
Despite how much you preferred to just lie with him under the glow of the moon and the melody of the waves, you knew what had to be done. Death was worse than temporary pain – there had to be part of him somewhere that understood that. You hoped it would be better now that he was expecting it.
Slowly sitting back up, you grabbed the rag once more and wrung it out to reduce it to only the minimum amount of antiseptic required, and tried to ignore the way he quivered and shook his head. I’m sorry felt like a shitty spell as you chanted it over and over again, though the screeches became easier to tune out as they rang on. You were surprised his vocal cords didn’t fry.
After what felt like an eternity for both of you, you had finally managed to clean out the wounds and remove some of the dried blood that clung to his skin. The towel was torn to shreds and the veins in his eyes were blown with how much he had been thrashing and sobbing. But the worst of it was over now.
“We’re almost done,” you soothed as you gently applied the triple-antibiotic cream you knew was only meant for minor cuts to the gaping stab wounds. Once they were packed with gauze, you sat back with a huff to survey your handiwork. Sloppy and a bit haphazard but… better than nothing. And having the wounds covered seemed to have helped him calm down a little bit. One last thing crossed your mind though – how could you potentially make the dressings waterproof?
Your eyes flitted over to a slew of seaweed on the shore that reflected the moonlight and figured you might as well try. With some gentle and minorly excruciating maneuvering, you managed to wrap a few thick strands of seaweed around his torso to maybe keep the dressings in place, and protect them from water immediately seeping in.
Falling back onto the towel that was mostly just threads at that point, you sighed. Thoughts of what the fuck am I doing? carved their way into every square inch of your skull. Why am I playing doctor for… whatever he- it is? Why do I care?
The sun began to peak up over the horizon, signaling that it was likely around 5 AM at that point. A groan left your lips as you realized you were going to have to leave soon if you wanted to make it home before Mother awoke, but then remembered you had company. Turning your head, you inspected his body. This was your first time seeing him on land in the approaching daylight.
He only watched you as you observed him. He was… mesmerizing. Flowing from the nape of his neck to both of his wrists, swirls of smoky black pigmentation decorated his skin, while both of his hands and claws were solid black. His – admittedly stunning – face was mostly human-like, save for his slightly larger, glowing violet eyes with slits for pupils. And you had found out he had fangs when he kept hissing in pain. His hair was jet black and flowed just past his shoulders, flecked with salt and sand, that obscured the dark gills on either side of his neck. With only the pitiful light of dawn, you couldn’t make out much of his inky tail, only that it was quite long, and lined with multiple flowing side fins that resembled the fluke.
The waterproof digital watch on your wrist began to beep erratically, making the poor creature jump in fear. Shit. The morning alarm your mother had punched into it.
“I have to leave, I’m so sorry.”
Seemingly starting to recognize the sounds of leave and sorry, his already sad expression wilted even more.
“I’ll be back, okay?” you nodded, enunciating each word clearly. “And you probably need to get back in the water, so you don’t dry out.”
The elongated amount of time outside of the water seemed to have made his tail shrivel slightly, the pointed scales more prominent than they were before. Or maybe that was just the sun rising. Either way, you were at least somewhat certain he needed to be rehydrated.
Standing up on your feet, you dusted off some of the sand that now clung to every inch of you and crossed your arms. The tip of your tongue poked out of your lips slightly as you tried to conjure up a plan of how to get him back in the water. Considering the fact that he wasn’t just pure dead weight anymore, it couldn’t be too bad. But the fresh stab wounds were the main barrier here.
“Alright. We’re getting you back in,” you announced, as if you had some position of authority. He just cocked his head and flared his gills.
With time running out, you decided the best bet was just to use the towel to drag his body the couple of meters back towards the water, and rely on the tide to hopefully aid in easing him back in. It was a deliberate choice to ignore his snarls and light thrashing, clearly not thrilled with the idea.
“Stop fighting me, dumbass,” you grunted. Finally, the tide rose high enough to envelop him, allowing him to indignantly flick his tail at you before swimming away.
The trip back to your house was spent fuming as you wondered why the stupid creature was being so damn ungrateful. As if you hadn’t spent hours saving his life. Whatever. Maybe you could give him a piece of your mind when you went to check up on him later that day. What you didn’t understand was that his unwillingness to allow you to leave stemmed from the fact that he couldn’t quite grasp why you were leaving him. What you were leaving him for. And it hurt. He had always been a loner, even amongst his own kind, and you were the only being to ever show him pure kindness. Why would you leave? And would you ever be back?
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riordanness · 6 months
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pick up lines - [p.jackson]
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1.4K wordcount
warnings: none
requested: no
I hated waking up.
Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.
Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.
I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.
I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.
I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.
I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.
"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."
That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.
"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.
"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.
"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.
"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.
"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."
"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.
And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.
***
Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.
"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?
I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"
The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."
I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.
"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"
Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.
I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.
I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.
I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.
After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.
"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.
"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.
I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"
I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."
I swallowed. "Um..."
Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.
After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.
"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.
"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.
At this point, I was utterly confused.
"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"
"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.
I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.
"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."
I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"
Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”
I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."
"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.
"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."
Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.
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demiamphitere · 2 months
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The Alternative Universe
The Good Omens book drunk Aziraphale and Crowley bookshop scene, but David Tennant plays Aziraphale, and Michael Sheen plays Crowley. Narrated by Rebecca Front (audiobook). The alternative universe we needed. https://youtu.be/5bqwovc00Aw
Scene from: Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch, by Terry Pratchett and @neil-gaiman.
Audio extracted and stiched from:
- The Full Cast Audiobook with David Tennant and Michael Sheen 2021
- David Tennant reading the scene at the Playing in the Dark event 2019
- Part of Michael Sheen reading the scene at the The Town Hall Good Omens event with Neil and Nick Offerman 2019
Thank you to @fuckyeahgoodomens for the compilation.    • The Good Omens drunk Aziraphale and C...  
Thumbnail by @moreofaman_ on Twitter
Transcription:
The table in front of the two of them was covered with bottles. "The point is," said Crowley, "the point is. The point is." He tried to focus on Aziraphale. "The point is," he said, and tried to think of a point. "The point I'm trying to make," he said, brightening, "is the dolphins. That's my point." "Kind of fish," said Aziraphale. "Nononono," said Crowley, shaking a finger. "'S mammal. Your actual mammal. Difference is-" Crowley waded through the swamp of his mind and tried to remember the difference. "Difference is, they-" "Mate out of water?" volunteered Aziraphale. Crowley's brow furrowed. "Don't think so. Pretty sure that's not it. Something about their young. Whatever." He pulled himself together. "The point is. The point is. Their brains." He reached for a bottle. "What about their brains?" said the angel. "Big brains. That's my point. Size of. Size of. Size of damn big brains. And then there's the whales. Brain city, take it from me. Whole damn sea full of brains." "Kraken," said Aziraphale, staring moodily into his glass.
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gothbitez · 1 year
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well, two can play that game ; ellie williams
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pairing: college!ellie willams x afab!reader
chapter: one-shot (4.6k words)
warnings: 18+ content, minors do not interact!! dom!ellie x femme!reader, poc friendly, sexual content, angst, past relationship, jealousy, abby x reader (briefly for plot tension), reader and ellie are toxic petty, semi-public sex, hatesex if u squint but they love each other so idk angry sex is more accurate.
summary: you and ellie hadn't spoken since you broke up a few months ago and suddenly she shows up to this party with another girl on her arm.
inspired by heartbeat by childish gambino
author's note: soo linger got so much more love than I expected I love u guys wish I could respond to comments or follow y'all back but this isn't my main acc rip, just know that I'm lurking and appreciate all the reblogs and love <3
:::
Disclaimer: I do not support the genocide of the indigenous Palestinian people, and neither should you, please don’t buy the new Remastered or continue giving any more money to Druckmann. Educate yourself, learn the history, it is vital. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free 🇵🇸
**
The music was booming, noise reverberated through the walls of the home belonging to whichever current popular kid was hosting this weeks Friday party.
You had been in a bit of a rut recently, not really taking time out of your schedule to have fun and live like you should be living, Dina was aware of that. So today, she had forced convinced you to come to some sports-heads party.
"Come on, get dressed" She had said, with a smug smile as you lifted yourself off the bed and into your bathroom to get ready. You had worn a silky, long black skirt. It reached the ends of your shins with a long slit that exposed your leg all the way up to your thigh. On top, you wore a simple tee, with a long strip of thick eyeliner along your skin.
And here you were. Sighing to yourself as you watched the typical acts of debauchery unfold amongst your peers. A bottle of alcohol was soon in your line of sight, Dina holding it up to you after just having taken a swig herself. "Here, looks like you need it."
You grabbed the clear bottle and drank, grimacing at the harsh taste that was developing in your mouth. You, Dina and Jesse had settled on sitting in-front of the couch on the floor, you tended to be a floor sitter; being crosslegged was quite comfortable.
In that moment, the front door of the owner's house swung open, and you felt your heart drop. In walks Ellie Williams, your ex-girlfriend, with another girl clutching on to her arm. You watched as the duo did their rounds, greeting the people they knew and joking briefly. Ellie looked around the living room, looking for a place to base, her green eyes landed on where you, Dina and Jesse were sat before making her way over, causing you to sigh.
That was possibly the last thing you had wanted, to be in an environment with your ex and her new conquest. You and Ellie had broken up a few months ago, not through lack of love, and definitely not due to bad sex. Quite the opposite. Ellie had a habit of self-sabotage, you'd get close to her and then one day she'd freeze and want to cut off all connection. She was a ghost, you knew this. That's why you broke up in the first place. It had been a painful wound which had still not healed over.
Technically, you had no say. There was nothing you could say about her sitting with you guys, Dina was Ellie's friend as much as she was yours, and despite the painful breakup, you wouldn't force her to pick sides. It would've been nice to know in advance that Ellie was going to come, though. At least then you could've prepared for the pang in your chest as the girl interlocked her fingers onto Ellie's as they sat. Dina threw you a sympathetic look, as if to say, 'I didn't know she was gonna be here..'
You took another swig of the alcohol as conversations between Ellie and the group started, knowing you couldn't avoid her any longer. You hadn't spoken to each other since she left, there were so many things left unsaid. Focusing on the music, you nodded your head along to the beat of the song that was playing over the speakers, your eyes glancing at the crowd dancing in the middle of the living room, observing.
You suddenly got the sense that you were being watched, your eyes flickered away from the crowd and into the green eyes that were staring you down from across the group. Ellie looked at you with no expression, her hand resting on the unknown girl's thigh. She caught your eyes look down towards her hand and glanced back up to you. What was she trying to achieve here? Make you feel worse?
You broke the eye contact, preferring to get up off the floor and making your way into the kitchen to head out into the host's backyard. You heard Dina ask where you were going but you hadn't registered her voice in time to reply.
Your body was met with cold temperatures as soon as you passed through the backdoor, you mentally groaned as your jacket was not warm enough to keep you warm. Glancing around, you took note of where groups of people were sat talking to each other, you just needed a moment to yourself. You gravitated towards the quietest spot in the backyard, liking how there wasn't much activity and sat yourself down, perched with your chest resting on your legs.
Grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket, you singled one out from the deck and brought it up your lips. With the cigarette secure against your lips, you reached down, searching for a lighter, your head facing the floor, before you heard the familiar flick of flint come from above you.
Looking up, you were met with the last person you had wanted to see in your time out. "How long are you going to pretend I don't exist?" she spoke, the first thing either of you had said to each other in months. Her arm was still holding the lit lighter, looking at you, waiting for you to light the cigarette.
Knowing how stubborn she is, you knew you had no choice but to bring your face closer to the lighter, meeting the flame and sparking the tobacco. "You're definitely not the one who should be asking that question." You muttered, inhaling the smoke.
"Look, what do you want me to say?" Ellie sighed, placing herself next to you before lighting her own cigarette. She was wearing her favourite grey hoodie, it was so worn you could see small tears in the sleeves. "Honestly, nothing right now, why don't you go back to the girl you brought with you? I'm sure she's missing your presence."
"She doesn't smoke, and I wanted one." "Well, you didn't have to sit here," you knew you were being harsh, but what else were you meant to do with the built-up hurt? If you took away the anger, what would you have left? Ellie sighed beside you, "We haven't spoken in months.." "And whose fault is that, Ellie?" You were looking at her now, eyes boring into hers.
"I know I shouldn't have left," she took a drag, exhaling as she spoke, "I wa-," Cutting her off, you spoke. "You were what? You didn't just leave, Ellie, you completely blindsided me. You think something's going well with someone and then they disappear. No explanation, no message, nothing!"
Hearing your words, her heart fell. She knew she had hurt you that day, but she felt scared. You were right, something was going well, so well that Ellie was scared she'd get hurt first. So she decided to end it before giving you the chance. "I didn't mean to hurt you," "Yeah? Too bad," you scoffed, "Cos you did." Finishing your cigarette, you stumped it out on the floor, forcing yourself up to your feet to go back to the living room. A hand stopped you, wrapping itself around your forearm preventing you from walking further. With a sigh, you turned to face her.
"You don't have to run away from me," Ellie said, voice low. Shivers travelled down your spine, as her eyes glanced to your lips, "I'm not contagious." "I don't want anything to do with you." You whispered, fighting every urge you had to just kiss her and make up. If you stayed here a minute longer, you knew you would cave to her. Despite how badly she had hurt you, you couldn't forget the way she made you feel. Knowing you still loved her, still felt the burning desire to kiss her.
Your thoughts focused on to the girl that had come with her tonight, your brows furrowed as anger washed over you. Ripping your arm out from her grip, you turned away and walked back inside to the party.
A week had passed, you were making your way to Dina's kitchen as you helped her set up the decorations, food and drink ready for her birthday party.
You had gotten completely dolled up, at least to your standards, wearing a band tee underneath a long, dark satin dress with your signature eyeliner. After all, it was Dina's birthday, you had to look nice. Besides, you were in hopes of getting some action tonight, knowing Dina had invited some girls from her class and you hadn't had any action since Ellie. It had been a... long time.
Ellie was helping at Dina's, too. Since your last conversation, things hadn't gotten better. Your hurt had somehow, shifted into snark, bickering with Ellie anytime you'd be in the same vicinity, which happened often.
