#god i just want all the interactions between the captains

[kirknspock]

why is this always my favorite dynamic jdksfdf

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4

-----------

That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity. 

But he couldn't be further than wrong 

Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.

—-----------------

“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.

“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning  isn’t your forte.

“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence. 

So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared. 

—--------------

“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.

“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.

“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.

“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.

“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.

“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.

“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.

“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.

“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.

“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.

“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.

“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.

“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.

“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.

“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.

—-----------

So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.

One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.

It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.

John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.

You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable. 

“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder. 

“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.

John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?

—-------------

“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.

“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.

You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.

“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.

“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.

“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.

“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.

“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.

“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.

“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.

“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room. 

You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.

—----------

You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.

“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.

“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.

“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.

“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.

“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.

“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say. 

“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame. 

“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.

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

comments and reposts and appreicated <3

thankyou for all the love on this story so far.

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01

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[widowbitessting]

Sugar Mommies Season 2, Pt:6

Polite Reminder That All My Work - Especially For Sugar Mommies - Is 18+! Minors Do Not Interact.

“Hey darling, are you busy?”

You look up at Carol with a glare, pink barbie toothbrush in your sweaty palm; white bristles blackened from the grout you were being made to clean. 

You bite back the urge to swear at her, instead opting to force a toothy smile to your face. 

“Not really no, why?”

Carol, ever so smug, leans against the door frame with her arms crossed. 

“Are you sure, kitten? You seemed hard at work when I came in.”

“What do you want, Carol?” You can’t help the bite in your words. 

You’re really not in the mood.

“Oh stop pouting, princess; you earned this punishment yourself.”

She may have a point there. 

Carol continues on, “I warned you not to push me. And what did you do?”

“I didn’t listen, obviously.”

“Lose the attitude or I’ll have you clean the sidewalk too.”

“…sorry.”

A raised eyebrow makes you continue your apology. 

“Sorry Captain, I’ll stop being a brat.”

“There’s my good girl.” Carol crouches in front of you, balancing perfectly on the tip of her toes. You really have to fight the temptation to push her over. 

God. Your inner brat is thriving. 

“Tell me, my good thing. When do your classes finish?”

You brush some loose strands of hair from your glistening forehead. 

“Finish? For break?” 

“No love, when do you finish for the weekend?” 

“Oh!” 

“And did I say you could stop working? You’re still in your punishment, darling.” 

You automatically go back to scrubbing, pushing the bristles of the toothbrush into the cracks between the tiles a little more harder than needed.

“Answer the question, baby. I know that dumb brain struggles to comprehend simple questions sometimes but c’mon; I know you can do it.” 

“I…” You have to wrack your brain to think, “Wednesday. I think. I’m sure my Friday classes are cancelled.” 

“Think you can find out before the end of the day for me baby girl?” 

You look up at Carol and nod. 

“Sure. Why the rush?”

“I’m thinking of whisking you away after your last class until Monday. Does that sound good?” 

“A holiday?” 

“A mini one, yes.” 

You jump up and grab Carol into a hug, toothbrush clattering to the floor behind you.

She wraps her arms firmly around you.

“Where are we going?” 

“Do you really want me to tell you or do you want it to be a surprise?”

You don’t do well with surprises. 

At all.

“Just tell me!” You pause. “Please.” 

“Such a good girl, using her manners.” Carol presses a kiss to your nose. “I’m taking you to go and see Nat and Wanda.” 

You squeal so loudly you’re sure only dogs can hear it. 

Carol seems to be prepared for it as she doesn’t wince, instead choosing to grin down at you. 

You’re all but vibrating with excitement.

“We’re going to see them?!”

“Yes, sugar. Thought the news would cheer you up. Get you to stop pouting.”

“I wasn’t…” You trail off, fighting the urge to push out your bottom lip.

“Yes you were, my darling. Such a pouty little baby, hmm?”

She’s doing this deliberately. 

You’re already in trouble - your current predicament proves this - and Carol probably has another two, if not three, punishments already thought out. 

You’re really stumped at how to reply. 

Mercifully, Carol decides she has toyed with you enough.

“How about this: the sooner you finish your punishment, the sooner you can speak to Natasha and Wanda. I’m about to go and call them to discuss our trip…it’d be a shame if you were too busy pouting and being grumpy to speak to them, wouldn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Get scrubbing, little girl.” 

“But I’ve only done half!” 

“Scrub fast.” 

She leaves you and the bathroom and you can only stare after her.

A second later, you hear her shout, “They have a present for you too, bunny!”

You perk up at the mere mention of a gift. 

“A present?” You call out, peering out of the doorway as Carol saunters away.

“Mhm. although, if you’re not there on the call with them then they might just return it…” 

You know she’s lying.

Heck, a toddler would be able to tell she’s lying. 

“You’re bluffing.” 

Carol turns to look at you. 

Her face is smug. 

So.

Freaking.

Smug.

“Try me sugar; see where that gets you.”

*

It’s safe to say, you never want to clean grout ever again. 

Your knees are throbbing, back sore like an 80 year old woman who's worked every day of her life; and you’ve cracked enough nails to know that Carol can pay for your next manicure appointment. 

You might even throw a pedicure and a chiropractic appointment in there too. 

But does that stop you barrelling out of the bathroom at full speed, with the toothbrush clattering behind you?

No. 

It does not. 

When you stumble into the room, Carol is saying her goodbyes and is about to press the hang up button.

“I’m here!”

“Timing on that, baby girl; you almost lost your present.”

You go to tear her phone from her hand but Carol moves it just out of your reach.

“Say please.”

“Please, Captain.”

“Good girl,” she pecks your cheek and hands you the phone. “You talk to them and I’ll inspect your work. Make sure you didn’t cheat and take any shortcuts.”

“I’m offended you’d ever assume I’d do that.”

The smirk on your face makes Carol roll her eyes and tap your nose. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay! The bathroom is glistening.” You say. “Take your shoes off!”

The faint “No!” has you giggling as you place Carol’s phone against your ear.

“Hi!”

“Well hello, naughty girl.” Natasha’s voice fills your ear. 

Your smile is officially cemented to your face. 

“I -”

There really isn’t any point in denying it.

“Yeah.”

Natasha tuts at you. 

“My, my, what are we going to do with you, hmm? A good grout scrubbing is a fairly decent punishment…but I know for a fact if I asked you to FaceTime us right now…you’d be smiling. You haven’t learnt your lesson, have you, kitten?”

“…I have…kind of.”

“Mhm. That really is believable.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Then switch this to a FaceTime kitten. Prove me wrong.” 

Those final three words really are like the nail in your coffin. 

They grate down your bratty side, taunting and teasing you, and it makes your eye twitch. 

There’s no denying that Natasha did it purposely. 

In fact, you know she did. 

She knows how it works on you. 

Knows that you’ll be her good little submissive and do as she says.

Natasha knows you better than yourself at times.

Which is why, the second you press the FaceTime icon on the screen, you know you’ve made a huge mistake.

Natasha’s perfectly beautiful face comes into view, as does Wanda’s.

You can see them.

And they can see you.

Your eyes automatically lower in submission, smile sliding off your face. 

It doesn’t go unmissed by Natasha, eyebrow raising slightly as a smug smirk forms on her lips.

“Well, hello there, little brat.” 

“Hi…”

“Use my title.”

Your brain takes a second to buffer.

“Your…huh?” You risk a peek up and quickly look away again.

“My title. Just like I trained you to do.”

“...daddy.”

“Now use it in a sentence. Go on, kitten.” 

“..hi daddy.”

“There we go, pet. That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Natasha says, “we miss you, pumpkin.” 

All humiliation is quickly forgotten.

“I miss you two, too.” 

“But we will see you soon!” Wanda shouts, jumping up and down. “Wednesday, Carol says.”

“That’s in like 3 days!” You let out an excited squeal and flop down onto the bed, your h/c hair fanning out around your head. “I don’t think I can wait that long.” 

“Well there might be something to help…ease your tension, baby girl.” Natasha says. “Check under the bed for me?” 

You had completely forgotten about the gift.

“Oh!” 

You leave them on the bed as you dive underneath, snatching the gift bag before resurfacing with it clamped tightly in your hands. 

“I love presents!” 

“We know you do, baby.” Natasha smiles.

“Open it, I can’t wait to see what you think!” Ever Wanda the impatient one. 

You tear into, gift paper soaring over your head and as you reach into the bag, you tilt your head in confusion. 

“What is it?”

You inspect the wrapped package.

“It’s a toy.” Natasha says.

“A toy?” 

Looking back at this moment, you’re ashamed of how long it takes your brain to connect the dots and figure out what kind of toy it is. 

“What? Like a My Little Pony?” 

“No but it’s something else you can ride.” Wanda says with such a straight face, her joke washes over you.

“Oookay…” 

You tear the paper open and all but drop the box as if it electrocutes you, when your eyes see the word ‘g-spot’. 

“Oh my god.”

You’re red. Blushing crimson as you hastily cover your face and let out an embarrassed laugh. 

“You owe me $5.” Wanda says smugly. “I knew she wouldn’t act cocky.”

“Is that what I think it is?” You mumble, still hiding behind your hands.

“A sex toy?” Natasha says. “Yes, yes it is. We want you to try it out for us. Now.” 

That makes you peek up through your fingers. 

“Now?” 

“Yes, baby. Now. We haven’t had the time to play with you in so long. We miss you.” 

“I - I miss you but, on camera?” 

“You can do that for us, can’t you?” Natasha is staring at you. “If you’re uncomfortable, remember your signals, my love.”

“I - I’m okay, I just…”

“Shy?” Wanda asks. 

You look at the toy again and can’t help but smile in embarrassment. 

“...yeah…” 

“It’s just us, baby girl.” Wanda says. “You’re with us, you’re safe.” 