Snark, petty comments and arguing. That's all Dina had heard between you and Ellie, at one point she thought you were about to kill each other. Dina had asked you about some guy that had approached you earlier on in the day. He had walked up to you with the utmost confidence that his flirting would be successful. You almost felt bad for him, the way his smile dropped when you told him you were a lesbian. Dina thought the story was hilarious and had asked you about it, upon hearing this, against her better judgement Ellie had made a comment about it which resulted in a heated argument between the two of you and Dina suddenly regretting her decision to bring it up. It had gotten so riled up that when Ellie stormed out of the room, she slammed the door so hard that it left visible cracks on the wall and the plant pot on the window beside it smashed into pieces.
"Okay, so... the bottles can go on this table and the food goes to that one with the bowls." Dina instructed, motioning you to put down the items you were carrying. Ellie had stayed in the living room moving the furniture around the room so that people could have more space to move, so Dina took her chance to talk to you.
"So, um.. you and Ellie haven't been doing so hot," she spoke, looking at you with a worried expression. "Well observed, Dina." "Hey, don't take your frustrations out on me, I'm an innocent bystander watching as world war three breaks out." She joked, lightly. "Sorry, it's just, I don't know what's changed but every time I look at her I just get so angry."
"I didn't say it wasn't justified, just worried about you guys, I'm friends with both of you and it's not nice seeing you two like this," Dina's hand went to rest on her hip as she spoke, emphasised her point, she sighed before continuing, "At least try and get laid tonight, fresh blood might make you less angry." She joked.
"Dina!" You groaned, before turning away from her and returning to the living room where people were beginning to show up.
A few hours go by and the party is in full swing, it wasn't crowded like last week's but more of a gathering, which you could handle. You had a few drinks, were nowhere near as drunk as some people, but you were at a nice level. You had spent an amount of the night away from your friends, after being introduced by Dina to this girl, Abby, one of the gays Dina had invited in hopes she could wingman you a date.
It was nice. Abby was incredibly attractive, she had long blonde hair and her arms were unlike anyone you had ever met. So muscular and big, you had a thing for slightly more masculine women, that's what got you in this mess with Ellie in the first place. Though, Abby and Ellie were complete opposites and if memory served correctly, you were pretty sure you remembered Ellie saying there was a girl in her class that she hated of the same name. Said girl had been involved in an altercation with Ellie, you honestly didn't remember why. You wondered if they were the same person.
Abby had completely distracted you from your worries with Ellie, revelling in the straight-forward way she would flirt with you and touch your thigh. It was nice to feel wanted.
Someone wasn't impressed, though. Ellie had been a sour mood all day because Cat had refused to come to the party with her, claiming that Ellie still had feelings for you and that's why she always cared enough to pick fights with you. Ellie denied this causing Cat to immediately break up with her on the spot. You had been on her mind today more than she cared to admit, and seeing you flirt with someone she absolutely despised, watching as Abby placed her hand on your exposed thigh, simply put, it pissed her off.
Dina watched Ellie carefully, not uttering a word when she saw her rolling her eyes at you both. "Can you believe that shit?" Ellie said, pointing at you from across the room. "Of all people, why is she entertaining that asshole?" "Ellie-," Dina was interrupted, "Laughing like her jokes are funny, she's the most boring person I've ever met," "Do-," "Who does she think she is?" "Ellie!" Dina shouted, "If you're that bothered, stop staring."
"I'm not staring.. they're just fucking gross." Ellie sighed, taking a swig of her beer. "You're staring. Go take a walk or something," Groaning, Ellie got up deciding to to the bathroom. Not that she needed it, she just couldn't bear the sight of you two any longer.
She stepped her way up the stairs, music and alcohol causing her to suddenly realise she was a bit more waved than she originally thought, either that or she got up too fast.
Stepping into the bathroom, she rested her hands on either side of the sink, looking at herself in the mirror. She could still feel the anger burn through her chest, igniting further as she remembered the ease with which Abby placed her hands on your thighs and the way you allowed it. Deep down she knew she had no right to be jealous, it was her fault after all. Yet, she cursed to herself as she thought back to the past weeks.
Cat had been right, of course. Ellie was in no way over her feelings for you, they never even left. She was just scared and jumped ship, and now this arguing and pettiness had only been an excuse so that you could have a way of talking to each other. Ellie's thought process was interrupted by someone knocking on the door and she knew her little breather was over and she'd have to face the world again.
Sighing, Ellie lifted herself off the sink and opened the bathroom door, not expecting you to have been the person who was knocking. "Oh, sorry I didn't know you were in there," you stated, your long eyeliner standing out in the dim light of corridor. Ellie had always loved when you wore that.
"It's alright, actually, I kinda wanted to talk to you," You quirked an eyebrow up at Ellie's words, "What did you wanna talk about?" "You should stay away from her, Abby, I mean. She's not a good person," Ellie quipped, the alcohol making her lips a lot looser than they would be if she was stone sober.
"Oh?" your features turned sour, "And who are you to tell me to stay away from her?" "I just wanted to let you know, no need to be a dick about it." "What makes you think I care about your opinions on my love life? You have no right." You were stepping up closer to her, frustration all over your features. "I heard you and Dina talking earlier, if you're gonna sleep with someone out of desperation at least pick someone better." Ellie squinted, her anger levels quickly rising as your voice raised, that seemed to piss you off even more. How dare she?
"If I want to fuck Abby, I will," you paused, noticing the way Ellie's chest was quickly rising as she took deep breaths, "It's none of your business." You voice lowered, Ellie's top lip sneering as she listened to you continue.
"She's nice, she's hot and have you seen her arms? I'm gonna sleep with her and there's nothing you can do to stop that." You whispered, knowing you were playing with fire but you couldn't stop yourself. Were you doing it on purpose? You weren't sure. You saw something in Ellie's eyes snap as soon as the words left your lips.
Within moments, your arm had been grabbed and you were being pulled into the bathroom. Ellie slammed the bathroom door shut and pushed you against it, the back of your head hitting the wood. "You sure about that?" Ellie muttered, she was seething, "I can think of many things I can do to stop that from happening." There was a snarl in her voice, a gruff raspiness that spurred you on.
"What was it specifically that pissed you off?" You teased, "The fact that it was her or the fact that it wasn't you?"
Ellie's hands trailed down to the back of your thighs, the only barrier being your long dress, with a firm grip she squeezed, causing a sigh to escape your lips. Truthfully, your comment about Abby's arms had touched a nerve, and Ellie found herself wanting to prove that she was just as strong as that meathead that was flirting with you. "Brave words for someone who threw a hissy fit the other day because she saw me with Cat."
You brought your hands from your sides to the back of Ellie's neck, silently wrapping your arm around her shoulders, Ellie's grip still tight on your thighs. Her face nearing your neck, "It's funny," Ellie whispered, before placing kisses on the space behind your ear, "You talk all this game about letting her fuck you, but darling, I'm the best that you've had, face it."
Her hands travelled up your legs, before landing at the curve of your behind, you swallowed a gasp, feeling her tease you through your dress, not wanting her to know the power she had over you in this moment. You were embarrassed at your own silence, not knowing how to reply to her words.
"Abby could do a better job," As soon as you said it, you regretted it. Ellie was certainly not impressed, hands clutching at your dress as she slowly lifted up the fabric, exposing your legs to her. "Oh yeah?" her gaze flickered down to your lips, "You want me to call her up here and show her how much you can't stand me?"
You stayed silent, her words spurring you on more that you expected, "Cos I can do that."
The distance between your lips had closed, Ellie pressing softly against yours as the music thumped in the background. Her hand travelled up from your thighs, caressing your sides as she reached the back of your head. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, deciding to press into the kiss and wrap your arms around Ellie's neck. You could feel her smirking into the kiss as her fingers tightened around your hair, evoking a sigh out from your lips.
"You always did like when I did that," Ellie basked in the memories of your past relations, something she regretted losing. You two just always seemed to understand each other at that level, your bodies working together, she knew exactly what you liked and you knew exactly what she liked. It just worked.
It was no different this time around, just with a little added bitterness. All the tension from the arguing, the snide remarks and jealousy over the past few months seemed to have been leading to this exact moment. A cathartic release of pressure that had been building up.
"Shut up, Williams."
She chuckled as her lips went down your neck, kissing down to your collarbone as she sucked, intentionally leaving a lovely purple symbol marked on your skin. A symbol that you were hers, and she was going to let everyone else see it. Let Abby try and flirt with you now. Your chest heaved up and down, anticipating the gentle touch of her hand lifting your skirt, exposing your legs more than they already were. You felt a tightness at your core, even amidst your anger towards her, you still reacted in this way.
"You're so soft, for a girl so frigid." she muttered into your neck, kneading the skin of your thighs, her hand was so close to where you wanted her. "You're an asshole," You breathed out, back arching into the door, pressing you closer into it as Ellie moved her body closer to yours. "Oh yeah?" she paused, "Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" Her hand trailed closer to your centre, fingers skimming over your underwear, her raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.
"Because I'm such an asshole?" Her words dripped like honey, and suddenly you were melting. "Fuck," you sighed, your head falling down to her shoulders for support, suddenly feeling out of breath as her fingers teased around your most sensitive spot. "What was that, pretty girl?" her finger clutched on to the cotton fabric and slid underneath it, sliding the cloth to the side as she teased her finger through your dampened folds.
"Fuck, Ellie.." you gasped, your hips jutting towards her hand, a futile attempt to relieve some of the tension between your legs as Ellie retracted her finger from you. "No, no, pretty girl, that isn't how this works," You groaned, hearing distant chatter in the corridor outside of the bathroom as you were suddenly reminded of the outside world. "Ellie, please," you whispered, conscious that you would be heard by the partygoers. "Please, what?" She hummed, enjoying dragging this out, it was all a power play to her. You knew that, but you thrived off it just as much as Ellie did.
"Please," you rocked your hips into her hand again, "Need you to fuck me, Els." Upon hearing you, she restarted her movements, skimming your folds with her fingers once again, your mouth was agape, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling of her fingers against your clit. "That's a good girl," she smirked as she watched you, her scarred eyebrow flicking upwards, her eyes full of mirth. Your hand reached towards the back of her head, grabbing on to the elastic that held her bun in place as you pulled, tugging her head backwards slightly as some strands of her auburn hair fell out of place, looking almost as disheveled as you felt.
Spurred on by your actions, Ellie had decided to insert two of her fingers into you, emitting a wanton gasp to fall from your open lips. You clenched around the intrusion, feeling as her fingers sloppily dipped in and out of your soaked core, filthy sounds bouncing around the room. You bit back moans as Ellie buried her slender fingers deep into your folds, groaning at the indecent sounds of your slick against her digits.
"Fuck," you accidentally moaned, and a lot louder than either of you had expected, causing Ellie to let go of her grip of her fingers on the back of your head and into your open mouth. Taking the hint, you sucked on her fingers, drool slipping out from between your lips as she fucked your mouth. Suppressing your moans, your eyes rolled shut as Ellie slid another finger into your centre, relishing at the sight of you. Fingers stuffed in your mouth with one hand, fingers glistening with your slick as she rocked in and out of you with the other. Your flawless eyeliner now smudged and smeared all over your eyes, with a single stream cleared from a tear that had fallen from your eyes at the pleasure you were feeling. You were a sight she wanted to keep in her memory for the rest of her life.
"You're so fucking hot, babygirl, but you gotta stay quiet for me," The pads of her fingers met with the walls of your core, hitting you at a deeper angle than before. How the fuck were you meant to stay quiet like this? Was she doing this on purpose?
"Unless you want everyone here to know how good I'm fucking you," Her words were inching you closer, when you suddenly felt her fingers retract from your mouth and her body dipping down, kneeling in front of you. Her antsy hands fumbled over the fabric that was still tight against your hips, ripping them down so she could have complete access to you.
"You look so good when you're being fucked, pretty girl." You felt her head reach closer towards your centre, you breathed in a sigh as her hand grabbed hold of your leg and placed it over her shoulder. Her tongue licked gentle stripes up your folds, as she continued her movements with her hands, fucking into you as she licked your cunt like she was starved.
"You taste so good, baby," she breathed out, "Ellie- fuck.." you moaned, not trusting yourself to keep quiet as you covered your face and mouth with your arms. Ellie looked up at you, watching your face contort with the pleasure she was giving you, holding your arms against your face to keep yourself quiet. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, Ellie seemingly knowing exactly what to say to bring you closer and closer.
"Wanna tell me again how you're going to go fuck Abby?" she paused, fingers still in a consistent, deep motion inside you, "Because it seems like you've changed your mind, angel." You were never going to go and actually fuck this girl, you had just said that to rile her up, Ellie knew this, yet she couldn't hold her tongue from saying these things to you.
"Ellie, shit," you gasped, "I don't want anyone else," Your hand moved down to her disheveled hair, forcing her head closer to you as you rocked your hips into her face, pure desperation. "I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, don't forget that," And she was right. Within seconds of her reconnecting her tongue to your centre, fingers still pushing into you, you felt all control of your body leave you. Shaking and writhing on her face as she brought you closer to your peak, your juices sliding down Ellie's chin.
Moaning and gasping, you dragged her face up to yours, capturing her lips in an ardent kiss as you could taste yourself on her lips. You felt her fingers slowly slide out you and let out a final moan. Your hands started to trail down Ellie's sides, grasping at her clothes in an attempt to take them off her.
"No, no, baby. None of that, I'm going to leave you right here," she chuckled, feeling your desperation, "You know where I'll be, when you're tired of flirting with strangers, give me a call."
And she left you, in your fucked out haze, all delirious and dazed, in the bathroom of Dina's party.
——
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hazellvsq · 7 months
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hazel drawing her friends
she doesn't draw leo's face bc she's drawn that same face before and its very weird for her but she'll draw faraway shots of him steering the ship like an 18th century sea captain
she drew festus too, asleep but still frightening
piper's self conscious about being drawn but hazel loves her and loves how she looks and spends a lot of time trying to capture what makes piper so magnetic
she herself is kind of self conscious about drawing reyna or annabeth but she draws them in each other's clothes - reyna in jorts, annabeth in a toga and cape - and they both think its funny as hell
hazel draws reyna's dogs too. they pose for her and everything.
obviously arion is her top model
she draws frank all the time and it makes him blush. she'll draw frank drinking juice and caption it "frank drinking juice"
she drew frank in a world war one uniform for childhood crush reasons but felt like something was missing so she drew him in a plane that was about to crash and ended up getting super invested in the plane detail so its a very dramatic drawing. frank was like "uuhhh why am i getting shot down?" and she was like "clearly you don't understand art???"
she draws nico and gives him better hair bc she's nice
she also gives him a cool vintage car in some pictures. or a vespa.
she won't do a self-portrait
she draws percy destroying the glacier, like if the son of neptune cover was drawn by a non-professional artist.
she had one drawing of jason based on the day that she met him at camp jupiter. it was not a good day for her bc she was newly resurrected and very scared. it is a very good technical drawing of jason, and he looks powerful and strong, but he has intense eyes with no expression behind them and there is a very unnerving feeling to the drawing itself.
to piper and leo it reminds them a little of when jason had amnesia, but this is a drawing of him before that, which is not quite accurate to how hazel perceived him or to how he really was. its probably hazel's best work but it makes her and everyone a little uncomfortable.
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beskarandblasters · 10 months
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Wherever You Stray, I Follow
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Inspired by Willow by Taylor Swift
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Summary: You’re the daughter of a senator on Coruscant and you’ve been set up in an arranged marriage to another senator’s son for both your father and his father’s political gain. Your father hires Din Djarin to transport you to Naboo where you’re supposed to meet your fiancé’s family and prepare for the wedding. On the trip to Naboo you form a relationship together in secret but after you arrive on Naboo he’s hired to be your bodyguard up until the wedding. But will you actually go though with the wedding? That’s for you and Din to decide.
Word count: 10k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, no Grogu, Din still has the Razor Crest, arranged marriage, your family sucks, your fiancé is a dick, infidelity, fingering, vaginal sex, cockwarming, creampie, semi public sex? (idk they do it on a balcony), canon typical violence, helmetless Din, use of Mando'a words/phrases (translations included immediately after), also a "made up" Mando'a phrase (alor'ika = princess, I took alor which is ruler and added the suffix, ika), pretty sure the travel times used are not accurate but fuck it we ball LMAO, no use of y/n
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“I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night
Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife
And if it was an open-shut case
I never would've known from that look on your face
Lost in your current like a priceless wine”
You gaze down at the sea of speeders beneath you as you stand on your balcony on Coruscant. The industrialized planet is a far cry from your home, Savareen. You never thought in your wildest dreams you would miss the deserts and the oceans of your home planet but now that you moved to Coruscant you’re missing it now more than ever. Your father decided he wanted a career in politics so he moved your family to Coruscant. You definitely could live on your own back home but your father wanted everyone together for his “political image” or whatever. 
You hear your father calling your name behind you so you look over your shoulder to find him and an unknown man standing across the room. 
“I want to introduce you to Senator Lokato,” he says. 
You turn to walk over to them, and notice that Senator Lokato is wearing the typical senator “uniform”; dark colored robes that go all the way down to the floor. Senator Lokato’s are a dark gray and your father’s are navy blue. It’s weird seeing your father trying to fit in with these types of people. 
“Hello. Nice to meet you,” you say awkwardly, not really understanding what your business was with him.
“I know you’ve been struggling to make friends and meet others your age here so we thought you’d like to meet his son.”
“...Okay,” you say hesitantly, following them down the hallway and into your parent’s living room. 
There’s a man sitting on the couch who you can only assume is Senator Lokato’s son. He’s about your age, maybe a few years older. He rises when he sees you and walks to meet you in the middle of the room. 
“I’m Valsi. Pleased to meet a lovely lady like yourself,” he says, giving you a suggestive smirk. 
Maybe you would be flattered by his forward nature if he weren’t so… plain looking. He’s a little taller than you, a tad muscular and just so… plain. He’s got the kind of eyes that are just soulless and he bares a striking resemblance to his father. 
“Nice to meet you, too,” you offer politely. 
“Well, we’ll let you two get to know each other,” Senator Lokato says, clapping his hands together.
“Yes, have fun you two!” your father says a bit too cheerily before leaving with Lokato.
“Please, sit,” Valsi says… in your own home. 
You sit on the couch, keeping your body language tight and uninviting. The more you see of this guy the more you realize you’re not gonna want anything to do with him.
“I’m not sure what your father has told you but I have family on Naboo. We could raise the children there, of course. We can bring them to visit Savareen, too. But… a more civilized place like Naboo is better. And Coruscant is too busy for small children. Maybe we could relocate here when they’re older? But-”
“Excuse me?” you ask. You were zoning out at the sound of his monotone voice until he started mentioning children. 
“Well of course we’re going to have children?” he says, in a tone that makes it sound like you’re the stupid one.
“Of course we’re going to have children? We don’t know each other. I literally just met you today,” you snap back. 
“Oh, I see. Your father didn’t tell you. We’re getting married.”
“You’re funny if you think I’m getting married to you,” you laugh.
“You can laugh all you want but our fathers already made a deal. We get married in a month,” he says, folding his arms.
The realization is settling in. Your father was trying to get you to “make friends” alright. He’s trying to sell you off to some man for his own political game. You should’ve seen this coming. Ever since your father has become a member of the Senate he’s been obsessed with perfecting his image and gaining more public approval.
“You might be okay being a puppet for your father but I’m certainly not,” you snap, getting up and storming over to the door. 
As you enter the hallway you see your father and Lokato who were clearly listening in on your interaction. You scoff at them both and stomp off your bedroom.
“She’ll come around,” you hear your father say softly before closing the sliding door behind you. 
You fall into your bed and start crying; the weight of everything hitting you all at once. Between being forced to leave your home planet, moving to a strange new place and now all of a sudden being shoved into an arranged marriage you’re feeling completely hopeless. 
Eventually you drift off to sleep, your own tears aiding you in the process. Your dreams are filled with your home planet and of travels all on your own, with no one forcing you to go anywhere or do anything. It almost feels too real because when you wake up you forget the horrors of reality for a moment. 
You get changed into a silky pale blue dress before returning to the living room. That was another thing about your father’s new found political life; your wardrobe was completely different. Gone were the days of flowy pants, boots and earth tones. Now your wardrobe consists of extravagant gowns, robes and jewelry. It’s all very beautiful and maybe just maybe you could enjoy your new look if it wasn’t being forced upon you. 
You find your father sitting on the couch, reading something on his holo-pad. When he notices your presence he looks up and shoots you a faux sympathetic glance. You sit on the opposite end of the couch silently, not even knowing what to say to the man who’s trying to strip you of your bodily autonomy. 
“I’m sorry, my dear. I just think this is what’s best for us. The Lokatos are very well off. You’ll be set for life,” he says, setting the holo-pad down on the table in front of him.
“You’re forcing me to marry someone I don’t know… let alone even love! I really don’t care how rich they are,” you say, folding your arms. 
“It’s for the best. Especially if you want to maintain this new lifestyle that you’ve become accustomed to.”
“You mean the one that you forced upon us? If I were up to me I would be home right now,” you fight back.
He sighs, not looking to listen to any more of your protests. 
“Look, Valsi left today to go visit his family on Naboo. After he gets some business sorted there you’re going to meet him. You’ll be leaving tomorrow. I’ve hired someone to take you there, some Mandalorian. You leave tomorrow.”
You scoff and get up, retreating to your room where you go to bed again, wallowing in your own sadness until you decide to pack for the next day. Your parents call you for dinner but you decline, not wanting to see them but also too upset to eat. You go to bed that night and have a dream that this Mandalorian takes you anywhere else but Naboo. It’s a shame really. You’ve heard how beautiful Naboo is and under any other circumstances you’d be jumping at the chance to go. But when you’re going under the pretense of meeting your arranged husband and his family, you can think of a million other places you’d rather be. 
You wake up the next morning and get ready for your journey, the nerves brewing in your stomach. You meet your father in the living room again without saying a word to him. He sends for a servant to collect your bag before leading you to the docking bay. You don’t say a word to him the whole way there. He makes attempts at small talk, telling you how much you’re going to love Naboo and how you’re going to have such a good time. But you can’t be bothered to entertain him. 
You reach the docking bay and in front of you is a large ship; a Razor Crest your father tells you. The exit ramp opens and that’s when you see him walking towards you; a Mandalorian in full beskar, silver and shiny. He has a sort of confidence about him when he walks that commands the attention of anyone nearby. 
“Mando!” your father says happily as he stops in front of the both of you, “Thanks for agreeing to do this.”
“Half the credits, the other half after the job is done, right?” he says, making no time for pleasantries. His modulated voice scratches an itch in your brain you didn’t know was there. 
“O-of course,” your father stutters, pulling out a small bag from his robes. 
The Mandalorian takes it and nods with a slight tip of his helmet. 
“Let’s go,” he says curtly, turning and walking back towards the Razor Crest. 
He seems… unpleasant. And you’re going to have to spend several days with him alone holed up in this ship. Great. 
Your father goes for a hug but you rebuff him, walking to the ship without looking back. The servant follows with your bags and drops them off before leaving. The Mandalorian closes the exit ramp and retreats to the cockpit without saying a word. You follow him and sit in the passenger seat. You watch him prepare the ship for takeoff while he doesn’t say a single word to you. So offer some conversation.
“So… Do you always do stuff like this?” you ask.
“Stuff like what?” he replies, not looking at you.
“Transporting people around.”
“No. I’m a bounty hunter.”
“Really? How’d you get roped into this?”
“Credits,” he says plainly.
“Hope that it was worth it…” you grumble under your breath.
He turns his seat around and the T-shaped visor practically burns a hole into you. You can’t see his face but you can feel his stone cold gaze and it sends shivers through you.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You’re taken aback. Is he actually offended by your snide little comment?
“You’re bringing me to Naboo to meet my soon-to-be husband. The whole thing is a forced, arranged marriage. Did you know that?” you say defensively, folding your arms across your chest.
“No, I don’t ask questions like that. All I need to know is that I’m bringing a princess to Naboo and how much I’ll be paid.”
“I’m not a princess,” you scoff.
“Whatever you say, princess,” he says, turning to face the control panel again.
You let out an exasperated sigh and he finishes preparing the ship for takeoff. He straps himself in and asks if you’re strapped in, too. 
“You buckled up, princess?” 
“Yup.”
He takes off and you look at Coruscant below as you leave, pretending you’re going anywhere you want and not with some grumpy Mandalorian. 
Once you’ve left the atmosphere you ask, “So how long is it going to be until we get to Naboo?”
“About seven standard days,” he says nonchalantly.
Great. Seven days of being holed up in this cramped ship with him. 
He makes the jump to lightspeed and you’re enveloped in a cool blue glow.
“You can unbuckle now. I’ve set an auto pilot course for Naboo. We shouldn’t need to stop for fuel if all goes well.”
Pretty much as soon as he said the word “unbuckle” you were leaving the cockpit to go stretch your legs. You only half listened to the rest of what he’s saying. To be honest, you don’t really care for him. 
You pace up and down the storage area of the Crest for what feels like forever, wondering what kinds of weapons and gadgets he has stowed away in there. You sit on some crates and mess around on your holo-pad for a while. It’s really fucking boring and Mando isn’t one for small talk. 
He keeps to himself mostly, periodically checking in on you as you keep yourself entertained. He doesn’t really have an opinion on you just yet. He assumes you think he doesn’t like you but that’s just how he is with everyone; a little standoffish. He watches you as you pace the storage area and tries to ignore the way your hips sway when you walk; or the way your brows furrow when you read something on your holo-pad. You’re just so… cute to him, in your pretty dress that hugs your figure perfectly. In all honesty, he feels bad for you, too. Once he learned you were set to be in an arranged marriage his apathy towards you started shifting into something else. 
Eventually it’s the end of the first day cycle and he realizes you should probably get to bed soon. He sits beside you on a crate you’re reading your holo-pad on and says gently, “You need to sleep.”
He half expected a snarky response or some form of protest from you but you just yawn and let out a soft, “Okay.”
He leads you to the cot across the room in a little cubby. 
“It’s a little small but it should be alright for you,” he says.
“What about you? Where are you going to sleep?” you ask. 
His chest gets tight over your concern for him. 
“Don’t worry about me.”
“But where are you going to sleep?” you ask, not letting it go.
“...The floor? Or maybe in one of the seats in the cockpit,” he says reluctantly. 
“That’s ridiculous. Just sleep in here with me.”
His mind is spinning at the thought of sleeping on the cot with you. But he also wants to respect your personal space. You’re engaged to someone else whether it’s arranged or not.
As if you could read his mind you say, “We’re both adults here. I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t comfortable with it.”
“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. 
You excuse yourself to the refresher to change into your pajamas; a soft oversized shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. He removes his armor and weapons in the meantime, leaving only his flight suit and his helmet on. You crawl into the cot with him and it’s a tight squeeze. You figure out the most comfortable position is him spooning you, his large arm draped over your side. You get a glimpse of his gloveless hand and make a mental note of his skin tone; the only indication you have of what he looks like underneath all the beskar. It’s large and calloused, most likely from years of working with his hands. 
“So… Do you ever take the helmet off?” you ask. 
“Only when I’m alone.”
“So if I wasn’t here right now, you could take it off,” you say, feeling guilty. 
He doesn’t say anything. If he answers with a yes you’re just going to feel bad. And it isn’t your fault. He chose to follow the creed. 
“I should sleep somewhere else. Just so you can take that thing off and have a chance to really breathe,” you say, starting to get up.
His arm around you tightens. He doesn’t want you to leave. It’s nice having someone else to lay with; to sleep with, regardless of the fact you’re engaged to someone else. 
“Shh, it’s okay,” he says softly, “I’m used to it.”
“...Are you sure?”
“Yes, mesh’la. Go to sleep.”
Mesh’la? What does that mean? You feel sleep overtaking you so you decide to ask in the morning. You drift off to sleep with the sounds of his modulated breathing soothing you.
He wakes up before you and admires how peaceful you look, eyes closed and lashes fanned out against your face. He could stay there for a while, taking in all of your beauty but he needs to get up and check on the autopilot. He gets out of the cot; careful to not disturb you. He replaces his armor and his weapons before retreating to the cockpit. He checks to make sure the Crest is still on course and tries to ignore the excitement brewing in his stomach.
You wake up in the morning and he’s gone. You’re shocked for a moment but then you remember he’s probably just in the cockpit. You get up and stretch before going to meet him in the cockpit. The blue light whizzing by around you makes it feel like it’s not morning; like no time has passed. You sit in one of the passenger seats, not saying a word to him. 
“How did you sleep?” he asks softly. 
“Good… How did you sleep?”