“Why don’t you open the box, hmm?” Natasha suggests, “have a look at what we got you.”

Your hands are shaking. 

Because why wouldn’t they?

The item is pink. 

Soft to touch, incredibly soft in fact. 

You keep the toy on your lap, so the two women watching you intently can’t see it.

“It’s big.” 

“It’ll fit, don’t worry. Once you’re worked up and ready to take it, it’ll fit.” 

“Can you read the name out for me?” Natasha asks.

You quickly look up and meet their eyes. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m selfish and I love to see my baby girl blush, that’s why.”

You push your face into your hands in an attempt to hide. 

“The G -” 

“Nu-uh.” Natasha stops you. “Let us see that beautiful face.” 

You shake your head.

“No?” 

You shake your head again.

“Look at me and say no. Go on, detka.” 

“I…can’t.”

“And why not?” 

“‘Cos…” 

“Wow, such a good reply. Stumped us there, baby girl.” Wanda’s reply makes you smirk, even though you try your hardest not to. 

“Now you’re ignoring orders?” Natasha’s voice wipes the smirk clean off your face. “Look at me and repeat what you said. Last chance, Y/N.”

“Hey!” Your head snaps up and you shoot the redhead a glare before quickly looking away. “Don’t full name me!” 

“She just did, sugar. Answer her. Now.”

You - somehow - manage to drag your eyes to Natasha and for one brief second, you hold her gaze.

And then quickly look down. 

Submitting. 

“That’s what I thought.” Natasha licks her lips. “Now show your doms your beautiful face so we can see that pretty little blush.”

You do as you’re told, even if your bottom lip is sticking out a little. 

“There she is.” Natasha smiles. “Our blushing beauty.” 

“I’m not b -” You sigh. “Okay, fine, I am.”

“And we love it.” Wanda says. “Think you can read it out for us?”

“Signal in, detka.” Natasha orders. 

“Green…I’m just…”

“Shy, we know, my love, we know. But you’re okay. If you don’t want to read it out you don’t have to.” 

“I want to. Believe me, I do.”

“Go for it then, sweetie. At your own pace.” 

“The…um…the G-Spot Massager…” 

“God, you’re such a good girl.” Natasha coos. “You did so well for us, honey.” 

“Do you think you wanna try it out for us?” Wanda asks. 

You meet their eyes.

“Yes.” 

[dungeonpuppykai]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'. 

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break! 

.

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit. 

Until now. 

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire. 

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him. 

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no. 

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime. 

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact. 

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter. 

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness  

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose. 

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to. 

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more. 

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more. 

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers. 

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh. 

Of course. 

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had. 

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her. 

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane. 

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes. 

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible. 

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.  

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him. 

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered. 

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing. 

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine. 

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose. 

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly. 

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger. 

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?" 

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower. 

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day. 

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment. 

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin. 

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise." 

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists. 

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further. 

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin. 

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant. 

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her. 

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat. 

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy. 

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes. 

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before. 

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?" 

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!" 

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse. 

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew. 

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder. 

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?" 

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There. 

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.  

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest. 

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts. 

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side. 

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment. 

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards. 

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond. 

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last. 

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock. 

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already. 

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler. 

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew. 

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner. 

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds. 

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?"  She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh. 

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming. 

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this… 

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take. 

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what. 

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure. 

A lady that he had found at last. 

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already. 

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.  

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety. 

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased. 

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter. 

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought. 

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the  renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone. 

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink. 

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please." 

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.  

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha." 

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

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Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[veala2]

✦ “ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜꜱɪɴɢ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ.” ✦

fluff (angst?) prompt: “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

SYNOPSIS - It was your choice, and he didn’t like it. After coming back from helping your allies in Wholecake, tensions grow between you and your captain and your interactions become awkward. The now freed Wano gives you and Law the chance to speak to one another and express both of your true feelings.

CW - spoilers! mentions of stuff from Wholecake to the end of Wano, gn!reader, usage of “Y/N”, mentions of arguments, reader fights off and kills a beast, mention of fainting, holy this is a lot more angsty than I imagined.

A/N - Sorry guys, a lot is happening in my life rn so if I’m not posting that much that is why. Hope you all enjoy this :))

To say your captain is always stressed is like saying a cat likes milk. It’s just so common. Unfortunately, Law’s stress levels currently were as common as a pig that can fly.

The Heart Pirates made it to Wano just a week prior. You’d decided to follow the handful of strawhats to Whole Cake to help them retrieve their friends and the poneglyph that Big Mom kept in her protective castle.

Much to your captains dismay, to say the least. The two of you fought before you left. He hadn’t wanted you to leave, and you wanted to do something to help with your friend's crew.

Words were said. He argued the strawhats as not being their friend, and how you should “join them if you loved them so much” while storming off. Leaving you saddened and upset. As the mission went on, you couldn’t help but worry for your crew.

Well… more for your captain than crewmates.

Due to the strong currents of Wano upstream entrance, you crash landed in the country and were now searching for your crew in an attempt to keep yourself out of any danger. Which was a lot trickier than you imagined, being that you were venturing through a forest that was packed with dangerous animals. Leading you to your current situation.

“Take this!” You exclaimed, taking your weapon and striking the creature. It screeches in pain, dropping to the ground and effectively disabling it for good.

You take a second to breath, walking up to the beast and dealing the finishing blow. The rush of adrenaline slowed and you steadied your heart rate. All of a sudden, you hear a loud sound of feet coming towards you. Without a second thought you ripped the weapon from its place from the beast's corpse. Ready to attack. When the threat you had thought was completely different.

“Y/N! IT’S US! DON’T ATTACK!” Called a voice that you had remembered. You jumped with joy as you ran over to your crews very own first mate, Bepo. As he wrapped his soft body around you in joy.

“Bepo! Oh my god- I missed you so much!” You gushed. From behind, Sachi and Penguin came up and hugged you tightly as well. It wasn't long before your captain came.

“Captain…” You mumbled. He kept his gaze on you, a frown displayed prominently on his face. Though, you could make out a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Law was always a very proud man. Things not going his way would be difficult for him, and he’d say and do stuff he soon regrets later. He has his faults for sure. But he always made up for his mistakes. In his own Law way.

His silver eyes looked you up and down. You couldn’t help but notice his hands that slightly shook. It was clear his eyebags had gotten heavier and darker since last you saw him. You wondered if it was because of the plan or you.

Before you could say anything, he walked up close towards your direction. Your heart rate increases once again. His arm reached up, causing you to close your eyes in a knee jerk reaction. After a couple of seconds you opened your eyes. Only to find your captain holding out a leaf in front of you, and a lingering feeling of a hand in your hair.

“You had something in your hair.” He states, tossing the leaf aside. A blush came on your face, and you awkwardly laughed.

“Ah. yeah, I guess so. Thanks, captain.” You sputtered. Walking away, you turn your head back to your captain talking to Bepo.

He turns his head to you, and your eyes lock together for a second before the both of you let go. A sinking feeling surfacing in your stomach. It felt bad… but also felt good. A confusing feeling for sure.

Trafalgar Law was at a standstill. For one, he had a pounding headache and his stress levels almost made him feel nauseous. At the same time, he felt funny at the sight of seeing you again. He couldn’t tell if he was happy or upset.

It was just a confusing feeling for sure.

The war was over.

After days of preparing, planning and fighting, the country of Wano was free and it was the perfect time to party and rest.

At the sound of Kaido defeated, you fainted. The fight took everything out of you. You had awoken to the sound of your friends cries for you to wake. And it had taken a moment before you realised you weren't dead, and your crew was cheering with joy and not fear.

After wandering around you had caught your captain. Sat upon an engawa that viewed the entirety of the Flower Capital in its joyous and festive mood.

He sat with his clean kimono and usual hat put off to the side. Letting you gaze at the back of his raven hair. He seemed content with his relaxed gaze peering over the city.

With caution, you waltzed over to him and lounged next to him. Not saying a word. He glanced over in your direction.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re awake.” He says, surprised. You keep your mouth shut and keep on looking ahead. He starts again, taking a long breath before.

“Y’know, those idiots wouldn't stop crying about you. They kept asking if you were awake every five minutes. God, they’re so annoying…”

You figured he was talking about Bepo, Sachi and Penguin. As they burst into tears at the sight of you awake and well.

“The whole country is celebrating after everything. It’s ironic how they’re the same people who supported the bastard.” He comments, with a scoff.

“I can still feel the pain from before. All that planning and strategizing went to waste thanks to Strawhat- ya’s idiocy. What would he know about a good plan? He invited you to go on that stupid rescue mission.”

“God, I was so furious when you left. You were reckless, stupid and a fool. So adamant about “helping a friend” and “doing it for us”. You didn’t have to prove that you were a good person by leaving.”

“You have no idea how worried I was. For our plan to work, for us to come out of this alive… for you. I’m still a little shaken from everything.”

“Why did you leave us? I’m still…”

“Damn it, Y/N, will you say something!?”

He asks, loudly and with a hint of anger behind his eyes. Along with another hint of sadness. You couldn't help but smile at his silvery eyes as they tried to pierce through your own. But with no avail.

Your hand went up, a finger pointing towards his messy, black hair. You giggle.

“You have something in your hair, um… do you want me to get it out?” You ask, smiling.

A small blush forms on his pale blue cheeks, stretching out to the very tips to his ears. He slowly nods and lets you gently remove the pale pink sakura petal out. A stark contrast to his hair. You giggle once more and with a soft blow, you watch the petal fall down to the restless crowd below. Disappearing into the Flower Capital.

“And this time I asked.” Adding on with the question. Making him embarrassingly scoff and look away. Like a little boy.

“Yeah, thanks…” He mumbles, crossing his arms together.