“Good,” he says awkwardly. 
“Okay well… I think I’m gonna use the refresher?” you say, more so in an asking tone. 
“Go right ahead,” he says, turning his seat to face you. 
You catch a glimpse of your reflection in his helmet and notice your bedhead. Feeling embarrassed you retreat to the refresher and spend a while in there, letting the warm water soothe you. You change into a new dress when you’re done, this one lower cut than the one from yesterday. You step out of the refresher and back into the storage area, almost bumping right into him. 
“Oh, sorry,” you apologize. 
But he doesn’t say a word, admiring your beauty once again; fresh faced with wet hair… and of course the hint of cleavage peeking out from your dress. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? you wonder, Did I do something to upset him?
“Y-you should eat,” he says, tripping on his words ever so slightly.
“Okay…You should, too.”
“Okay,” he says, turning to grab some rations for both of you.
“We just have to eat separately,” he says.
“Of course! Where do you want me?”
Against me, under me, he thinks to himself.
“You stay out here. I’ll go on the cot and shut the door,” he says.
You nod and he hands you your ration before going into the cubby and closing the door. You sit on the floor and lean back against it, wanting to feel close to him for some strange reason… And then you realize your own apathy towards him is melting away and changing into something else, too. But you can’t put your finger on what.
He sits on his cot and removes his helmet. You can hear the hiss of the modulator through the door and your mind races with ideas of what he looks like. 
“I’m against the door… I just wanted it to feel like we were eating together.”
His heart flutters. “That’s okay, mesh’la,” he says, using the nickname subconsciously. 
“No more princess, huh?” you tease, but also listen carefully to his helmetless, unmodulated voice. 
He almost chokes on his food at your boldness. “Well uh, you said you weren’t a princess…”
“That’s right. I’m not. But what does mesh’la mean?”
He has two options. He could tell you the truth… or he could lie. What are the chances of you meeting another Mandalorian anyway? But he doesn’t want to lie to you of all people. You deserve someone who’s honest and good to you.
“It’s… Mando’a for beautiful,” he says, wincing at your response. At least, you can’t see how flustered he’s getting. 
“Oh… thank you, Mando,” you respond. That’s the first time you’ve used any sort of nickname to address him. And he takes note of that.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” he asks.
“No! Not at all. You’re very sweet.”
He relaxes a bit and you two talk while you eat, getting to know each other a bit more. You could sit and listen to his unmodulated voice tell you stories for hours. But eventually you’re both done eating and you hear him get up. You stand up, too and hear the hiss of the modulator once again. He opens the door and you both stare at each other for a moment, both surprised at your connection and concern for one another. He goes back up to the cockpit and sits in the pilot seat. You grab your holo-pad and follow him, sitting in one of the passenger seats in silence. Except this time, it’s a comfortable silence. And that was the start of Mando’s mysterious, protective nature breaking down the walls you put up around you. 
You fall into a routine during the rest of your traveling days. You sit in the cockpit together in comfortable silence. You sleep pressed up against each other. Your touch and gaze begin to linger. You grow more and more comfortable with each other; so comfortable that you almost forget you’re on your way to meet your fiancé and his family. 
But at night when you’re sleeping in Mando’s arms you don’t have a care in the world. You’ve grown so accustomed to sleeping with him that you know you’ll miss this when it’s over. It’s the same position every night, your back flush against his chest and his arm around your waist. And also… his hard length pressed against your butt and lower back. He wasn’t hard the first night most likely because he was so nervous. But as you both grew more comfortable you noticed the hardness more and more. You’ve never said anything about it. You didn’t want to embarrass him. 
But now it's your last night together. You’ll arrive on Naboo in the morning and your time together will be over. And you’ve come to the conclusion that you want Mando. Even if you won’t have him again after tonight. So when his cock goes hard against your back you push your butt into him, taking him by surprise. 
“...What are you doing, mesh’la?”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” you ask suggestively. 
“But you’re engaged, mesh’la,” he says quietly, defeated even.
“But I don’t want him, Mando. I don’t even know him. I was forced into this blindly. And if I have to go be with him tomorrow… I want one last good time; one last good night with you.” 
“Okay, mesh’la. Anything for you.”
And with his approval you’re pushing your butt back into him as his bare hand grabs your hip. He pulls into you, cock pressing hard against you as you ache for more touch. You rest your back on the cot and he takes the opportunity to hover over you. His hand trails up your thigh and hooks onto the waistband on your shorts. He pulls them off in one swift motion before spreading your thighs apart. His large fingers tease your entrance which was getting wetter by the second. He swept his fingers up your core, marveling how ready you were for him. He brings his thumb to your clit before moving the helmet against your face so could whisper in your ear. 
“I bet you wanted this every night, didn’t you mesh’la?”
You whimper in response, the featherlight touch of his fingers driving you insane. 
“Please. I need more.”
“What’s that?” he teases, “Are you begging for me, cyar’ika?”
You’re too horny and frustrated to retain any sort of pride now so you nod, begging even more.
“Yes. Yes, I am. Please, Mando, I need more.”
He plunges his index finger into you without warning, working your walls as your moans fill the small space.
“Look at you, cyar’ika. Already a mess just from one finger,” he purrs.
“What does that one mean? you ask. 
“Sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear just as he slips in another finger eliciting a loud moan from you. 
He curls them upwards and brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, fast circles around it as waves of pleasure shoot through your body. You feel your muscles tense up in anticipation of relief and you know you’re close to finishing. 
“I’m close, Mando,” you whine. 
“Din,” he says. 
“Hmm?” you ask, too far gone to form a complete question. 
“My name is Din, Din Djarin. Call me by my name when you cum, cyar’ika.”
All you can do is whimper in response. But that isn’t good enough for him. He stops swirling his thumb around your clit and slows his fingers inside of you. 
“What was that, cyar’ika?” he teases, moving his fingers painstakingly slow. 
“Y-yes, Din,” you say in between labored breaths. 
“Good girl,” he praises before picking up the pace again. 
Your hands grip the edges of the cot for purchase as you roll your hips against him, desperate for his complete touch. He rests on the back of his heels and brings his hand to your abdomen, right above where his fingers are inside you and where your g-spot is. He pushes his fingers against it inside you and presses down on your abdomen ever so gently, pleasuring your g-spot internally and externally. Between the three different spots of stimulation you’re at the brink of orgasm again. And this time he lets you have it, making a mess beneath you on the cot and soaking his hand down to his wrist.
“Din, I’m coming,” you moan, arching your back up against him. 
“That’s right, cyar’ika. Cum on my fingers. Just like that,” he says, bringing his helmet by your ear once more. 
Your cunt convulses around his fingers in rhythmic waves before eventually stopping. He watches you writhe in pleasure and feels a sense of pride knowing he got you to cum hard like that. He waits until you’re finished before pulling them out of you; you whine at the sudden absence. 
“Don’t worry, mesh’la. I’m gonna take care of you,” he says before leaning back and pulling his cock out of his flight suit. 
He slicks his cock with your release and you spread your legs wider to accommodate how broad he is. He grabs your hand as he pushes into you. You gasp at his length, filling you completely. He buries his cock into you down to the hilt and showers you with praise. 
“You take my cock so good, cyar’ika,” he says as he stretches your walls.
His other hand moves to your tit, thumbing around your nipple and worrying into a stiff peak. It pulls a deep moan from prompting him to explore your body and learn just what makes you melt. His eyes are locked with yours, even though you can’t see his. He tears away his gaze for a moment to look down at your cunt and the way it grips his cock moving in and out of you. He curses at the sight, mesmerized by it before fucking you relentlessly. You feel your core tense up again before washing you over with the biggest wave of relief. You know he’s at the edge, too. He goes to pull out but you don’t want him to, not ready for the fullness you’re feeling to go away. 
“I have an implant,” you say quickly.
And with that he drives his hips into you one last time before releasing his load into you, coating your insides. He cums with a loud groan, spilling out of the helmet. He lays down, keeping you inside him and pulls you against his chest. 
“You’re amazing, cyar’ika,” he purrs, hand trailing up and down your figure. 
You sigh happily in response. He goes to pull out but you stop him, telling him you want to fall asleep like this. He relaxes and settles against you, wrapping your arm around your waist. 
“Thank you for that, Din,” you whisper. 
“Anything for you, cyar’ika.” he whispers back as sleep overtakes you both. 
You wake up to the sensation of his cock hardening inside you. You let out an involuntary moan and move your ass against him. He grinds back into you before waking up fully, hand gripping your waist tightly. You move back and forth with each other in a perfect rhythm, your ass colliding with his groin, plunging his cock into you as deep as it can go. He reaches forward and parts your legs slightly so he can rub your clit. You moan and lean back against his strong chest while he fucks you; the dual sensation taking you to the edge quickly. You cum simultaneously, pulling every last drop out of him as your cunt flutters around his cock. You’re feeling fuller than ever, between his length and having taken two of his loads. You’re going to miss this feeling so much. You’ve only had sex twice now and you’re already missing the feeling of him inside you. 
“You’re so dirty, cyar’ika,” he muses, hands roaming your body again, “Going to another man, full of my cum.”
“And wishing it was you,” you whine. 
“I know,” he whispers, “At least I got to experience this with you.”
“Yeah…” you trail off, the realization of today settling in. 
“I guess I should go get ready,” you sigh. 
He doesn’t say anything but you can feel him exhale behind you. You lift yourself up out of the cot and strip your pajamas. He sits up on the cot and admires your naked form in front of him, fearing it’s the last time he’ll ever see it. He wishes he could just rip off the helmet and take an unobstructed mental image but he knows he can’t. You go get dressed for the day, feeling so angry and defeated about your situation that you don’t bother to shower and wash him off of you. If you’re going to walk into an arranged marriage you’re going to do it encapsulated in the scent of your lover and filled with his cum. 
Din reattaches his armor and his weapons before retreating to the cockpit. You gather your things and meet him there, sitting in the passenger seat silently. The gloom of the situation permeated the space and both of you were feeling it. This time the silence is sad and lonely instead of comfortable like it had been for the past several days. 
Naboo comes into view and you gasp at the lush planet. Why does this beautiful place have to hold such terrible implications? Din watches the way your face lights up as you admire the scenery. He received coordinates where to land prior to leaving and heads there. One the Crest is stationary and he gets up to help you with his bags, pulling you into one final hug before lowering the exit ramp. 
“Take care, ner alor’ika.”
“Hmm, what does that one mean?” you ask against his chest plate. 
“My princess,” he says softly, moving his hand to the small of your back. 
He pulls away and lowers the exit ramp. You see the unfortunately familiar face of Valsi and an older lady who can only assume is his mother. You walk down the exit ramp with Din as he carries your bags.
Valsi’s mom greets you with a cheery hello. She starts rambling on about how excited is to show you around. Din sets your bags down on the ground and Valsi calls for a servant to collect them before taking your arm. They lead you away and you look over your shoulder to get one final glimpse at him before he turns and walks to the crest, the exit ramp closing behind him. A pit forms in your stomach as you hear his engines power up. 
Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind 
Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in
As if you were a mythical thing
Like you were a trophy or a champion ring
And there was one prize I'd cheat to win
Valsi’s grip on your arm is tight and constricting as his mother shows you around. It really is a beautiful place; high vaulted ceilings decorated with elaborate paintings supported by strong columns. But you can’t admire the place without Valsi making a snide comment. 
“You won’t find places like this on Savareen,” he says, a dark smirk painting his face. 
“Valsi! Don’t be rude!” his mother scolds. At least she’s more polite than him. 
“Well, it’s true…” he says under his breath. 
His mother shakes her head and rolls her eyes before leading you outside. The garden is vibrant, green and full of life. Species of flowers you’ve never seen before lined up in neat rows with various sculptures arranged amongst them. Across the way there’s a shining, bright blue lake and in the distance mountains loom above casting their mystified reflection on the water’s surface. Minus the mountains, the lake reminds you of the oceans on Savareen and your heart aches. 
His mother goes to say something but she’s cut off by a blinding silver reflection walking across the garden. Your stomach lurches at the sight; Din Djarin walking towards you in a field of flowers. A giddy smile breaks out onto your face and you don’t care about Valsi or his mother’s reaction.
“You came back,” you say as he reaches you, trying to mask your excitement. 
“I’ve been hired by your father to look after you whenever Valsi is busy… up until the wedding,” he says.
“That’s ridiculous. We have plenty of guards here that can look after her,” Valsi retorts, narrowing his eyes. 
“Her father’s orders,” Din shrugs.
“Ugh, whatever.”
A servant comes out to the garden and motions for Valsi to come over to him.
“I have meetings I need to attend. See you for dinner tonight,” he says, squeezing your hand.
You pull back in disgust and he leaves to follow the servant inside.
“Feel free to explore on your own,” his mother says, “When you’re ready to be shown to your room, ask a servant and one of them will show you.”
“Thank you,” you smile. His mother really does seem like a nice woman. It’s a shame her son turned out the way he did. 
It’s just you and Din alone in the garden, standing in front of each other. You start walking towards the water and he follows you, admiring how the sun hits your face and how your hair catches the wind. You’re relieved to be with him again even if it’s only for a short time. You stop at the railing and rest your hands on it, leaning forward and looking at the rolling waves of the lake. The breeze blows your hair back and fills you senses with the scent of the flora around you. You look over at Din and wonder what it’s like for him under there. Does he ever miss the feeling of the sun on his face or the wind in his hair? Does he even have hair? You have no idea what he looks like. Can he smell things underneath the helmet?
“What are you thinking about, mesh’la?”
“What you look like… and if you can smell things through the helmet.”
His gloved hand on the railing slides towards yours, resting it on top. “Of course, I can smell, cyar’ika. I would fall asleep with you pressed up against me, smelling your sweet scent every night.”
Maker, you want him so bad right now. You inch closer towards him, barely keeping any space between you two.
“Cyar’ika…” he says nervously, “What if someone sees?”
“I don’t care,” you groan, resting your head against his chest plate, facing the water. You could stay like this forever, in his arms and surrounded by nature. 
But eventually you start to think that people might worry if you’re gone for a long time with him so you retreat back inside. You ask a servant to show you to your room. He leads you down a long hallway and stops at one of the doors. The room is beautiful, just like the rest of the mansion. You have a balcony that looks right out to the lake. Your bags are beside your bed and you turn to ask the servant about Din. 
“What about him?”
“Uh, Master Valsi never told me of any arrangements for him.”
“Well he is my bodyguard. I would like him to have a room not too far from me.”
“Very well, miss. I’ll get started on that. Dinner is in about an hour.”
“Thank you,” you smile. He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Din alone. He closes the gap between you and snakes his arm around to the small of your back. 
“Do you know how badly I want to take you right here, cyar’ika?” he whispers.
“I mean… we have an hour,” you say suggestively.
That’s all the clearance he needs. He pushes you down on the bed gently and pulls up the skirt of your dress to reveal no underwear.
“No underwear, cyar’ika? Iba’ etyc alor’ika.” What a dirty little princess. 
You moan at his words and spread your legs open for him, aching for his touch. He wastes no time bringing his fingers to your entrance and stroking it lightly, in awe of how wet you are already.
“How bad do you want it, cyar’ika?”
“So bad, Din. Please I can’t wait any longer,” you whine. 
He chuckles at your neediness and slides a finger in, curling it upwards against your walls. Barely giving you time to adjust, he pushes another in, anxious to get you cumming around his fingers. He brings his thumb to your clit and in no time he pulls an orgasm from you. You arch your hips up against him as your cunt convulses around him. He pulls his fingers from you after you’ve ridden out your high and releases his cock that was pitching a tent in his flight suit. He slicks his length with your juices and pushes into your cunt immediately, desperate for the warm, familiar feeling again. This is the first time you’ve had him during the day. And the light from the window and balcony across the room bathes him in the warm sunny glow. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him above you, inside you and in his full armor. It’s new for him, too. Not only are you also bathed in the afternoon light but you’re also in a bigger bed this time. And it allows you to sprawl out so beautifully underneath him. He leans down, effectively folding you in half and drives his hips into you harder. With this new angle you’re at the brink of orgasm and after one last forceful thrust you’re coming undone around him. Your muscles contract and release in a symphony, cunt fluttering around his cock pulling his own orgasm from him. Thick ropes of cum paint your walls as he slows his pace before pulling out of you carefully. He lays down on the bed and pulls you into him, the cold beskar a nice contrast to your warm, sweaty face. After a while of catching your breath he says, “You should probably go get ready for dinner, cyar’ika.”
“I know,” you sigh.
He rises and puts his cock away, grabbing your hand and helping you up from the plush bed. You undress and get ready to step in the refresher, making it even harder for you to leave him.
“I’m going to go retrieve some stuff from the Crest, cyar’ika,” he sighs.
“Okay,” you say softly, “See you after dinner.”
He leaves and closes the door behind him. You get in the refresher and clean yourself up, already missing him. You change into one of the dresses you packed, off the shoulder and a silky blue color before a servant comes to pick you up for dinner. He leads you to a large dining room, again with large vaulted ceilings. The table is so big and you’re sitting so far apart it’s barely like eating together. You’re sitting across from Valsi and his mother is at one end of the table.
“You’ll have to forgive Valsi’s father. He got caught up with some business on Coruscant but he’ll be here soon,” she says.
You nod and eat together in silence before asking, “What about-”
But Valsi cuts you off, “The Mandalorian? The servants will bring him his own food to his room.”
You think about Din eating alone in his room and feel sad for him, wanting nothing more than to sit against the door and talk with him while you share a meal together. Valsi raises his eyebrow at your concern for him but drops it, going back to eating his food in silence. Eventually the three of you are finished and you excuse yourself to your room.
“Thank you so much for the tour and thank you for having me in your home,” you say to his mom, looking past Valsi.
“Of course, dear. Have a good night.”
And with that you rise from your chair and walk back to your room, anxious to see Din again. You spot a servant in the entryway of the house and ask, “Where is the Mandalorian’s room?” careful not to use his name.
“The same hallway as you, miss. But all the way at the end.”
You tell him thanks and start walking a little faster, climbing up the staircase and heading towards the hallway. You reach the end and knock on his door, but you get no response. You wait a little before knocking again… but nothing. Maybe he’s already asleep? Maybe he’s still in the Crest? You wait for a sign of his presence before retreating to your room, feeling a little defeated. You get ready for bed and change into your pajamas, slipping into the soft bed and wishing Din was here with you. 
You drift off to sleep but don’t stay asleep for long because you feel someone on the other side of the room. You hear the clink of metal and the sheets rustle as the person sneaks into bed with you. You turn over to see Din getting into bed with you silently. 
“Din! What if someone comes in?”
“I won’t stay the whole night… I just couldn’t sleep without you.”
You feel a sense of relief, for you too have grown used to the feeling of him against you every night.
“Okay,” you say softly, settling yourself in the crook of his neck, “Goodnight, Din.”
“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”
“The more that you say
The less I know
Wherever you stray
I follow
I'm begging for you to take my hand
Wreck my plans
That's my man”
You wake up early in the morning with Din still at your side. He’s still sleeping so you pull yourself away (even though it’s hard) to watch the sunrise over the mountains and the lake. The sun peeks over the mountaintops cloaking everything in a warm, amber glow. You lean over the railing of the balcony, resting your elbows on it and placing your head in your hands, admiring the stillness of it all. No one telling you where to go, no Valsi dragging you by the arm, no father that doesn’t listen to you. Just you and your lover on a peaceful morning after just spending the night together. You hear Din get up and walk behind you, hooking his hands on your hips. It’s early enough that you don’t care about anyone seeing you together. You’re probably the only ones awake. He slides your sleep shorts down and you stand on your tiptoes for him. You feel the leather of his gloves trail up and your entrance before he pulls away to take them off. You hear the them hit the floor and he replaces his hand, bare this time. His fingers tease your core, playing with you until you whine for him, getting sick of the teasing. You stand on your tiptoes even higher, arching your ass against his groin. 
“Right here, cyar’ika? What if someone sees?”
“No one will… and if someone does, oh well,” you sigh. 
“That’s my girl,” he chuckles before plunging a finger into you. 
You moan at the sensation and arch your back more, desperate for more of his touch. He slips another finger in and works your walls, preparing you for his cock. Before you could cum he pulls them out of you, whining at the empty feeling. But before you could complain anymore you feel his cock push into you slowly. You sigh at the feeling of being full once again. He grips your hips and pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your soft and hushed moans surround you as you do your best to keep quiet. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming around him, gripping his cock like a vice. He erupts his load into you, filling you with the familiar feeling of his cum soaking your cunt once again. He pulls out of you and brings you up into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. The cold feeling of his chest plate presses against your back, slick with sweat from this morning’s activities. You stay there for a moment, holding each other and watching the rest of the sunrise. 
“Ni ka'tayli gar darasuum,” he says softly.
“Hmm?” you ask, still feeling blissed out.
“I love you, alor’ika. And I know that’s unfair to you because you’re engaged to someone else but… I can’t help how I feel.”
You turn and face him, gazing up into his visor and shocked that you just got a confession of love from him. But deep down… you feel the same way. And it hurts so bad because you know in a month you’ll be married to someone else.
“I love you, too, Din,” you say. 
He pulls you into him and strokes your back gently. You close your eyes and relax but you’re interrupted when you hear a knock on the door.
“Breakfast is in thirty minutes, miss,” you hear a servant say.
“Kriff, they’re probably going to your room next,” you say, pulling away and looking up at Din. 
“It’s okay, cyar’ika. I can just say I was sleeping before when they bring my food.”
You sigh and nod before going to get ready, changing into another dress. Din hugs you from behind one last time before returning to his room. You leave and walk to the dining room for breakfast to find Valsi and his mom sitting, talking about wedding preparations.
“Well, Valsi,” his mom sighs, “You’re already giving barely enough time to plan this wedding and now you want to move it up?” 
“Mhm. As soon as possible. Next week.”
She sighs again, “Fine, let me go alert the help of my son’s rash behavior.”
She gets up and leaves. You look at Valsi with a confused expression on your face.
“We’re moving up the wedding?”
“Mhm,” he says, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He looks down at you with a truly sinister look in his eye. 
“One of the servants alerted me of your little activity with the Mandalorian this morning. Can’t say I’m surprised. You two can’t keep your hands off each other.”
Your mouth falls open and a pit forms in your stomach. 
He continues speaking and grabs your chin, “So you can mess around with your little Mandalorian play thing for now. But once we’re married, you’re mine. Do I make myself clear?”
“Mhm.”
“Good. Don’t really want this getting out to the public, do you? Think of your father’s reputation once everyone finds out you’re cheating on another senator’s son with a Mandalorian of all people.”
He releases his grip on your chin. “Alright, go run to him and tell him the news. But later today you’re looking for a wedding dress,” he sighs, returning to his chair. 
You push out your chair and leave the dining room at once, tears forming in your eyes. You don’t stop until you reach Din’s room, knocking on the door and calling for him. You hear the hiss of the modulator through the door; he must’ve been eating. He opens the door and you collapse into him, letting the tears flow.
“What happened, cyar’ika?” he says, rubbing your back.
“Someone found out about us and told Valsi… he moved up the wedding to next week,” you sob. 
You feel him tense up against you. “I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I wish there was something I could do.”
“Take me away from here,” you say softly.
“I… can’t. I’m sorry, cyar’ika. They’re members of the Senate. They’ll have everyone in the galaxy after us.”
You sob even harder, feeling completely hopeless. Not even Din can save you from this. You pull away, just wanting to wallow in your sadness alone.
“I think… I need to be alone.”
“Cyar’ika-”
But you don’t listen. You turn on your heel and walk back to your room, collapsing into bed and letting your tears overtake you. You drift off to sleep but your nap is interrupted by a servant waking you up, telling you it’s time to go pick out your dress. 
You leave with the servant and Din, who says nothing to you. They take you into the city and drop you off at a dress shop with enough credits. They wait for you out front while you make your selections. You couldn’t care less about your wedding dress and what it looks like since the marriage is a sham anyway. You pick the first one you see, pay and leave. You meet Din and the servant outside, ready to be done with being in public so you can go back to your room and wallow in sadness. You return back to the mansion and make a beeline for your room, tossing your dress on the dresser before falling into bed. You cry yourself to sleep and miss dinner, waking up the next morning with puffy eyes and an upset stomach.
The next several days feel monotonous, an endless cycle of pretending to care about wedding preparations and crying in your room. Valsi’s father and your family arrive on Naboo a few days before the wedding. Surprisingly, your parents invite the few friends you had on Savareen before you moved away; the best thing to happen to you in days. You’re happy to see them again but you wish it was under different circumstances. Din still hangs around, checking in on you in your room occasionally but you still hold some animosity for him for not being willing to get you out of here. 
“Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark
Show me the places where the others gave you scars
Now this is an open-shut case
Guess I should've known from the look on your face
Every bait and switch was a work of art”
It’s the night before the wedding and you hear a soft knock on your door. You open to see Din and despite your disdain for him you let him in. He sits on the bed gingerly, seeming nervous. You fold your arms, getting ready to speak first. But surprisingly he does.
“I just wanted to see you one last time.”
You sigh. In all honesty you wanted this, too. 
“Me, too,” you admit, sitting down next to him and looking down at your hands. 
He reaches over and palms your thigh. You pull off your dress before laying down on the bed and opening your legs for him. The dim glow on the lamps reflects off his beskar as he moves to your underwear, hooking the fabric with his fingers and pulling it off. He brings his finger to your cunt, teasing you lightly, taking his time with you on your final night together. You whine at his delicate touch, aching for more. He pulls off his gloves and feels just how wet you are for him, wanting to hear you beg for him again. 
“Please, Din. I need you,” you moan. 
On command he slides his finger in, pumping it and out of you slowly. “Anything for you, cyar’ika.”
It’s been days since you last had him and you missed him so much. You writhe under his touch; just from one finger. He marvels at your body, the plush skin of your thighs and how you arch your back in pleasure. Aching for more he pushes another finger in and brings his thumb to your clit. He rubs small, quick circles around it and curls his fingers, pulling an orgasm from you in no time. You soak his hand down to his wrist as your cunt grips his fingers. He waits until you’re done riding out your high before removing them from you and pulling his cock out of his flight suit. He lubricates his length with your release and aligns himself with your entrance, taking your hand one last time as he enters you slowly. You gasp at the sensation of him filling you up completely, burying his cock into you balls deep and grazing your cervix. His hands move to your waist pulling you into him as he thrusts into you. Your moans fill the bedroom and you couldn’t care less about anyone hearing you right now. He looks down at you in complete adoration as you take him. Din feels his cock tense up and his balls tighten. He’s at the brink of orgasm but he wants you to cum with him. He slams his hips into you harder and faster, sending you over the edge. Your cunt flutters around, pulling every last drop of cum from him as he fucks you through your release. He slows and pulls out of you, laying on the bed next to you. You place yourself in the crook of his neck one last time, inhaling his scent and trying to memorize every last detail about him before you never see him again. 
“Yooba solus mesh’la,” he whispers. (You are beautiful)
You sigh against him, never wanting this moment to end. But it’s getting late and you have to wake up early tomorrow. Reluctantly, you pull away from him and he gets up. You lead him to the door and give him one final hug. 
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, alor’ika,” he whispers against your hair.
“I love you, too,” you whisper back. 
After one final look at each other he leaves, returning to back his room. You put on your pajamas and crawl into bed, silently crying before you fall asleep. 
You wake up the next morning with puffy eyes and an ache in your heart. Din’s surely gone by now. What reason would he have to stick around for the wedding?
Servants knock on the door and tell you they’re here to help you get ready. You get up to let them in and they begin to work on your hair and makeup. You put on your dress and look in the mirror. You look beautiful but you don’t feel beautiful; getting ready to marry a man you don’t love while you’re full with the seed of another. 
The servants escort you down the stairs and you see your parents. They tell you how beautiful you look and how happy they are for you. You give them a faux smile, trying to fake any ounce of happiness you can muster.
Soon, it’s time for the ceremony and you look out into the garden from the house at all the guests. It has to be a large wedding of course, filled with some of the most important people in the New Republic. You see Valsi at the end of the aisle, looking annoyed like he’s just waiting for this to be over. You walk down the aisle with your father and start to feel sick to your stomach at all of the eyes on you. He hands you off to Valsi who takes your hand, a little too tight. The officiant begins reading the wedding passage and your ears start ringing. You don’t even listen to what he and Valsi are saying, missing your cues to speak several times. You can sense Valsi getting annoyed with you, his brow furrowing at you as you trip up on your vows again. Before you can finish you hear a loud, “Stop!”