Without hesitation, you scooch in closer towards him and rest a head on his shoulder. Mainly to test the waters to see what he’ll do. Law tenses, but lets you do what you please. A shaky breath leaving him.

“Law, listen,” You start, gaining his attention by him turning his head to you, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know how much stress I put you under, really. The guys wouldn’t stop talking about it. And- for the record- you weren’t the only one worried. I couldn’t leave the thought of something happening to you in the back of my head.”

His eyes widened. Not leaving your illuminated face. You look over to him, smiling.

“And… for the record again, I was mainly worried about you. You and your stupidly cute worried face.”

A pregnant pause took hold. You wondered if you said something wrong, your heart skipping a beat. Glancing over, you guessed a not so pleased Law. But instead, you were given a captain with a smile. A growing and bright smile.

“God, that’s so stupid. Just like your stupidly cute face, too.” He says, repeating your last sentence in a way that made you playfully nudge him in the shoulder.

The two of you spent the night together just sitting and watching the night progress. After your confessions, everything seemed to go so smoothly. Laughing at your friends partying and tripping while under the influence. It made you feel like parents, in a sense. Watching over your stumbling kids. Law takes a long breath before speaking again.

“Please don’t leave me again, Y/N. I love you too much to lose you.”

“I love you too much to make you worry. So, don’t worry about it, Captain.”

[bibiwrld]

Nerdy Loser Anakin Skywalker!—First meet!

Pairing: Nerdy loser Anakin! x Black fem oc!

Content: 18+ (Minors DNI!)

Author’s note: I’m super fixated on Anakin Skywalker/Hayden Christensen right now and @nymphomatique nerdy Miguel O’Hara works inspired this. You can send asks about Anakin in this college au 🫶🏾💋

Anakin Skywalker. That name sorta rang a bell to Sydnee, she wasn’t all that familiar with him. He was in one or two of her classes, but they’ve never interacted. He was a friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend’s cousin— so he wasn’t exactly her friend, just knew of him. It’s not like he was popular around campus, he was more introverted, kept to himself, extremely intelligent, and he was a well known tutor to many. As introverted as he was, Sydnee would see him at parties, just sitting, whether it was a kitchen counter, couch, even the floor, and sometimes he’d have a book, just reading.

‘Why did he bring a book to a party?’ Sydnee would think to herself. ‘Who brought him to this party?’

Sometimes, that friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, who was Anakin’s cousin, would talk about Anakin.

“His mom, my aunt, wants him to make friends and stuff, so she makes me drag him to all the parties I go to.” His cousin, Chloe, said with rolled eyes, her words a bit slurred. “And my mom says she’ll stop sending me money if I don’t bring him along, so I really don’t have a choice.”

He’d rather be home reading his book and it was never the same book she’d see him reading every time she saw him.

‘He must be a fast reader.’ She thought to herself.

“He seems nice.” Sydnee said, downing her 3rd drink.

“Oh yeah, he is, total sweetheart.” Chloe smiled, glancing back at him. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

He sat on an old couch, reading, not paying attention to his surroundings, pushing up his glasses every 10 minutes.

Sydnee leaned off the wall. “He’s pretty cute too.”

“Ew, seriously?” Her other friend of a friend, June, dragged out.

Sydnee screwed up her face at the comment.“What?”

“That nerdy loser? Really?” June laughed.

“Not too much on him.” Sydnee rose a brow and put a hand out in his defense.

“Right, he’s my cousin and he’s not ugly.” Chloe added.

“Dear God.” June mumbled to herself and drank to silence herself.

Sydnee looked to Chloe.“I’m gonna get him a drink, I assume he doesn’t drink alcohol.”

“Hates it.” Chloe nodded.

“Got it.” Sydnee said before walking to the kitchen.

There weren’t much options for sodas, it was between that nasty Ginger Ale bold or Coke, and she went with Coke. She began pouring the drink into a red plastic cup, the sounds of kissing and moaning getting louder behind her.

They were all over each other, messily kissing and licking each other, the guy put the girl on the kitchen counter, spilling the drinks in the red cups that people left there, making a complete mess of the place.

‘God, when was the last time I got laid?’

She sighed. She almost fucked the captain of the rugby team, but he was so insufferable, she couldn’t bare another second of him talking about how he’s never been with a black girl before and that he wasn’t racist because his best friend was black.

She didn’t even make another attempt with any other guy after that.

Sydnee ignored the two behind her and put the cover back on the Coke and picked up the cup, making her way to Anakin.

She sat beside him, leaving a small space between them. “I got you a drink.”

Anakin looked up from his book for the first time that night, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He bookmarked the page and looked curiously at the drink. “I don’t drink.”

His voice was so gentle, but deep. Smooth like silk.

“It’s Coke, I didn’t slip anything in it.” She told him, hoping he would actually take it.

He gave a small smile, taking the cup from her grasp. “Thank you.”

She smiled back. “You’re welcome, I’m Sy–”

“S-sydnee, I know.” He said, removing the cup from his lips.

“Oh? You know of me?”

“Ye-yes, you’re pretty…..popular!” He caught himself in the last second, he was getting lost in her deep brown orbs. “You’re friends with my cousin and people talk about you.”

She grew curious. “What do they say about me?”

Anakin cleared his throat, holding the cup with both hands. “Uh..well pretty inappropriate thi-things.” He glanced between her and his cup. “I rather not repeat them. I-I didn’t say anything inappropriate about you though!”

He fully turned his body towards her, hoping she would believe him.

She sighed, knowing it was guys talking about how bad they wanted her in their bed. “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t.”

He sighed in relief. “By the way, I’m Anak–”

“Anakin, I know.” She smirked. “Your cousin told me.”

It meant a lot to Anakin that she knew his name. “Oh.” Was all he could muster with a huge smile on his face. He could feel the heat rising in his face, taking a sip of the soda to hide his face from Sydnee.

“So what’re you reading?” She pointed to the book on his lap.

He perked up. He loved books, reading, talking about them, everything about books. “It’s—”

He was rudely interrupted by some guy who came from behind the couch, putting both hands on Sydnee’s shoulders. “Hey sexy, you haven’t answered my snaps, I promise a good time.”

Anakin grew uncomfortable at the sight before him, the way his disgusting hands pressed into her skin, and how close his lips were to her face. Anakin wanted to say something.

“Can you get your fucking hands off me?” She swatted his hands, turning around to face him. “Don’t snap me anymore, I clearly don’t answer. Now leave me alone.”

“Seriously?” The guy had the audacity to say as if he weren’t wrong.

“Sh-she said leave her alone.” Anakin suddenly said, standing up to face the guy, the couch being the only thing separating them. Anakin didn’t even he have the guts to do that, surprising himself with his own actions.

Sydnee look up at Anakin, she’s never seen him angry before, he was always reserved.

The guy scoffed. “You got this loser to protect you?”

“Fuck off, try me again and I’ll fucking cut you.” She stood beside Anakin. “That’s a fucking promise.”

The guy glared at the two before storming off.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that, Anakin.” She sighed, turning to Anakin. She didn’t realize how much taller he was than her, it almost caught her off guard.

Anakin picked up his book and placed his half empty cup on a nearby table. “It’s..uh– okay.”

“Thanks for standing up for me as well, really cool of you.” Her smile was so bright and so cute to Anakin.

How could a guy ever treat her less than what she’s worth?

“It-it was nothing, really.” He smiled shyly, playing with the loose strands of his hair.

She smiled, then frowned seeing that he was probably uncomfortable about the entire situation. “You probably want to go home now, huh?”

He nodded.

“I’ll look for Chloe—”

He grabbed her hand before she could walk away, then quickly let go. “Uh sorry..she usually gets a ride with some guy or a friend, she’ll be okay. Do you want a ride back to your..dorm?”

Sydnee’s eyes brightened up at his kind gesture. “Yes, thank you.”

He smiled at her answer, then walked out of this party with Sydnee by his side. They made small talk walking to his car, he kindly opened the car door for her, made sure she had on her seatbelt before he started driving, he even walked her to the door of her dorm. She thought that was so cute and kind of him.

She dug in her purse in search of her dorm key, while Anakin stood there waiting for her to go in safely.

“Shit.” She put her back against the wall and slowly slid down.

Anakin was now alert. “What’s wrong?” His voice laced with concern, crouching down to her. “Are you okay?”

She was beginning to feel a headache. Slowly rubbing her temples, she answered him. “I lost my damn key, and maintenance is closed for the night.”

“What time is your roommate coming back?” He looked at both sides of the empty hall.

“Monday.” She groaned into her hands. “She’s out of town for the weekend.”

He bit his bottom lip and pushed his glasses up. “W-would you like to stay at..my apartment for the night?”

She silently brought her head up to him.

“It’s..not that far from the campus, I-I promise!” He reassured her quickly.

She flashed a small smile and chuckled lightly. “I would love that, Anakin. You’re so kind.”

He smiled at her compliment. His heart was beating so fast at such simple words, he felt so pathetic.

They were at his apartment in no time, about a 10 minute drive from campus.

He must’ve been loaded, his apartment was huge.

Anakin locked the door behind Sydnee while she took off her shoes and looked around his insanely neat apartment. Then there was his massive bookshelf against the wall of his living room, with awards, pictures and books, lots and lots of books.

“Wow, you bring all the girls here?” She smirked, following behind him.

“N-no, just you…and sometimes Chloe when she’s too drunk to go home on her own or doesn’t have a ride .” He pulled off his hoodie, throwing it over the couch and revealing his muscular arms.

‘He’s fucking built.’ She stared at his biceps from behind.

That hoodie was hiding everything.

“Th-this is my room.” He opened the door to reveal his room. It was neat, just like every other part of his apartment, but there were books scattered across his bed.