You rip your gaze from Valsi to see Din standing in the aisle. He doesn’t even have to continue calling for you. You immediately run towards him and into his arms, ignoring the protests of Valsi and your family and the gasps from the guests. You hear Valsi call for the guards and Din draws his blaster. He places one hand on the small of your back and begins firing once the guards do. 
“Run, cyar’ika! To the docking yard!”
You turn and bolt. You hear Valsi shout, “Don’t let her get away!”
Din follows you, shooting his blaster at anyone chasing after you. Between the adrenaline rush of escaping and being fired at you push yourself harder, desperate to get away. You reach the docking yard and run straight to the Razor Crest. Din opens the exit ramp and ushers you inside, firing his blaster a few more times at the guards before following you inside. He closes the ramp behind him and rushes up the ladder and into the pilot seat, preparing the Crest for takeoff hastily. Not before long you’re taking off, staring at the beautiful planet beneath you but feeling so grateful to be leaving. Once you left the atmosphere Din jumps to lightspeed. He turns to you and grabs your hands. 
“Are you okay? Are you hurt, cyar’ika?”
You shake your head no, still panting from the chase and replaying it in your head. 
“How are we going to do this, Din? They’re going to send everyone after us.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan. We’re going to Nevarro where I have some people who’ve agreed to hide us. But there’s one thing… you have to become my riduur.”
“Your what?”
“My wife; my spouse.”
Without hesitation you tell him yes and he sighs in relief, worried that you didn’t want to escape one marriage by entering a new one. He lets go of your hands and brings them to the edge of his helmet. You immediately throw your hands over your eyes and ask, “What are you doing?!”
“Don’t you want to see the face of the man you’re marrying, cyar’ika?”
“...I can do that?”
“Yes, cyar’ika,” he chuckles but his heart swells at the idea of you agreeing to marry him without seeing his face; at your devotion to him. 
He pulls off the helmet and you hear the hiss of the modulator. You slowly remove your hands from your face and see Din, staring back at you. Brown, curly hair, a little matted from the helmet, a strong, prominent nose, two frown lines perched between his eyebrows, slightly patchy facial hair, and warm brown eyes scanning your face for any sign of approval. He’s beautiful; more beautiful than you ever could’ve imagined.
You crash your lips against his and entangle your hands in his hair, reveling in the feeling of his bare face pressed against yours. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. 
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“You don’t have to thank me, cyar’ika. I’d do anything for you… I love you.”
“I love you, too, Din,” you say, kissing him again. 
He rests his hand on the back of your neck, continuing the kiss until he pulls away to check the coordinates on the control panel. You can’t tear your eyes away from him, watching him in the blue glow from hyperspace. He turns his face towards you again and smiles, the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. That’s your man. 
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End note: Wow ok so that's the longest fic I've ever written!!! I would love to hear your thoughts!!! I was pretty nervous about posting something with this large of a scale contained in one fic so I would love to hear what you think 🥺🖤
Tag list and anyone else I thought might be interested!: @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @bearsbeetsbeskar @jksprincess10 @dinsdjrn @dindjarinslegs @pr0ximamidnight @ghoultalks @beee-haw @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @heareball @littlemisspascal @marisemonteiroo @split-spectrum @hnt-escape @polishedtaylor @toxicanonymity @scmdsblog @babeincolor @undrthelights @tuquoquebrute @pedritosdarling @tieronecrush @pedrostories @tinygarbage @pedropascll @theelishad @kirsteng42 @pedritolover @randomnessfangirl @cannolighost @saradika @readingfan
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licorice-tea · 3 months
Text
Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet) Pt. 2
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: mentions of fights/canon typical violence and weapons, sooo much pining, can be read as a stand alone or as part of the mini series, allies to friends to lovers (soon!?), etc!
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: hmmm where do i start? i changed the pov from third to second person, (the first part was third person) the writing style of this is a little different from what i usually do but i still like it so hopefully you do to! pls enjoy and ty for reading <333
edited 1/8/24
Part 1 | Part 3
Law finds y/n leaning on the starboard railing of the Thousand Sunny.
You feel Law’s steps on the wooden planks and look over your shoulder to see him approaching. you swear you can hear your own heartbeat, and only hope that he won’t be able to hear it, too. Your thoughts are interrupted by his presence to your left. Law leans over the railing, mug of coffee in hand. A moment of silence passes while he watches you watch the sea from the corner of his eye.
“Can you even see anything?” he questions, his words coming off much harsher than intended,
A bit caught off guard, you simply respond, “Mhm, everything.” you have good vision, so you’re sort of the natural choice for keeping watch if Zoro doesn’t feel like staying up.
You can feel Law’s gaze on your profile. You can also feel your cheeks heating up, but those two things are completely independent… It doesn’t even matter though, because the darkness of the night should be enough to hide that from him.
“Are you having a good time on board the Thousand Sunny?” 
“It’s alright. You guys are really loud.” He says in a near scoff.
“Oh… Sorry about that.” Did you really bother him so much?
Law mentally kicks himself and is quick to wave a hand in front of his face apologetically, “No, I just mean… you’re all very energetic. Not you specifically, either. You’re actually really, uh…”
You wait patiently, now peering up at him through your lashes. He meets your eyes with his own, much more frantic gaze.
“You’re… nice.” He finally averts his eyes with a turn of cheek.
“Oh… thank you.” You smile to yourself. “I think you’re really nice, too.”
Law releases another scoff, though it comes off as more surprised than mean. He struggles with accurately portraying his feelings for you, who remains equally oblivious to his feelings as he does to yours. “You must be thinking of someone else.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m not known for being nice.”
“People must not really know you, then.”
“And you do?”
“Not as much as I’d like to, but well enough.”
“… What?” He finds that you make him feel dumb sometimes, be it through quick rebuttals or patient stares.
“I just mean, we could be friends. But I understand if you don’t-“
“I do.”
“… Ok.” You grin once more.
The pair stare out to sea, and Law takes another sip of his coffee.
“How come I never see you in fights with your crew?”
“I try to stay out of the way. Plus, I don’t really like fighting in the first place- that’s not why I joined my crew. It’s more of a last resort.”
“Interesting.”
“You think so?”
“That you would rather play support than have to get into a fight? Definitely. It’s not very pirate-like.” He nearly sneers- he has certain beliefs on what a pirate should be in order to be of use to their crew.
But, ever the optimist, you simply laugh, “So I’ve been told,” you start. “I guess I’m a little… strict about my morals. Just never really want to hurt someone, you know? Even if it makes people think I’m weak, because I know I’m not.”
“At least you’re self aware.” Law begins, but for some unknown reason feels compelled to continue. To give you some little piece of himself in return for what you’ve told him. However, after he tells you, “I don’t enjoy fighting much either, I just do it to protect my crew.” he feels like he’s talking too much.
You listen intently, “And do you have a family? If you don’t mind me asking.”
He shakes his head no, “Gone.”
You nod solemnly. “Well, I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”
“Have you… lost someone?” Law immediately regrets asking such a personal question.
But, you aren't offended. “No, I’ve been lucky in that way. Though we aren’t really… We don’t… Well, we’re not close.”
“Why’s that?” he mimics your earlier question, which you pick up on and smirk at.
So you sigh; “I guess the whole running-away-with-a-pirate crew thing kind of soiled their opinion of me.”
Your eyes meet again after your confession, and after a moment of silence, you both break out in laughter. Except, Law’s is more of just the shake of his shoulders, while you actually laugh.
“It’s not funny-” Law says through broken exhales.
“No, it’s really not!” you shake your head, still caught in a fit of giggles.
Eventually you both still yourselves, and Law concentrates on his half empty mug while you look up at the stars above head. Then you look at him from the corner of their eye, just for a split second, but find his eyes are already trained on you. So you offer a smile, like always, and go back to star gazing. Another moment passes, and your enjoyment of conversation gets the best of you.
“What’s it like living in a submarine?” Law raises a brow and gives a sidelong glance at your question. “Don’t you miss land and the sky when you’re down there?”
“Yeah. I miss land sometimes, I guess.”
You explore the answer to your question further by standing up on the ledge before you, and leaning over the railing to look down into the waves being split by the Thousand Sunny. It’s not a particularly dangerous stunt at all- there’s the floor, a 3 inch raised ledge, and the railing on top of it. When you stand on it, your height is barely altered; that’s how non perilous what you are doing is, for context. You simply want to lean over to see the waves.
But Law’s hand shoots out to grasp your shoulder, acting as a tether. You look at him with a concerned expression, which turns into a smirk. You could stay up there, maybe even turn and lift yourself slightly to sit on the railing itself, but you decide to come back down to the floor on your heels instead of giving the surgeon something else to stress over. Law then pulls his hand back rigidly and scratches the back of his neck with near painful awkwardness due to his sudden display of concern for your safety.
“I don’t think I could trip all the way over the railing unless I tried.” You tease.
“No, I- I know.” he coughs. Did he really just stutter?
“See? You are nice. You care.” you punctuate your statement with a smirk and the side to side tilt of their head. An occasional habit that, if someone were around you often enough to witness, they would know signified a feeling of triumph.
Law is at a loss for words at the moment, thoughts clouded by the growing warmth in his chest that seems to fluctuate up and down his neck and face, but never disappears completely when he’s around you.
“Sure.” he takes to mumbling again.
“You know, I really like having you here with us.”
“…You do?”
“Yeah. I love the other Straw Hats of course, but… I don’t know, you’re different.”
“You’re different from my crew, too.”
“Oh yeah? In a good way, I hope.”
Law shrugs, “Yeah.” He pauses, then mutters something under his breath. “In a good way.”
You’d blurt out your feelings here and now, if it were anyone else. But this is Law, and you kind of like him a lot, so you want to do things right. Besides, that would probably only scare him away- he seems like the kind of man who carefully works his way up to a relationship. With a friendly smile, you accept his statement. Because now that you know he considers you a friend at the very least, and more than likely shares your affections… you’re in no rush.
The night goes by quickly in his company, and soon enough you spot the golden rays of the sun peaking over the horizon.
“We should do this again sometime,” you tell him as the sun starts to climb higher into the sky (quicker than you’d like), “I had fun talking to you.”
Law nods, “Just let me know when you’re keeping watch,” he waves over his shoulder as he walks away, “I’ll be there.”
And when he makes it back to the privacy of his room, Law replays the night in his head. Over and over and over again, until he comes to a not-so-shocking conclusion. “Shit:”
“I’m falling for y/n.”
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sarahs-secrets2 · 9 months
Text
Surf's Up! ˋ♡ˊ
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surfer!leon x fem reader! no use of y/n!
someone approaches you at the beach and offers you a surf lesson, do you say yes? 1k words!
a/n: i dont surf, i tried to make it as accurate as i could pls forgive me in advance
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ
Saying it was hot out was an understatement with the way the sun refused to let up, and it didn't help that there wasn't a single cloud in the sky on your beach day. Most people would love this kind of day but the stagnant heat was unbearable, especially with the addition of burning hot sand.
You propped yourself up on the palms of your hands onto the striped towel beneath you, allowing your gaze to drift toward the sea. It was peak surfing hour. The waves were strong today hence why you were avoiding the water while the surfers were the first to jump in. Bringing a hand up to your face to shield the stray beams of sunlight, you watched as the surfers attempted to catch a wave. Shifting on the towel, pulling your knees close to your chest becoming completely enthralled in the display in front of you. 
“You gonna get out there today?” a voice appeared behind you. Your head cocked to the side of you, neck craning to get a view of the stranger. 
“Me? Hell no,” you chuckled, looking up at the man who towered above you as you sat on the towel. It was hard to make out his face entirely as the sun that had been pestering you all day continued to do so, perching itself almost directly above the man's head resulting in a faint shadow draping over the man’s features. Pushing yourself up from the sand you stood facing the man now finally able to see his face.
“I think you should give it a try,” he smiled wide as he laughed, well aware you weren’t a surfer by any means. “Ah sorry, Leon,” his hand jutted out awkwardly for a handshake, “Where are my manners?”
“Nice to meet you, Leon,” it was almost impossible not to smile at how genuinely kind he seemed, a tad nervous but it was undeniably cute. Leon had blonde hair that seemed to be pulling more on the lighter side due to the constant sun you could tell he was getting. His eyes were just as blue as the ocean that was just a few meters away. You would be doing a disservice to yourself if you didn't admit how attractive he was. His wetsuit was draped around his waist, slightly tugging his swim trunks down showing a bit more than just his tan line. “You headed out?” your head motioned towards the crashing waves. 
“Soon, got distracted,” winking as shifted his feet in the sand, “I could teach you ya know, if you want to learn that is,” his fingers ran through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face. Your eyes flickered from him to the other surfers on the horizon. Although you quite literally just met him there was something about Leon that you knew you could trust. Leon was able to make out your indecision, his hand reached for your shoulder giving it a light squeeze, “C’mon, promise I’ll take good care of ya,”
“Fineee,” you dragged it out, trying to play it cool and hide your excitement, “When’s my lesson?”
“Tonight? Like 5 or 6-ish, I can bring an extra board and wetsuit for you,” his hand snaked around his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, nervous that you would change your mind.
“That sounds perfect,”
“Good, yeah great actually,” he laughed as he stumbled over his words. “Okay yeah, tonight,” he repeated, faintly mumbling as his nerves seemed to get the better of him. Leon hadn’t planned this far ahead, you actually saying yes. He had figured you would've written him off from the start. 
“I hope you’re a good teacher,” you teased, trying to ease his mind a bit. 
“Oh yeah I’m great,” Leon loosened up, leaning into your jokes. “You’ll be my first student so you’ll have to give me some pointers yeah?” his arms crossed in front of his chest as he sized you up. 
“Yeah I think I can manage that, I can be quite the teacher’s pet,” your comment was quick to catch Leon off guard, he cleared his throat with his eyes darting to the ground. 
“Uh,” his voice trailed as he tried to regain his train of thought, “Show me tonight,” he attempted to laugh it off, obviously flustered. He fiddled with his wetsuit for a minute before tugging it up and slipping his arms through the sleeves. Almost like he was doing it on purpose, he left the zipper wide opening, basically forcing you to look at how fit he was. “You gonna watch me out there? Keep an eye on me?”
“Of course, can’t lose my teacher before my lesson,” you winked, making sure to keep your eyes on his, not letting them drift any lower. 