He rushed to his bed, picking up all the books, clearly embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry!” He stacked them neatly on the floor, looking back at Sydnee with shame. “I wasn’t expecting guests.”

She stepped in and looked around. “It’s okay.”

“You can sit on the bed, do you still have a headache?”

She sat softly on his bed. “I do.”

“I’ll make you some tea.” He scratched his head, before walking out quickly.

Sydnee smiled to herself and pulled her phone to watch TikToks to pass the time.

In no time, Anakin came back with a cup of tea and aspirin.

After drinking some, Sydnee put the cup on his side table, not without a coaster of course. “You didn’t get to tell me about the book you were reading.”

He sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “Oh..you remembered.” He fixed his glasses and looked at her. “It’s called The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. Do you want to hear about it?” His captivating blue orbs searched her face. “I don’t want to bore you.”

She got closer to him, making him stiffen and his heart pang against his chest. “You’re not gonna bore me, Anakin.” She blinked slowly, her eyes scanning him. “I like hearing you talk, you have a nice voice.”

His lips parted, but no words left it. His dick began stiffening, he couldn’t control his body.

“Are you okay?” Her head tilted.

That head tilt, that fucking head tilt. Anakin’s brain was scrambling before this girl. She could probably see the gears in his head stop moving as he froze up. His dick strained against the fabric of his underwear and jeans.

“Uh..” He finally let out, pressing his thighs together. “You’re so pretty, I’m sorry.”

She blinked, then smiled at his innocent compliment. “Don’t be sorry, Anakin. I think you’re cute.”

He gulped, staring into her alluring eyes. “Th-thank you.”

“I should really repay you for tonight.” Her eyes glanced down at his erection that he so desperately tried to hide.

“Y-you don’t have to..honest.” His chest rose and fell dramatically. He knew where she was going with this and what a lie he was telling her.

“You sure?” She pouted and went on her knees in front of him.

Anakin blushed furiously, biting his pink and plump bottom lip and stared down at Sydnee. “N-no.”

“You’re so honest.” She put her hands on his thighs, slowly rubbing them.

“Ye-yeah.” He hummed.

“You ever got head before?” She pulled her braids into a ponytail.

“N-no.”

“Cute.” She murmured, unbuckling his pants. “Tell me about the book, Ani.”

He got dizzy at the sudden nickname, his face a new shade of red. “I– He..uh..”

“Breathe.” She commanded, as she started to pull his boxers and jeans down.

He tried regulating his breathing and raised his hips to help her with taking off his pants. They were now dangling at his ankles, his dick standing at attention, veiny, pre cum oozing out and running down his shaft.

Sydnee eyed his lower half. His balls were so big and full, then his pubic hairs were neatly trimmed, and his dick, oh how big it was, twitching under her seductive stare.

“The book, Ani.” She gave his balls a squeeze.

A pathetic moan ripped from his throat.

“Oh wow.” She cooed, rubbing his sticky tip with her finger. “Ani?”

His body twitched, answering with a moan.

“I wanna hear about the book.” She began stroking him slowly.

His hands gripped his sheets, head hanging low as he tried to gather words. “It’s…ah— it’s about a man.”

Her wet mouth made contact with his tip, gradually taking in more of him until she met with the base.

“Oh fuck—ngh!” He couldn’t believe how loud he was.

Her cheeks hollowed to make her mouth feel tighter, bobbing at slow pace for him. She hummed at the taste of his pre cum. One hand on his thigh, squeezing it—her nails sinking into his skin and her other hands massaged his balls.

“W-wait!” He pat the bed with both hands.

She pulled off his dick, wiping her mouth and wondered what she did wrong.

He turned around and grabbed a pillow, resting it on the floor. “H-here, for..your knees.”

In Sydnee’s eyes, that made him 10x more attractive. She put her knees on the soft surface and immediately got back to work. She got sloppy and fast, squeezing her thighs together– she was getting off on getting him off.

“Sydnee!” He cried out. His head was thrown back, a babbling mess before her. “Oh fuck, b-baby!”

That made me her go even faster. Gagging and throating him messily, tears formed at the corner of her eyes. She could feel her ponytail coming undone, but Anakin’s strong hands held it in one for her, as he began thrusting his hips upwards.

“S-Sydnee.” He moaned out, putting both hands on the side of her face and pulling her off to look her in the eyes.

She looked up at him in a daze, saliva running down her chin.

‘Fuck.’ Was all that ran through his hazy mind.

Anakin craned his neck down to her, his lips capturing hers desperately. He’s never kissed anyone in his life, he didn’t even know if he was doing this right, but he just wanted to taste her.

She moaned into his mouth, her hand slowly stroking him.

He pulled away, gritting his teeth and looking into her pretty doe eyes. “I– I think— I’m gonna cum!”

Her eyes brightened up at his words, her brows creasing with his as if she could feel everything he was feeling. “Yes Ani, you’re right there. Let it out for me!”

His legs began shaking, his voice went up and octave, releasing thick spurts of cum all over Sydnee’s clothes, but she kept stroking, using his cum as lube.

“Syd, please!” His hips thrusted into her fist, fucking himself so desperately. “F-fuck— ah!”

She praised him, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “You did so well.”

He breathed heavily, looking down at the mess he made on her. He stood to his feet immediately and pulled his pants up, almost tripping himself.

“Y-your clothes!”

Sydnee could only laugh.

“I-I’m so sorry.” He took his glasses off and wiped his face.

In that split second he took his glasses off, Sydnee’s flood gates broke loose.

“You should..uh.” His breathing was so shallow as he tried collecting himself. “You should take the first shower, I’ll wash your clothes, I’ll give you one of my shirts to wear for the night.” He helped her up.

She kissed his cheek. “Thanks Ani.”

Anakin swore fireworks went off in his head.

💋

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |IV| pirate!eddie

a/n so sorry for the long wait. Let this be a celebration of the beginning of summer :) and lets hope for many fics to come (i cant make any promises tho) I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! Please remember to support by reblogging and leaving comments on what you think of the story <3

Series Masterlist

word count: 7.5k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. religious (Christian) references.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 4: Columba 

A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now, that's a question. ― Neil Gaiman, Stardust

‘We’re… lost?’ You stared blankly ahead.

‘I’ll admit, lost is a strong word, princess— Misdirected feels more accurate. Sailing off-course.’ 

You stammered for a response to the confession you just heard. ‘How– How could we be off-course?’ The captain’s words had not fully come through to you yet, perhaps by his casual stance and lack of urgency for a solution or panic. He stood there, arms behind his back, studying his map like one of the painting hanging on the Queen’s wall. And yet, according to this man, you were heading into uncharted waters. You have been heading towards them for God knows how long.  

‘It is quite simple. Here–’ he was still analysing the markings on the wall as he spoke, and he must have wanted you to step closer, for he looked at you expectedly. Something around his mouth twitched when he looked your way. The eye contact was piercing both ways with so much said between the two of you, and yet not a single word had been exchanged. With two ringed fingers, he pulled an invisible string that he hoped would have some effect on you. 

It did not. 

All you did was raise a brow in your expectation, ready to see what the captain would do now. Arms crossed, you remained in your place. 

‘Do not make me come over there, princess.’ 

‘Do not make me come over there, Munson.’ The words were bitter but tasted sweet, like honey on your lips. If you had blinked, and as luck would have it, you did not, you would have missed the captain’s reaction; a deep breath in as he hollowed out his cheeks, pushing back any clearer indications of frustrations or signs of weaknesses. The patience ran out of his dark eyes. Then, with a stretch of his neck, he returned to his first problem as if the short interaction between you had never occurred. He sounded entirely unphased as he, despite your distance, went to explain the conundrum. ‘Several days ago, the Hellfire stumbled upon a certain ship,’ he tapped one of his fingers on a small mark south of the map. It then dawned on you that, by surrendering to your stubbornness, he had won the bigger battle. Your curiosity was gaining on you, and from where you stood, you could not put much more meaning to his words, as the islands around it were unfamiliar. He knew this and could tell you were frustrated with yourself, but you were too stubborn to walk up and look at what he was showing you… yet where you stood now was no good either. The captain continued explaining as if you were right by his side, not addressing anything else of the situation. ‘Tonight, we were meant to have only been a week’s travel away from our destination–’ your home. This shocked you, for before, you had no indication of how much longer it would take—a week. What was supposed to have been a week is now an undetermined eternity as the ship sailed on.

The mention of your home hit you at the deepest level, overshadowing any other emotions you felt. Any stubbornness was pushed aside for anger as you crossed the room. 

Nothing was exchanged as you moved past the desk towards the captain. He did not look your way, but the grin on his face was undeniable. You could still feel it when he brought you closer to him with a quick pull, shaking you around practically like a rag-doll. You now stood between him and the map, his shoulder against your back. His breath on your neck. His muscles brushed over you as he moved his arm to point out the locations on the map. The flash of heat coming over you could not have been anything but the anger you felt at yourself for letting this happen.

‘To sum up, we met here, darling,’ he reached to tap the map again at a southern point, bringing himself closer to you with the excuse to reach the chart. His chin practically leaned on your shoulder, and his hot breath became overbearing to all your senses. All you could focus on were the rings that adorned his fingers in front of you—one of the few aspects of him you could always trust to remain constant. You watched him move his hand across. ‘—were meant to arrive here—,’ One straight line towards home with a dark, blotted circle on top of it. It made you wonder how long that ink sat upon the canvas. Had he written it once you came aboard, or had he been planning something much longer? Had your abduction been a plan all along? It was hard to imagine but not impossible. 

‘And now we’re… well, God knows where we are,’ he chuckled with wicked amusement, and you did not see the humour in being lost at sea. You did, however, see the irony of him speaking of God. He, a Satan’s spawn himself. It is ridiculous to think that he had the gumption to speak the Lord’s name so casually, especially with him being who he is. It simply did not sit right with you.

However, none of your concerns seemed to have drawn his attention as Munson went on: ‘I felt something was wrong as we were supposed to have arrived at Escondrijo last night, a rest stop we often sail past,’ he read out the name of this island right at your skin, the S slithering from his tongue onto you in shivers. ‘I thought maybe my calculations were simply off; the wind, after all, had not been the kindest. Of course, it could have been a delay– but alas.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘What we stumbled across was–’ He slammed his fist into the map, making you jump at the extreme action,  ‘Such a useless piece of land no one bothered to give it a name!’ He laughed away his frustrations, which chilled you to the bone. ‘Not even the damned sould that live there.’

Damned. That’s what he was. What all of you were as the ship sailed on.

You tried to take in everything that he had just told you. All the locations he had pointed to. Considering the unknown status of your location, the world must have turned upside down for you to arrive here. The fact the Hellfire had stumbled upon the nameless island must have been dumb chance in itself, and just as quickly as it had made itself shown, it was now becoming nothing more than a memory. 

Still, this island could be anywhere on the map, but it must have been close to the planned destination. The climate would have raised suspicions much earlier if it had been otherwise. And that is precisely what you suggested to the captain, hoping that giving him some kind of positive idea would direct him away from the anger he must be feeling. Not to mention, at this moment, you were both in trouble, in danger, and the only way out of it was to help him… as much as you disliked the idea of doing so. It was the only option. 

‘Yes, exactly. All my calculations had been perfect. That is why this is all so perplexing.’ 

You could name several more reasons why the situation was “perplexing”, including one thing you did not yet understand: 

‘Why did we even leave the harbour? Why not stay and orient yourself?’ There were people there, other sailors; naturally, someone could have helped track the right direction to sail onward to. Someone there might have had more information. Anything. 

And yet, the ship had already set sail into the abyss of the night. You could hear the waves sloshing around you, and when you turned around, the fiery light coming from the island was thinning on the horizon. 

‘You overestimate the usefulness of a drunken man. Or the charitability of a passerby in a midnight alley.’ Munson spoke, ‘Or perhaps, you simply underestimate my willingness to find a solution, for that matter. As if I did not try to ask for help—because, whatever you may think of me, I am not ashamed of seeking out outside recourses—’ There was that clicking sound of his tongue that announced nothing but smugness. Next thing you know, his arms had snaked their way down, wrapped around your middle, trapping your arms within his hold. His lips were at your ear, freezing you like a spell. ‘And here I thought you would know me better by now.’

You wished you did too, but the truth was much more brutal. With every moment you spent in the captain’s presence, he only seemed to be becoming more and more of a mystery to you. None of your million questions regarding the notorious Captain Munson had been answered. 

With a slow intake of breath, you spoke to him as calmly as possible: ‘Get off of me.’ 

‘Mmm,’ he hummed, swaying you back and forth, enhancing the ship's movements, ‘I don’t think I want to, princess.’ In reality, it was a loose grip that held no power, authority, or fear over you. All it did was plague you with his touch, scent, and sound; it was all over. You could feel him everywhere. The heat of his body was radiating onto you, boiling you alive. 

From this position, you could not see his face. Your peripheral vision only gave you a blurry profile of his features without indicating what he was doing. You both stood there for a long moment, looking at the map as if it would reveal some secret message. Something to magically guide you back on the right path. It was quiet around, with nothing else but the waves outside, the fire of the candles in the room flickering, and two pairs of lungs breathing. Two hearts, beating fast. 

His grip loosened, but you did not move. Too scared that any movement would remind him of you. Although, maybe he had not forgotten but simply lost interest, for the captain took a step forward, passing you right by. His eyes were locked in on a spot on the map. 

This silence had given you one thing, and it was the time to think. Maybe not clearly—that was barely ever possible with him around—but long enough to devise a train of thought. With that, one more question struck you. 

 ‘Why tell me all of this?’ Was he confessing this all to you because he was not planning on having you stick around for much longer? Airing out a confession to a soul that he had already sentenced, either way, leaving no trace of his mishappening behind? If that was the case, you had to leave this room quickly. Tell someone about all of this…Because what stopped you from going out there and telling everyone that their captain had failed them? Led them to be stranded at sea. This may be what you need. This may get them on your side. Maybe– 

‘Oh, it is wonderful how your mind works, princess.’ He turned around on his heels, and his hands found your shoulders, dug in like claws, shaking you lightly. Shaking you straight out of your escapist fantasy. ‘Truly, fascinating.’ The two last words burned with a growl. He chuckled a little bit more before redirecting himself towards his desk. The captain did not bother walking around the desk. Instead, he sat down on it and let his legs swing around, knocking several stacks of parchment onto the floor in the process. He did not even look down at the mess he caused. Instead, he slightly bent back to look down. His eyes shot down, an eyebrow was raised, and then he looked back at you. 

‘Nosy, were we, darling?’ There was a metal twinkle that piqued your interest, and you noticed the silver key hanging around his neck. He pulled it off and unlocked the drawer you had been toying with before his arrival. 

Had it surprised you that he pulled out a bottle of rum? 

Slightly. 

But you watched the captain uncork the bottle and take a large sip as he sat on the armrest of his throne. He was sloppy, and the liquid spilt down his chin. He was wiping it off as he extended his other arm towards you, inviting you for a drink. When you did not respond, the captain shrugged, mumbled something about stubbornness, and drank until barely anything was left. He put the bottle on the disorganised desk and roughly wiped his mouth with his sleeve. 

 He let out a satisfied sigh. ‘Mmm. Now, where was I,’ he tapped his fingers on his thigh, trying to remember the last seconds. Once he did so, he laughed.

‘It is so easy to think that one tiny mistake could cause a man’s respect, but these men—together with me, may I add—have been through a lot. We are a family, sweetheart, and family isn’t so easy to get rid of. No matter how hard or often you try.’ His dark eyes pierced through yours. ‘So, I hope you do not set your hopes on a mutiny too high because that just won’t happen. If my men wanted to get rid of me, they would have done so long ago. 

‘I’ve made much bigger mistakes that could have cost me my head, yet…’ he knocked his knuckles on the side of his skull, giving you an almost apologetic expression, indicating that he was still present and accounted for. ‘I’m sure they’re all aware of our little problem by now. Hell, it’s their fault, but I don’t want to vex them with this. They have enough work on their plates.’ 

‘So?’ You did not see the point of this anymore, not believing that he had no one in his crew that could help him right now. That would have been more helpful than you.

‘So,’ he mocked your inquisitive tone. ‘Out of everyone on board, you’re probably the last that needs a good night sleep–or at least can miss one.’ 

You wanted to argue with him, call him a monster for depriving you of simple decency such as a night’s rest, but then it dawned on you that he might have actually been right. While the floor gave you no comfort, you had, in a way, the luxury of sleeping as long as, and whenever, you pleased. Meanwhile, the crew got barely any sleep and then had to work most of the day to keep the ship afloat. That was a rationalisation of yet another lost battle, at least. 

‘Even if I did want to help you,’ you sighed in defeat, ‘how could I?’ You didn’t know how to steer a ship, let alone guide one back onto a correct route in the middle of the deep waters at night. Munson looked at you, still very much amused, and clearly held back his tongue with a comment on your words. Instead, he answered your question genuinely. Possibly doing so for the first time.

‘It is the middle of the night; the sky is clear,’ he spoke as if this all led to the most obvious of conclusions, ‘why not let the stars guide you?’ 

‘What makes you think I know how to?’ Did he think you had any experience in this field? ‘Well, I doubt you keep looking up there just because the stars shine oh-so charmingly.’ 

‘You do not think the night sky to be beautiful?’ You asked curiously. It would explain so much about the captain if he could not appreciate the simple beauty of such things. But, the man threw you in for a loop.

‘I do, but I also know it has many more functions than decor. You must know it too.’

‘I do.’ That was basic enough knowledge that you had picked up on as a young child, but was that it? Just because you were fascinated by the heavens did not mean you had any expert knowledge on the subject. Besides, where would you have even been able to acquire it? ‘And this makes you think I can steer us back on the right path?’

‘Call it intuition.’

‘And on the principles of your intuition,  you dare to put your fate in the hands of a…prisoner?’ You had never heard of such a tale for a captain to let his prisoner take the lead on the ship. Giving him their trust.

‘I think we are past such formalities, are we not?’ Were you? He must have read the doubt on your face, for he took the task of explaining: ‘You are no longer locked away; you have the freedom to go anywhere on this ship. I brought you a delicious meal—which I would still like to have received some gratitude for, but that is beside the point—and now I am asking you for your help. Some would say you are going up the ranks quite swiftly, princess.’

‘Funny, I do not recall you asking for my help at all? Just being locked away in a room for hours and given no choice but to do as you say.’

‘The pirate life!’ Munson spread his arms wide, slipping down into the seat of his thrown. You thought it would be futile to argue with him, seeing what humour he was in. The way he had just devoured the bottle of rum would not be helping your case.

‘Why me then? Why not do it yourself since you seem to know as much as me about the stars?’ You thought it would be easier and faster if he had done the work independently. It would already cost less time not to go through this discussion.

Like a thunderbolt, anger struck his face. ‘Because, I say so,’ he snarled before returning to his previous self, ‘and I thought you might like having something to occupy yourself with. Pushing around crates must become boring after sometime, does it not?’ 

‘How do you–’ He had seen what you had done with the lower deck. But… when would he have had the chance? You could not recall many instances, if any, of the captain coming down to see you after he freed you from your cell.

He pushed himself up from the throne and walked back over to you. Then, he began walking in circles around you, and you tried to keep up with him, but it quickly strained your neck. ‘Yes, I know all about your organizing down there. And about your inquiring nature.’ He nodded over to the desk you had tried to pry open. Something must have given it away. He clicked his tongue.  ‘Remember whose ship you’re on, darling. There is nothing that goes by around here without me knowing about it. If you do something, it’s because I let you do it.’