“Good,” he chuckled, zipping up the wetsuit finally. “I’m counting on it, see you here tonight,” he winked back before jogging off to get his board. 
You smiled to yourself as you settled back down onto the beach towel. Your hand was back up to cover your eyes from the sun to offer a better view of the surfers. It was impossible to miss Leon’s bright blonde hair amidst the crowd as he paddled out to catch a wave. It wasn't long before he was able to pick one out and get up. Almost an hour had passed and Leon stayed out catching wave after wave.
After sitting at the beach the entirety of the day, you were in desperate need of a quick refresh at home before your lesson later. With that, you picked up your towel and bag and started making your way back to your car. 
“See you later,” a voice yelled out. Your head swiveled around to see Leon still in the ocean, sitting on his board, waving to you. Smiling, you waved back at him before continuing your walk and hoping you wouldn't make a complete fool out of yourself later.
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ
part 2!
massive shoutout and thank you to @navstuffs for being so so kind and helping me get back into this writing thing after my break! :)
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incorrectbatfam · 11 months
Note
What last minute gas station gifts would the bats buy for someones birthday?
Dick: a snow globe but instead of snow it's glittery water because half of Louisiana sits below sea level
Jason: an overpriced wooden deer antler because Minnesota Nice is more like Minnesota Passive-Aggressive That Digs Into Your Conscience
Tim: a coupon book for the car wash even though they both know they're not going back to Idaho
Damian: a local author's book on gardening because he's not gonna find anything else in rural Manitoba
Duke: off-brand Gatorade near Area 51 with warnings for children and people who are pregnant
Cullen: a mixtape from a guy in the parking lot claiming to need the money to get to Nashville even though it's not that far and $8 is the exact same price as a pack of cigarettes
Stephanie: maple syrup in a pretty leaf-shaped bottle so no one pays attention to the fact that it was produced in Albuquerque and does not in fact contain any maple syrup
Cassandra: Gary Gator, a plushie dressed exactly how you'd expect for a Fort Lauderdale gas station mascot
Barbara: the exact same novelty license plate sold at every gift shop across Pennsylvania
Harper: a t-shirt for some place called Salty Moe's Burger Bucket off of I-94 just outside Eau Claire
Carrie: taffy from the fifth place claiming to be America's oldest candy shop even though Arizona was the 47th state to join the union
Kate: room temperature beer from a 100 square foot place claiming to be the best rest stop in Eastern Montana
Alfred: a gun 'cause it's Texas but also because he can appreciate a historically accurate replica
Selina: cash from the ATM after the asshole manager refused to do something as simple as giving her directions to Boston
Bruce: the gas station even though there's no point trying to drive in NYC
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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months
Note
May I request the cast of Tadc x reader, whose y/n is a mermaid? I already imagine that yn would be right in the digital lake, singing or combing her hair like Ariel-
TADC cast x mermaid!reader !
this one may be a little short since my back is already starting to get all... stiff... sobs.... might go lay down for a few minutes then come back and knock out the other request that got sent in !!
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CAINE:
caine is a little perplexed as to why you stay at the lake all the time, your room does have water... though, to be fair, your room is blocked off and small. i think it would take him a while to directly interact with you but just know that every night when you sing hes listening to you... actually now that i think about it, i dont think it would take him long to make himself known, he would probably clap and applaud you after one of your personal performances... probably makes sailor jokes, because, you know, sea stuff and mermaid lore... wants to include you more in stuff so he probably does IHAs that are lake themed, or perhaps makes something sort of like a portable tank..
POMNI:
she probably mistakes you for an NPC for a moment LMAO... i was going to go with an idea that pomni would be into mythology and stuff but now that i think about it, i actually see the opposite now thats more of something i can see zooble and gangle being into... not many ideas for pomni, unfortunately, but i think she would be friendly around you for manners
RAGATHA:
she thinks your really pretty, i think... while ragatha doesnt strike me as the type to be into mythology and stuff, i think she subconsciously is attracted to you because she grew up on stories about mermaids, fairies, and princesses... sure she doesnt remember all that since shes gotten stuck in the digital world, but the instinct to be near you is still there... i think if she got caught listening to you sing she would be so embarrassed, probably tries to excuse herself unless you tell her she can stay.. having someone come by down to the lake is nice, to finally have company
JAX:
has probably snagged your comb and darted to the shore of the lake far enough so that you cant reasonably crawl out of the water and grab it back, assuming you actively need water to survive instead of mobility... but either is really mean in my opinion.. toss him into the water/j actually i dont think he can swim, jax doesnt look like the kind of person to swim.. omg omg bonding moment for when you two get closer, imagine teaching him how to (admin never learned how to swim so theyre unqualified to write this </3)
KINGER:
rarely leaves the tent but lets say he goes down to the lake one day while you happen to be out.. similar to pomni i think he would mistake you for an NPC simply because you are almost never in the tent... i think he would enjoy your singing, though, very calming and it eases him.. quietly listens and returns a few times when he sees youre out. meek apologies when hes caught, hes almost sheepish about it and admits that he should have asked before getting up in your business.. ooo i love this man
ZOOBLE:
"so like, do you drown people," just straight up, probably asks this after a day of jax being more annoying than usual... as mentioned earlier i think they would be really into mythological creatures and lore, as well as cryptids, both before and after joining the circus... sure you probably arent lore accurate to mermaid stories in the real world, but i think they would like to learn about youre whole deal.. sometimes helps you get stuff out of your hair if things get tangled up
GANGLE:
gangle is what gets tangled up in your hair^/j
no but i think she would also be very interested in your whole deal, but is less blunt about it unlike zooble... also thinks your pretty.. i think she would bring stuff down to the lake for you guys to do together, like games and drawing stuff... its nice for the both of you to be away from everyone else but still have company in someone who knows what its like to be cast to the side; be it due to shyness or being locked to a place
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solo-pitstop-vibes · 1 month
Text
Rowing Pair
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Hiya! This is my first story in quite a while, so I hope you enjoy it. Part two coming soon!
......
One of Washington's rowing assistants takes a liking to Don Hume, and he takes a liking to her.
......
[no warnings]
Allie is late. She is normally 10 minutes early to her student job in the library, and now she only has a few minutes to spare and make it all the way across campus. Her heels clicked rapidly across the concrete, carrying her as fast as she could go. She wouldn’t resort to running… yet. Her mother would scold her for it being unladylike. However, this job is important. It paid her tuition at Washington State, and it allowed her to have an opportunity that she couldn’t normally afford. This, and the nursing assistant position with the rowing team.
Looking down at her watch, she read eight fifty-eight, as she climbed the steps into the library. Breathing a sigh of relief, Allie slowed her pace as she made her way behind the service desk.
“Morning Margie!”
Margie responds to the younger girl, “Everything okay this morning? You’re stepping a little hot.”
Allie places her things down in her cubby underneath the desk and stood to face the dark-haired girl. “Just missed the first bus this morning, knocked me off my routine. That’s all,” she sighs. Satisfied with her answer, the older girl nods and instructs Allie on her tasks for the morning.
After gathering what she needs, Allie sets off with her cart of returns and makes her way to the tall shelves to start her reorganization. Working quietly to herself, she hums softly as she works to place books back in their rightful place. She makes her way through several stacks when she makes her way to one of the last shelves in the row. As she rounds the corner, she finds a tall, broad, dark-haired student browsing the shelves, looking very clueless. Glancing at the small paper in his hand, his frown grows deeper.
“Do you need any help?”
The man’s head snaps to Allie, his eyes wide in shock, but he doesn’t speak. His hand raised, pointing inward at his chest as if to say me?
Allie giggles softly. Taking a few steps closer, she motions to the small paper in his hand, “I can help if you’d like.”
He nods quickly, gingerly handing over the paper to the smaller girl. Quickly reading the information, she determines he is on the wrong aisle. She motions for him to follow her, and she leads him to the previous aisle, walking right to the correct spot. Plucking the book from its spot on the shelf, she hands it and the library card to the young man.
He clears his throat, taking the book from her hands, “Thank you.”
“Of course. My name is Allie if you need anything else.”
“I’m Don,” the boy cracks a soft, crooked smile. Allie mirrors his smile,
“Nice to meet you, Don. I’ll be around if you need help again.”
With a small smile and a wave, Allie steps away, heading back to her cart of books. Leaving Don in between the shelves, thinking about how Allie had to be the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
Being an assistant for the rowing team had a few perks, one of which was a brand-new Washington State sweater, which Allie smooths down over her blouse as she exits Coach Ulbrickson’s office. Now wearing a pair of pants and sneakers, and her hair is held back by a thick headband to battle the wind coming off the water. This was not her first time at the row house, having spent the last few months with the varsity team. She was not new to rowing either.
Allie thanks Coach Bolles as he hands her a clipboard and a pencil. Her job is to help evaluate the health and athleticism of the young men trying out for the JV team. She would evaluate both on land and in Old Nero the training boat, to make sure she collected an accurate assessment. Stepping in line beside Coach Bolles and Coach Ulbrickson, she looks out at the sea of young men waiting patiently. There’s a short spill from Ulbrickson before the activities for today are called out.
“You’ll be divided into groups and rotate through training stations. As you work through these stations, we will be evaluating your performance, while Miss Allie here evaluates your health and technique.” Coach Bolles’s strong voice carries easily through the airy boathouse. “When you hear your number called, follow the coach.”
As the groups are called, Allie glances down at the names on her clipboard. Only one stands out.
Hume, Don #22
She couldn’t hide the small smile that crept to her face, as she quickly scanned the crowd looking for Don. Ever since their meeting in the library earlier that day, Allie could not stop thinking about him. Finally, she finds him in the crowd. The same frown from this morning is painted on his face.
Everyone scattered as soon as the groups were called, moving swiftly around the boathouse, and Allie lost sight of Don. Time to get to work, she thought. For the first half of training today Allie would be in the boathouse, observing the groups doing exercises. Walking slowly through the groups of young men, Allie takes notes on as many as she can as they do sit-ups, push-ups, and jacks. It’s a strong group, but there are far too many of them for the 8-man crew. Over the next few days, there would be a few that set themselves out among the rest. After several rotations, it was time for another group to take Old Nero out. Making her way to the boat dock, Coach Bolles and Coach Ulbrickson are waiting for the next group to settle in their seats. Allie notices Don towards the middle, lacing his feet on the stretchers. Now she had the chance to see him row. One of the other assistants helps her onto the front perch of the boat.
Looking up, she scans the rows taking a mental note of some of the familiar numbers as the boat is slowly taken out. Coach Bolles gives some quick instructions to those who had never crewed, and they set off down the water. After a few minutes of practice, Tom started laying into the young men, calling out,
“There’s four parts to a stroke, gentleman, not three, okay? Catch, drive, finish, and recovery!”
Allie was furiously jotting down notes about each rower, just glancing up when she needed to.
“You can’t skip any of ‘em, and you know why we’re not going in a straight line? ‘Cause number 22 here is the only one that’s listening to me!”
Allie’s head shoots up at Tom’s comment, her eyes quickly finding Don in the row of young men on the left. His head was straightforward, eyebrows creased in concentration. Coach Boles is right, his form was spot on, and he is keeping a perfect pace. She makes the note beside his name and number, a small smile sneaking its way onto her face.
Two weeks had passed since the first day of training camp, and this afternoon was one last gathering to announce the team. Yesterday, Allie turned in her final evaluations to the coaches, sharing her top 15. Of course, Don was included. All due to his ability, along with Rantz, Morris, and several others who had stood out. Allie had a feeling Bolles and Ulbrickson approved of her choices, but in the end, they had the power to choose who they wanted.
Allie and Don had not spoken in the last two weeks, and other than a few blushed glances at training, they had not seen each other outside of rowing. It had been hard to keep her little crush under wraps, but she had done well. Thankfully no one had caught her staring on the days they took the sculls out, she just couldn’t help it. Don propelled himself over the water with amazing precision and coordination, and he looked damn good doing it.
This morning’s scull practice with the varsity team was the opposite, a complete snooze. It made Allie even more anxious to see the new crew besides the varsity one. Thankfully, her day would be preoccupied before this afternoon’s announcement, keeping her nerves at bay. Between classes, her library job, and the rowing team, she barely had time to breathe, but she liked keeping busy. The library is where she found herself after crew practice this morning.
Humming lightly to herself, Allie busies herself with some homework. Margie was tasked with putting the returned books back today, leaving Allie behind the front desk. Immersed in her notebook for some time, she doesn’t look up until she hears someone softly clear their throat. Her head snapped up, a smile blossoming on her face when she saw Don in front of her.
“Hi, Don! What can I help you with today?”
A large hand slides his book across the desk, “I need to re-check this out. Not quite done with it yet.” The boy shrugs. Allie nods, flipping open the cover and stamping the new due date in its designated spot. Sliding his book back across the counter, she looks to him again,
“Are you anxious about the crew announcement today?”
Don gives several little, small nods in quick succession. “Very. There’s a lot of guys going for it,” he breathes out. Allie props her head in one hand,
“Well, Don, I don’t think you should be too nervous. You’re outperforming almost everyone, and you’ve got a very good chance. I’ve not seen someone row like you in a long time, you’ve got great rhythm on the water.”
A blush flares up Don’s neck, a shy smile following, “Thank you, Allie. I’ll, uh, see you this afternoon, then?”
“I’ll be there,” Allie’s shy smile mirrored Don’s. He gives her a small wave before turning and making his way out of the library.
“Gentlemen, I want to thank you all for comin’ out and giving your best effort. Every single one of you left standing has performed admirably. Unfortunately, only a few of you can be chosen to continue,” Ulbrickson speaks to all the anxious young men standing in the boathouse. His tone is soft but carries easily through the quiet building. “Coach Bolles,” Al hands the attention over to Tom. Tom held up his notebook and started reading the names off, in no particular order,
“Hume, Hunt, McMillin, Day, Morris, White, Adam, Rantz. Coy, you’re the reserve.”
A flash from a camera accompanied each name, capturing the group. A few reporters are scrambling to write all the names down. Allie is tickled, her predictions were spot on. The boys who made the team gather amongst the group, congratulating each other as the other young men, who didn’t make the team, filter out of the boathouse.
Allie stays in her spot on the wooden steps, waiting for the boys to disperse. Catching Don’s gaze, she gives him a toothy grin and a cheeky wink, as if to say I told you so. A sheepish smile finds its way to Don’s face, but only for a split second before he’s whisked away with the group to take a group picture. Al and Tom follow along with the boys for the picture, but Allie stays put. Tom already knows what she’s thinking from their few short months of working together, calling out over his shoulder, “Come on, Allie! You’re a part of the team too!”