‘I hardly believe that.’

 ‘Well, believe this then: on any other ship, you could have gotten into a lot of trouble if someone caught you going through another man’s things—’

  ‘Don’t try and tell me all of that is yours. I know you stole it off other ships.’ You rolled your eyes. Munson played a victim, placing a hand over his chest, pausing in front of you with his big eyes, imitating hurt. 

‘Some of it very well may be. This,’ he flicked the collar of the shirt you were wearing, ‘for sure is.’ His fingers grazed at your skin, brushing over your throat hastily. ‘I could have you hung, you know. Or at least take off a few fingers.’

‘I doubt it considering you need me in one piece if you want my father’s money.’ 

‘Did you know there are hundreds of other man out there who’d pay double for a pretty face like yours?’ He waited for a crack to reveal the fear on your face and didn’t say anything until it showed. ‘Not to mention, I would not be risking arrest with them. Luckily, I am a man of my word. So, to your daddy you shall return.’ He reached for your shirt collar again, flattening it out carefully with a smile that could make you forget any of the horrific things he had just spoken of. ‘As I was saying, darling… I have a feeling you’d rather not end up like the other dirty thieves, so be a doll and prove to me that there was a use in letting you out of your cell after all.’ 

There it was. The reason for all of this. This was your punishment. Or some kind of redemption. He caught you going through his belonging, and now you had to pay for it— and pay with performing something you already felt to be impossible. 

 With him standing in front of you, hand still on your shoulder, you looked him directly in the eye. ‘How long do I have?’ 

The captain puckered his lips in thought and looked out the window. ‘As long as you can make use of the stars. Then I would really like to get back on course.’

Until sunrise, however long that could be.  You had a few hours to find your current location and a path back to where you were headed. 

‘What if I can’t do it?’ you pushed the question out of your tightening throat, scared of what the answer might be. 

‘That is no mindset for you, princess.’ He brushed some hair out of your face. ‘You’re too smart for that. Now go on; no need to waste even more time.’ And with that, he set you on your way. Or, more accurately, he let go of you and made his way to the bed on the opposite side of the room. In the meantime, you felt like your feet were nailed to the ground, unsure of what to do next, scared of taking the wrong steps. All you could do was look around as if the answers were hidden in the cabin. It had not even been a minute, and you could feel your heart getting stuck in your throat, panic setting in. To give up had never been a feasible option for you before, and it still pained you to think of doing it, but the words were ready to leave your mouth. You win. Your lips parted, and your vocal cords croaked when you noticed something. 

The letters were partly worn from contact but still reflected in the light. Either way, it wasn’t so much the letters that spoke to you, as you could not clearly read it from a distance, but the symbol above it. A golden star set on top of a leather book spine, winking at you in the fire.

Now with much more confidence, you took the needed strides towards the bookcase. It was pitch black leather, wrapped in a string to keep the delicate pages together. The book was situated on a lower shelf, pressed between other volumes, making it hard to remove. 

‘Need help with that, princess?’ Munson sounded from behind you.

Instead of responding, you pulled at the book again, and this time, it fell out from the shelf with a stir as a pile of books near it moved about. Still giving no reaction to the words spoken, you got up and moved to the desk, unwrapping the tie from around the covers and letting it fall open in front of you. The pages were nearly pristine, the ink dark, as if it had never seen the light of day. This ink depicted excellent illustrations of creatures and men. 

Despite being ignored by you, for once, the captain kept his distance and let you work while you searched for the correct pages. You could tell from notes that this was definitely the book you needed, as it told you everything you had to know, but the writing was small and not always legible. The pages were thin but rough to the touch. The writing was small, fitting as much information as the writer could cram between the covers. Most of it felt familiar, bringing you back to tales you had heard from your father or the governess. But navigating oneself with the stars' help required much knowledge and skill you still needed to possess. 

You tried to focus on it as much as you could, and yet, despite the silence and the space between you, you couldn’t stop glancing his way. The captain lay on the bed, his head toward the door, facing you. Each time your eyes met, you pulled yourself away from it, returning to the words and drawings on the pages, but you could constantly feel his gaze on you. It was unnerving. It was as if he was standing right there in front of you.

‘I promise you, I will be more effective if I do not have to endure your constant breathing down my neck.’ Maybe it was your surprisingly peaceful few hours in solitude on board, the tankard of ale streaming through your blood, or even the overall situation placing the captain in a new light, but you felt bold. ‘So, will you please stop staring.’ You looked up, not even surprised to see him still looking directly at you.

‘What would you rather have me do, darling?’ he asked, almost affectionately… though that could not possibly be what it was.

‘For you to leave, and do not call me darling,’ you dared to express. 

‘You want me to leave my own quarters?’ He raised a brow in humour. 

‘Yes, that is exactly what I want,’ you explained. 

‘Ah, well,’ he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes, ‘if it is exactly what the lady wants, that leaves me with very few options, doesn’t it?’ You watched him walk towards the door, perplexed at the ease with which he moved, …just to swerve around and lean against the door. ‘Oh, no, I suppose it doesn’t.’ He shrugged. 

You did your best not to pay attention to whatever the captain was doing—which, in that instance, seemed to be humming some song. You did not recognise it, nor did you have a need to learn it. Especially since, at this moment, any sound from him boomed in your ears like a canon. 

‘Must you be doing that? I am trying to concentrate for your own ship’s sake, if you do not recall.’ 

‘Apologies.’ He stopped, but the energy transferred into his legs, which shook his whole body with them, only softening the sound slightly, but the creaking of the wooden panels underneath him wasn’t much better. You couldn’t do this any longer. 

The only thing on your mind was frustration as you slammed the book shut, picked it up and walked towards the door. The captain took one smooth step to the side and, when you pulled at the door handle, had expected it to remain in its bolts, but it opened so quickly that your slight pull was enough to throw you sideways. The night darkness welcomed you together with the cold sea air and confusion.

‘How long has this been open?’ You did not want to look at him and did not need to. You could tell what kind of smile he wore and how he must have enjoyed this moment as he answered. 

‘Ever since I came back, princess.’ You could have left any time. You just took a deep breath and counted to three before turning his way and calmly saying something you had thought ever since your eyes fell upon him.

Well, at least better late than never. You stepped out onto the quarter deck without closing the door behind you. A man was half-asleep at the wheel, his entire body leaning on it. Luckily, someone had blocked it, avoiding the ship sailing in circles. 

Besides the sleeping helmsman, no one else seemed to be above deck, most likely in their beds as deep night had arrived. There were no lights besides the fire lit in the captain’s office, so you let the darkness take you as you walked down the stairs…. But midway, as the light from the captain’s cabin remained in the distance, you realised your mistake. 

‘For Heaven’s sake,’ you muttered under your breath and turned back around, climbing the steps, ignoring the burning hatred you felt in your body. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, you trotted your way back in. While your steps felt heavy, protesting your return into the room mentally, it was strange to walk so freely without all the layers your dress consisted of. With only a shirt over your upper body, you could feel each punch of the air on you, but in a strange sense, you welcomed it. 

But stepping back inside, you felt your body heat up again, mainly from embarrassment rather than the soft fire lighting up the cabin. It had not even been a minute, and you were passing the threshold again. You had not expected, nor wanted, to have returned so soon. If luck was ever in your favour, you would never see the interior in your life again, but, unfortunately, there was no escaping from this room for you, as you seemed to be coming back no matter what.

‘Back so soon, princess?’ In the short time of your absence, Munson had returned to the bed and tilted his head at your entrance, grinning, ‘You must have missed me more than I thought.’ 

You scoffed, ‘for your information,’ and grabbed a lantern on a dressing table closest to the door… which was still too many steps inside for your liking, ‘I am simply gathering some light. It is too dark outside, I cannot read what's on the pages.’

‘Ah. Is that all then?’ he asked, returning his head onto his pillow, closing his eyes as if he was ready for sleep, ignoring his clothes and the stoic position in which he lay. But as you moved around the cabin, he had opened one eye to look your way. ‘I’d suggest you take a jacket, princess. It can be quite cold out there.’

‘You could have made a fine gentleman, Munson.’ You held your head high, not looking at him. ‘It is a shame you let yourself deteriorate at sea like your ship.’ 

‘That actually almost hurt me, darling. I’m impressed.’ He chuckled, eyes already closed again. With nothing else to say, you passed the large wardrobe and walked straight out of the room. Once again, you walked down the stairs, celebrated when your feet touched the last step and walked onto the ship's centre. Along with the crashing of the waves, you could hear each of your footsteps. 

Something must have been in your favour, for the sky was without a cloud and in the darkness of the ship, you could see millions of stars twinkling. The moon was still but a sliver. It brought a similar-looking smile to your face. 

You searched for the page you had deemed the most useful beginning and spread the book in your arm. Now, with the book open in your arm, with the flames lighting the pages from above, you gazed up at the stars. After a short moment, this position would not be possible to uphold. The two objects you held were too strong to keep up in the air. Remaining as calm as possible, ultimately pressing the captain out of your mind, you reread the pages. 

To navigate through the stars, one must first find Polaris—the brightest star in the sky, right at the end of the Ursa Minor. The sky was clear, handing you the constellations on an onyx platter. The silver balls of fire were peppered around like crystals, gleaming and shimmering, but without a doubt, there was one that shined just a little bit brighter, calling to you with the direction of True North.

You had heard men talk of these methods at home and aboard the Red Tail, and they had always sounded relatively simple. If anything, you considered their constant complaints simply a part of manhood. Now that you were straining out your neck to look around at all the corners of the galaxy, you still did not think it to be much more complicated and so knew that the captain could not have felt any other way. 