“Oh! Coming!” Allie exclaims, scrambling down the steps to catch up with everyone. Tom knew Allie was struggling to see herself as an asset to the team, that’s why she was included in the evaluations for the crew decisions. Even as a first-year nurse, she already knew things that senior nursing students were still learning, and Al and Tom learned that early on. When they posted the assistant position, no one applied except Allie. She applied with extreme enthusiasm, despite being fairly shy when sharing her knowledge. She knew nursing almost as well as she knew rowing. Growing up with a father who rowed at Cal, he had taught her everything, and she had a keen eye for technique.
Catching up with the coaches, Allie maneuvers herself on the very end of the group beside the coaches. For the next few minutes, several photographs are taken, and they’re all released for the day. The boys head to the locker room to change, the coaches retreat to the office, and Allie gathers her things. Heading out to the dock where the crew launches from, she takes off her shoes and socks and rolls up her pant legs. Slipping her feet into the water, Allie pulls out a book and flips to where she left off. After a short time, soft footsteps hit the dock behind her.
“Mind if I join you?” Don’s soft voice rings out. Allie shakes her head, a soft smile tugging on her lips,
“I don’t mind at all.”
Don toes off his shoes and socks and rolls up his slacks like Allie had earlier. Sliding his feet into the water, he leans back on his hands. Allie closes her book and turns towards Don, mirroring his position to one side. Her voice is soft, almost timid,
“Congratulations on making the team, you deserve it. You’ve got a lot of talent.”
“Thank you, it’s a huge relief. Don’t have to worry about as much now with tuition and the part-time job and all that.”
Allie heart clenches, she knows that feeling too well. “I understand. Without the rowing team or the library job, I wouldn’t be able to attend. These last few years have been tough on everyone.”
Don clears his throat, “They have, but something tells me things are turning around for the better.”
Allie is already looking at Don when he glances over at her. She’s quick to look away, playing with the hem of her sweater, trying to fight the blush rising to her cheeks. The two fall into a peaceful silence, Allie returning to her book and Don flipping his open. The one she helped him find. Sitting for an hour or so, only a few soft words were spoken in between pages as the sun dipped in the sky.
Finally, Allie closed her book, slipping it into her bag, “Well, we’re losing reading light. Might be our cue.” Don nodded, and both slipped their shoes back on. Don makes it to his feet first. Reaching down to Allie, he offers his hand to help her up. Blushing furiously, Allie graciously takes his hand. Now standing, Don still towers over Allie’s short frame, their hands still linked together.
“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”
The pair starts the trek back towards the dormitories, hands swaying softly as they walk. After a few beats, Don speaks up,
“What got you into rowing? From what I can tell, you seem to know a lot about it.”
“My father rowed at Cal and kept with it as a hobby afterward. He would take me out as a child and teach me everything he knew. He’s very happy I’m an assistant, even though it’s not at Cal,” Allie explains.
Don nods, “Do you think you’ll be able to see them at the Cal meet?”
Allie shrugs, “Hopefully. I haven’t written to them yet about attending, but I’m sure my father will at least come, if both my parents can’t. What about your family? Do you think they’ll come to a meet?”
“I don’t really have anyone anymore, I started taking care of myself a long time ago,” Don sighs, eyes drifting to his feet. Squeezing his hand gently, Allie reassures him,
“Well, you’ve got the crew now. They’re all you need, and they’ll always have your back.”
A shy smile creeps up on Don’s face, hesitating on his next words, “You’re right.”
No more is said until the pair step up to the doorstep of Allie’s dormitory. They stopped awkwardly, not sure of what to do or say next, and not really wanting their walk to end. Allie acts first, softly unlacing her fingers with Don’s and turning to him,
“Thank you for walking me back. I’ll see you in the morning at practice?”
“I’ll be there,” Don smiles, mimicking their conversation from earlier in the day. Allie giggles at his response, catching his joke.
Leaning up, Allie presses a quick kiss to his cheek, “Goodnight, Don.”
“Goodnight, Allie.”
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int-writersmind · 5 months
Text
The Quid Pro Quo
Paring: College! Peter Parker x Reader (reader's an English major)
Summary: On a rainy night, sparks fly when the two of you exchange notes on each others classwork.
Word Count: 2.1k
Genre: Fluff
authors note: hey, I might be a recent college graduate, doesn't mean everything is accurate ok? 🤭
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Light rain taps against the window of Empire State University's library windows. You find yourself alone on the second floor at a table, wanting to tear your hair out over your Physics homework.
It was Friday night, the library was practically empty since most students were out partying or at the very least not thinking about their classwork. You, on the other hand, had made a deal with a fellow student to help one another on each’s work, a classic quid pro quo. You, an English major, were gonna exchange helpful notes on your classmate's Frankenstein paper that was due Monday, and he, in return, would help you prepare for your Physics test the following Tuesday. It was a great idea, brilliant even, if only Peter Parker weren’t running late. 
You check your phone one more time before standing up and stretching your legs. You walk over to the big gothic looking window your table was next to, glancing at the rain smacking into the glass.
God, there were so many things you could have been doing right now instead of standing here like a young wife waiting for her husband to return from the sea. Like curling up with a nice book, with a hot cup of your favorite beverage, getting lost in whatever world and-
“Sorry I’m late!” came a familiar voice.
You turn and see that Peter Parker had decided to finally make an appearance after all. With your arms crossed, you watch as he quickly runs up the steps, tripping and almost falling while doing so. “I was starting to think you died or something.” You say quite sarcastically.
“Oh much worse,” Peter says, “Subway delays.” As you return to your seat, Peter sits on the other side, quickly taking out his own laptop and notebook. “What should we start on?”
“I don’t know if I can stand anymore Physics right now,” You glance at your phone,  A Daily Bugle notification on top: Spider-Man v Lizard! Havoc on the A-Line!. You swipe it away, maybe it was better to go straight to the dorms after this. “Let’s just start on this Frankenstein paper since it’s much more open-ended.”
“Boo, I hate open ended,” Peter turns on his laptop, “At least with science everything can be quantified.”
“What about theories huh?”
“Theories can be backed up or disproven! English, it’s-it’s sooo subjective.” Peter sighs, “What do you mean the blue curtains represent depression! I have blue curtains, but not because I’m depressed but because they were on sale!”
“Ha-ha, like I haven’t heard that before” You shake your head and roll your eyes, “So, let’s see what you have. Wait, maybe it’s better if I-” You get up from your seat and walk over to sit on the chair next to Peter. “That’s better, now we can look at the screen together.”
Peter places one arm on the back of your chair, no thought really behind it. You pause for a moment before fake coughing, re-focusing on the screen in front of you.
 Peter was one year older and the two of you met at an English course, Literature by Women, a gen-ed for him but a required class for you. You got to know each other the first week of the semester when your Professor assigned partner work to go through a set of poems. Ever since then the two of you would occasionally text each other with simple questions about class. That’s when you found out Peter was in a higher track for Physics and became an absolute annoyance when it came to questions. But Peter always lent a hand and never with any bitterness. 
“You ok?” Peter asks.
You look at Peter whose face reads concern, “Yeah, just a little tired that’s all. Long day.” You turn back to the screen glancing at the title and opening lines of Peter’s paper.
“Ugh same,” groans Peter, “I got so caught up with something, I forgot to eat lunch”
“Oh, I think I have something.” You stop a few lines into the first paragraph, reaching over the table to grab your bag on top, you dig inside until you find half of a sandwich that you bought earlier. “Here, I didn’t know this sandwich had tomatoes and I just find them disgusting.” You make a face of disgust that causes a small laugh to come from Peter.
“You know you can always just take the tomatoes off right?”
“What about the tomato juices?” You say, “The remnant of the tomato never goes away!” You make a huge swapping gesture, “Do you want the damn sandwich or not?”
He puts his hands up in fake surrender, “Ok, ok.”
Peter takes his arm off the back of your chair scooting closer to the table before digging into the sandwich. You settle into reading Peter’s paper about the ethics of Dr. Frankenstein. 
~
“Ok…ok, what you have so far it’s…”
“Horrible..terrible–” Peter sighs.
You turn and gently smack Peter on the arm, “Oh shut up,” You say, “It’s a good foundation, clear thesis, your paragraphs for the most part support it–”
“But…”
“But,” You widen your eyes and make a face. “You focus too much on the actual science of everything going on, focus more on the emotional. Victor uses the Creature for his own selfish desire not only for scientific exploration.”
“You got all of that from my paper?”
“More or less,” You turn your attention back to the computer screen, scrolling over the paper again. “See, anyone can write a thorough paper if they put their mind to it.”
“And…anyone can pass Physics if they put their mind to it as well. Let’s switch topics.”
“Oh, god no,” You say. “The greatest weakness of English majors…Science!”
You lean back as if you were fake fainting, a little too far back as you almost tip over in your seat, but Peter catches your arm just in time. “Woah there Faint-y, can lose you yet.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” Peter closes his laptop, and grabs his notebook, you hand him your Professor given study guide. Peter glances at the document, nodding and shaking his head at certain terms. “Ok little English major, time to blow your mind with some science!”
“Certainly, but not in the way you're imagining.”
Peter just rolls his eyes and points to one of the first lines in the study guide that you're underlining and adding several question marks to. “Let’s start here.”
Your little tipping incident sent your chair slightly further away from Peter’s than earlier. With the underside of his hand, he pulls your chair, and you, closer to him. This causes you to hitch your breath. “Pete you gotta stop doing that.” You joke.
Peter doesn’t look up from the paper. “Stop doing what?”
You huff and glance away before looking back at him. “God are you purposely annoying or just clueless?”
Peter finally looks at you, a slight smile on his face, “I just need you close to me…to-to, uh, to explain this concept. Obviously.”
“Yeah,” You blow a raspberry. “Obviously.”
~
You groan, letting your head fall into your hands on top of the table, “I’m resigned to the fact that I might have to drop out of Physics.”
“No, don't! Physics is super fun!” Peter says with a little bit too much enthusiasm.
You peek one eye through your fingers, “Pete, I don’t think we’re working on the same frequency.” 
“Ok, well I have a totally funny Physics joke for you,” Peter readies himself, “What did the male magnet say to the female magnet? Seeing you from the back, I thought you were repulsive. But seeing you from the front, I find you rather attractive.”
You pick your head up and lightly punch Peter in the arm, “You’re lucky you’re cute, because I’m already–Ah, spider!”
A modest size brown spider crawls out of reach from your hand on the table. You reflexively go to swat at it but Peter catches your hand before you could do so. You glance at Peter’s hand on yours rather than at him. He quickly lets go of your hand before he goes and picks up the spider ever so gently.
You follow him as he walks over to the window, the rain slowing down. He cracks open the window, urging the bug outside. You lean against the other side of the window, arms crossed over your chest, you can’t help it when a dry laugh escapes your mouth, “Sorry, but are you secretly some kind of spider-whisper.”
“Hmm,” Peter closes the window, “Maybe. Just looking out for the little guy I suppose.”
You can’t help but smile, truly genuine this time. You reach out and take one of Peter’s hands. “Come on, I think we’ve earned a break.”
You pull Peter by the hand, taking a second to close his laptop, and throwing your jacket over everything on the table. You turn around, switching what hand is holding on to Peter’s. You continue down one path weaving up and down other bookshelves, passing empty tables, you make a sudden turn down an aisle letting go of Peter’s hand. You trail your fingers over the spines of the books, as Peter follows behind you, hands in his pocket. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you stand in front of a window, the rainstorm continuing on. “I actually find rainstorms to be rather romantic.” You say.
“The Shelly kind or the Valentine kind?” Peter says, leaning against the bookshelf.
“Both.” You peek back, a smirk playing on your lips. You walk over to Peter, standing with just enough space for someone to squeeze through.
“Not so romantic when you’re caught up in it.” Peter glances at the window, then at you. “I’ve been caught…too many times.”
“So have I,” You step a little closer, testing the waters, Peter doesn’t react. “But you have to admit there’s something, I don’t know, intimate, about being sheltered in place, with just one other person. Like under an umbrella, or the awning of some corner store bodega–”
“Or in-between bookshelves at your college’s library?” Peter’s hand comes up to gently grasp your hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with one another. He pulls you in close, in between his legs. You place your other hand on his chest to prevent yourself from falling. “I might not be an English major but I think I can read between the lines.”
“And if I wasn’t so tired, I would totally come up with a Physics joke.” You response, your face flush red. 
He brings his other hand to your face, his palm resting on your cheek, his fingers slowly disappearing into the nape of your hair. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Hmm, maybe…let me ask you one question?” You say.
“Shoot.”
“Can I kiss you first?”
Peter smiles, then nods. You bring the hand that was on his chest upwards, sliding up his neck, until your own hand is entangled in his hair. You close your eyes and lean forward, pressing your lips ever so gently to his. He pauses for a moment before kissing you back, slowly, taking his time. His lips felt soft against your own, warm and comforting, even if you could still taste the tomatoes from earlier. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.
“What is it?” Peter says between kisses.
You move away just a little, you quickly peck him on the lips, once, twice–”It doesn’t really matter.”
Peter deepens the kiss, bringing both hands to hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin beneath them. You loop both your arms around his neck, letting your body fall into his, your chest pressing against his. His tongue enters your mouth and it falls in rhythm with yours, dancing an unseen dance. 
The two of you stop for a moment, foreheads resting on one another. “You know I’m still dropping Physics right?” You say through closed eyes and heavy breathing.
“Then I’ll keep kissing you until you change your mind.” Peter answers.
He holds you in his arms as he stands up fully, keeping his grip on you tight as he kisses you again. One of his hands drifts to your bottom, an open hand just resting on top of your clothing.
“Oh Parker,” You whisper. “Not as innocent as you look.”
“You have no idea…” 
He buries his head into your neck, placing kisses up and down that make your eyes roll back. “We should…we should definitely continue this study session back at my dorm…since you know… the library closes soon.”
“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter says as he now moves on to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. 
You break away from him, pushing him back ever so lightly, taking his hand in yours. You lead him down the aisle, half-walking, half running. 
“Come on, I still have a Physics test to pass”
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Hey there, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. If you like this consider checking out my other fluff-y story Potential Customer . Goodbye Void!
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