You had figured out his plan to punish you, and now the rationale behind this specific task came to you. It would not have been unexpected if he tasked you with this hassling job simply because he was too much of a sloth to do so himself. There was still a dim light in the office quarters, so you assumed he had not gone to sleep yet… or perhaps fallen asleep with all the candles still flickering. For a moment, your mind wandered to where the candles tipped over, caught some of the wood around, and never stopped burning.

Just for a moment, until your lantern started to feel hot against you as you held it too close. It felt so heavy.  You had to set it on the ground, then sat down beside it with the book in your lap. 

Some time passed, but who knew how long precisely you had been sitting out there. Your knees had started to hurt, as well as your spine, but giving up was not an option. The ship swayed back and forth against the waves, blurring your view, only making things more complicated. The wind kept lashing out, but you persisted, trying to calculate the ship's position, flipping back through the book to the pages on which a map had been etched out. You would do this if it was the last thing you did. 

‘I will be done by sunrise, ’ you shouted as you heard footsteps behind you. The jingle of chains could have only been one person. You wiped some hair away that the wind blew in your face as you felt the captain’s presence behind you—like a deathly spectre hovering over you. ‘I– I promise.’ You said so more to yourself. Because while you had to prove yourself to him to live, you needed to prove to yourself that you could do this. You would persist and manage to find a way back home. 

The captain said nothing; he did not linger around, watching you. The only thing he did, was throw down a large coat onto the ground, which fell onto the floorboards next to you with a thud. You blinked slowly, then turned around to him, but he was already returning to the cabin. 

‘It will all be pointless if you freeze to death.’ And with that, he took his last steps and shut the door behind him. The light in his room immediately blackened, obscured by the stained glass in the small door window. 

You looked down at the jacket. Like all those the captain wore, it was black but heavily layered. Decorated in what seemed like hand-stitched gold but not in any fashionable manner. The stitching was uneven and needed a clear pattern. The sleeves were falling apart but tied together with what once must have been a silver necklace. Several of them, even. You glanced once more in the direction of the captain’s cabin before putting the coat on. It swallowed you up but immediately brought over a sense of comfortable heat over your body. The soft material protected you against the wind. Now not feeling like your bones were becoming icicles, you began to feel some pleasure in the whole thing. As you kept working, you slowly forgot why you sat in the middle of the ship and let yourself be emersed by the stars. Being out there on your own was actually freeing in a strange sense. The darkness locked you out of your extended surroundings, placing you virtually anywhere.

Well, not anywhere. The constellations held the password to where you found yourself, and you would decrypt it anytime now. 

But first, you needed to stretch your legs. The cracking of your joints was enough of a sign that you had sat on that floor long enough. With the lantern in hand, you walked in circles around the ship. The light swung in motion to your steps, in motion to the waves. When you looked out at the sea, you were greeted with two moons. One hung still in the sky while her sister swam in the waters. Mirrored images of each other, smiling and frowning in both directions, but never in reach. Conflicted, perhaps or maybe they simply managed to show you bits of yourself there?

You wanted to say something to them as you stood there, but no words felt right. So, peaceful silence it was. However, the longer you stood there, the more of an effect you thought from the hours you spent on the deck. And there was still so much you had to do. But you could do it. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you leaned against the railing, placing the lantern beside you. The yawn pushed passed your lips without a choice but plenty of resistance. If you stayed there, you would probably fall asleep soon, which is ineffective. So, you grabbed the light, and with your free hand deep in your pocket to keep warm, you returned to your star gazing spot. But not one step in your brisk walk back, you halted. A feeling of something cold and hard against your hand occupied your entire mind there and then. When you pulled it out, you were unsure what it was, but the mechanism must have worn out through the years because it fell open in your hand, revealing a rose. Its arrow pointing right at you. 

A compass. 

Your head immediately shot toward the captain’s cabin, but the lights had gone out, and there was nothing more to make out of the darkness. Your eyes shut into narrow slits. He had brought you his own jacket and must have known what was in it. 

The question now was, why? Why did he give it to you? Was he trying to help you by giving you this tool? Did he think you needed help to get anywhere? Well, you certainly did not. Especially when it could be a trap. The device could very well be defective and put you on the wrong trail, and then, if you were to give the captain the wrong directions, you knew he would not waste a second by punishing you. And this time, correctly. 

Still, according to your calculations, North was meant to be behind you, so in that, the compass was correct, but you did not want to risk anything. An instinct told you to throw the thing away, right over the railing into the sea. Let it sink and make the captain watch. Just like you had to watch, your own ship disappear into the waters. It would have been a small taste of revenge, but it was a start. 

The idea faded as soon as you shut the compass. You looked at the engraving on it—a detailed depiction of a bird–which kind, you could not quite tell. Perhaps a hawk… could it be… no, you doubted it was a Redtail. It could not be. The simple idea of that brought chills down your spine. How could Munson possess such an item; engraved with your town’s crest? 

And it was old. As you had noticed, the clip keeping the two halves together was tethering on falling apart from frequent use, and the window of the rose was cracked. The metal of the shell had finger marks faded into it from the usual position it was held in by hands much larger than yours. 

Not wanting to see it again, you pushed the compass deep down the pocket you had found it in. Determined to have the images erased from your mind by the rest of your task and the time pressure put on it, you retrieved your book. 

It was harder done than said.

As you stood there, book and fire in hand, spinning around to position the stars as you pleased, the tiny silver lights blurred in your eyes. But you were so close, you could not stop now, not when you were so close. Ignoring the burn of the compass at your thigh as your mind whirred with solutions. With North decided for, and with the latitude… no longitude— and if the charts were pointed this way— then, God, you could not keep this book up anymore. Your arm screamed from the weight of the pages. 

Back on the ground, you resumed your final observations. Flipping between the map and the charts, exchanging glances with the book and stars. Yes, if that was North, then… then… you checked the map once more, locating your home definitively. 

You did it. You actually did it. It could have been minutes, maybe hours; you could not tell with certainty how much time you had spent on the task, but as you shut the book, so did your body. You fell back onto the deck with a tired smile. It could have been the fatigue, but the stars shone slightly brighter for you, gleaming with pride. 

They also became blurrier. Your eyes turned heavy. But you kept staring up with a smile. At least, you do not remember ever stopping. Even if it is possible you fell asleep at some point, you could not tell at what point exactly. All you knew was that you dreamt. And for once, your mind was free of nightmares. As much as your world was free of them, at least. But it had to be a dream. 

How else would he appear out of the shadows?  Why else did you see him looking down at you; impossible to tell for how long. His features free of anger, mischief or bad intentions, unnatural. He stood there at the balustrade next to the helm. It was impossible to tell how long he had stood there in the dark. 

And his walk. It was utterly silent, free of chains or heavy steps. That could have been only your brain letting you rest. His touch was feather soft as he picked you up in his arms. 

You shouldn’t have stayed out here this long. He sighed in disappointment, but not in you.

You told me to— you mumbled. 

I know. The floor became unstable. You were floating in the air, rising up. Only his hold there to keep you grounded. The one time you should have been stubborn and not listen. Why did you not just go to bed?

I want to go home, Eddie. Why else would you say this if it was not a dream? You could never imagine yourself opening up to him this way. Let him carry you like that. And if you had, it would never feel this good or safe to be held by him. 

I know. He repeated himself. There was a shift. No longer in his arms, you were floating on a cloud, but his voice echoed around you. I’m sorry.

None of this could have been real. These could not be the words of captain Munson. But they still stayed with you as your dreams ventured on into other stories. All just as pleasant, the nightmares of all the nights before merely bad memories, never to be repeated again. 

I did it, you said quickly before he disappeared, to be replaced by your new figment. North East. Go Northeast.

Here is your final reason. The proof you had dreamt it all. A silent moment, full of hesitation. Then, a fluttering touch of lips on your forehead and a hand brushing your cheek gently. If this had been real life, you would have turned away and let yourself burn in anger, but instead, your lips formed into a smile, and for the first time in forever, you felt at peace. 

And just like that, like in any other dream, he was gone while your mind brought you to other fantastical places and told you stories you would not remember. It was a night of wondrous bliss, of rest. Filled with dreams as the stars watched over you. 

Only at daybreak did it all change. When the morning sun glowed golden through the large window. Only at that moment you began thinking that maybe, just maybe, you were wrong. Perhaps not all of it had been a dream, for when you woke up, you were not on the ship's deck nor down in your cell. When you woke up, you did so in a bed.

The captain’s bed, of all places. 

Chapter 5

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

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[poppurini]

zip up the jacket, it’s cold

leona & f!reader, reader depicted as shorter than him

oh my god leona. leona? bro leona. have u seen leona? YOOO leona. dude leona. leona leona leona.

“You did really well just now, Leona!” and the man couldn’t help but silently swoon at the obvious admiration and adoration for him in your eyes. For him, and him alone. The captain of NRC’s spelldrive team breathes out a chuckle. “Just really well?”

Halting your steps, you did a sharp turn to face him. “And you looked really cool!” Obviously singing corny praises but does he care at the moment? Obviously not. Mhm, that’s what he wanted to hear from his herbivore. He gave you a hum of satisfaction that prompted a cheeky smile from your own lips as well before you started marching towards the stalls again, talking about the trending snacks Cater recommended you to try.

Your little journey was interrupted when a hand much larger than yours engulf your own and gently pulled you backwards, the little stumble making you press into his chest, all of that combined to make you let out an awkward, surprised sound as you try your best to stand back tall.

It is a fairly new relationship, after all. Skinship isn’t an exactly common interaction between you two yet. You are also in the arms of the man you thought was pointless to try and get attention from just a few months ago. I’d say it’s a valid reaction to feel like the bones from your legs disappeared.

“Haha yeah, uh, what is it?” Feigning composure, you laughed awkwardly at your boyfriend—wow, boyfriend. You didn’t think you’d ever have a chance to call him that—making the corner of his lips quirk up in amusement. “Aren’t you cold?” a murmur while he busies himself with adjusting the oversized item on you. It’s his sport jacket that he put on you just minutes ago because apparently his little girlfriend thought she could handle the cold as winter approaches. “It’s warmer when ya zip it up.”

Dragging out a whine representing your dismay, you raised your arms up and shook the flappy sleeves too long for you. “It’s cuter like this.” He guess it is cute, watching you do a little twirl in his clothing.

“Cute, but ’m not gonna babysit a sick Y/N.” With that said, Leona made you stand still and attached the end of the zipper together, pulling it up all the way to the top, enough to cover your lips. Somehow you have a feeling you looked like a penguin. “Cuter like this.”

You have no arguments. No resolve in you to fight back nor unzip the jacket. All you managed to do was look up at him stunned and flustered. You may try to hide it, but you’re gulping and averting your gaze after a few seconds and feeling hot at the damage he has done. Felt like your feelings for him is just slowly increasing by the minute.

While you’re still wallowing in euphoria, Leona has already turned you back on track by the shoulders before one hand slid down to your waist, rubbing them slowly with his thumb while pulling you closer and you wanted to scream right there and then due to the intimacy. All your thoughts and feelings unorganised resulting in mindless babbles and fake coughs. “We- yes, I- right. That way.”

Unsurprisingly, Leona wanted more from you. So, like the bastard he is, he leaned down close enough to murmur in your ear. “Hm? Didn’t quite catch ya.” He lets out a hearty laugh at your small flinch before— hey, oi, you’re fainting!?

[elexuscal]

Ficlet prompt idea! Interactions between ART and Pin-Lee and/or Mensah in the time after NE but before SC.

More thoughts if you wanted more inspiration than a single line. Does Pin-Lee teach ART some new curses ('cause ART curses alot more in this book, and I wanna blame Pin-Lee like how Rhatti mentions the overlap between MB and Pin-Lee's curse vocab)? How great would their banter be, lawyer vs know-it-all-AI?!

Is ART still kinda shy/excited by meeting Mensah?

Thank you~ I really love your work!!!

Awwww thank you very much!

Oh man i was so spoiled for choice here but i really really struggled to think of an interesting take on this

Big thank you to @specialagentartemis who i paraphrased a significant chunk of this from as well as general Vibes

Asshole vs Asshole

So here's the thing. Here's the fucking thing, okay?

Twenty-three days. Twenty-three fucking days of waiting, of worrying, of preparing. Of nearly chewing her own arm off. Of thinking she was walk into a fucking blood bath.

And the Preservation Alliance rescue team finally gets to the scene of the crime, and no one is dead. Which is fucking good, obviously. Okay. She gets it. No one's dead, no one's lost any limbs, and praise the dark gods of yesteryear, no one has even been kidnapped. This is literally better than the best-case scenarios they concocted.

But surely, surely, Pin-Lee can't be the only one who thinks it is fucking weird to be having tea with the person who did the kidnapping in the fist place?

"Thank you, Perihelion," Ayda says, as a shiny blue drone finishes pouring tea into a cup. Just a whiff and a glance is all Pin-Lee needs to know it was brewed exactly the way Dr. Mensah prefers it.

The drone turns to hover to her. It pours a drink into her own mug. Pin-Lee glares at it.

Ayda doesn't look at her, doesn't so much as tilt her head. But they've worked together for a long, long time now, and Pin-Lee nonetheless reads the subtler body language. She grinds out, "Thank you."

She sips the drink. It is coffee and it is extremely bitter and it's warm-but-not-quite-hot and Pin-Lee has a sneaking suspicion it is at least a few hours old.

[You're welcome~] Perihelion's trills as the drone zooms away.

Peri. Fucking. Helion.

Turns out, it's the one that orchestrated this whole thing. The super-secret advanced spaceship that SecUnit apparently befriended while it was off on its journey of self-discovery or whatever decided that it knew exactly who could handle its little pest control problem, and hadn't much cared which innocent civilians got stuck in the cross-fire.

"There were extenuating circumstances," SecUnit had explained, face set like it was ready for a fight.

"It's all fine, water under the bridge," Ratthi had said. "No harm done really."

"Except for the new layers of fresh trauma," Overse had groused.

"But we're handling that, too," Arada had said, with a too-bright smile. "And it's a good thing we're here to help the colonists."

"Yeah yeah and you should see ART's hydroponics bay, it's super cool," said Amena, tugging on her arm.

So suffice to say she was kind of getting some Mixed Signals about this whole thing.

But okay! Corporates descending to steal the livelihoods of hundreds of innocents! Fine! There's a lot at stake! And this is what Pin-Lee is good at, and (sort of) what she was dragged along to handle, so she is willing to put this all aside for the greater good.

Pin-Lee sips at her under-handed-insult coffee and reads over the legal feed documents of this whole cluster-fuck of a case. "Okay," she says at last. "Okay, this is salvageable. But I'm going to need to some more info before I can fully revise this.."

"Of course," says the captain of The Perihelion, a note of genuine relief in his otherwise professional voice. "What do you need?"

"1: A full list of all the symptoms associated with the contamination, and its speed of spread. That'll influence what level of breach this is classified under. 2: Estimates for all of the colonists deaths that were directly caused due to their being stranded. 3: Monetary evaluation of all the colonists' remaining assets..."

"Of course," the captain agrees

Which is fine. Except fifteen minutes later some teenager not-much-older-than-Amena shows up and hands Pin-Lee a stack of paper.

"What's this?" Pin-Lee says, her eyes immediately skidding off of the hand-written tables and charts.

"That's our evaluation of the colonists' assets, like you asked for," the teenager (Turi?) says.

Pin-Lee looks at Turi, to the papers, and back at Turi again. "Can I get this in the feed?"

"Well.... You can..." Turi says, a bit of red in their cheeks. "But..."

"But no guarantee the numbers won't be doctored there," calls Karime from the other side of the lounge.

Teeth grinding in the back of her mouth, Pin-Lee manages, "What?"

[My numbers are perfectly accurate,] Perihelion protests. [It is hardly my fault if none of you are capable of following the calculations.]

Martyn snorts. "It would help if you bothered explaining all your sources."

[Find them yourself.]

Pin-Lee can barely believe what she's hearing. "Are you telling me... that your AI keeps fucking with the numbers so bad that you need to get a teenager to do the accounts by hand."

"I'm not a teenager, I'm twenty-three." Pin-Lee huffs; as if that's a meaningful difference. "And I'm a very, very good accountant." Turi pauses, then admits, "But that's the long and short of it, yes."

Pin-Lee can't help it. She drops her head to the table and hides it under her arms.

[Do you have a problem with this state of affairs?] the very aptly re-named Asshole Research Transport oozes in her private feed.

[You really don't need me to answer that.]

[You're right. I don't.]

She uncurls her finger and makes a rude gesture. Presumably one of its thousands of cameras will see it.

That summons SecUnit into the conversation. [Are you two fucking with each other again?]

[No,] they say in unison.

[Cut it out,] SecUnit says, and then drops away. Truly a master of conflict resolution, that one.

'I'll cut it out when you learn to make nicer friends', she almost sends, but catches the obvious come-back and stops herself. Instead she takes sip of her shitty coffee and gets to work trying to interpret hand-written accounts.

[justaghostingon]

Is it wrong to date a guy from an enemy faction when your country doesn’t exist anymore? Asking for a friend

A kaebedo au in which kaeya lives in a spy drama and albedo in a sitcom

Note: Minor spoilers for some lore from Pernhari lore books

Given what we now know about how the crimson moon dynasty came before the eclipse dynasty and was more focused on alchemy, i would like to submit a theory that albedo is from the crimson moon faction

His master rhinedottr is famous for her alchemy after all, and he followed in her footsteps.

Not that these factions mean much to albedo, k’hanriah is long gone, and there is so much more in the world to discover

But Kaeya! Kaeya was sent as a spy by the k’hanrians who haven’t given up yet, they still have hope and cling to old traditions.

They served the dynasty of eclipse, of course the differences between crimson moon and exclipse matter to them

Especially if i go out on a limb and theorize the crimson moon had something to do with the fall of k’hanriah. Like a revolt or political infighting. Side eyes “the exclipse was swallowed by the crimson moon”

So it makes sense why neither kaeya nor albedo were aware that they’d meet another k’hanrian in mondstat, much less another captain in the knights

Kaeya spends a day in agony, fully expecting albedo to jump him and make kaeya follow some new “mission” or something

That is until albedo mentions alchemy, specifically kemia. The pride of the crimson moon’s alchemists.

Combined with albedo’s seeming lack of knowledge as to who kaeya is, this can only mean one thing.

Albedo isn’t a spy from eclipse here to get Kaeya back on track. He’s a spy from crimson moon here to do the same thing as kaeya!

Naturally kaeya can’t let an enemy spy get to close to mondstat! Especially since they might not be friendly like him!

Plus he’s grown up on stories that blame the crimson moon for k’hanriah’s fall. (Also the gods and abyss, but come on, we all know the rival political faction was the real enemy here) he does not want that to happen to mondstat

So kaeya decides to get close to albedo, feel him out and see what his intentions are, and dispose of him if he needs to.

Unfortunately for him, a wrench is thrown in his plans in the form of Klee. Sweet, loveable klee who adores her big brother albedo so much, and would definitely cry if he were to suddenly vanish, and he just couldn’t do that ot her (also there is an all powerful witch who will definitely destroy mondstat if they make her precious daughter cry)

Now kaeya must find other ways to handle mond’s latest ticking time bomb and figure out his secrets, all while trying to ignore how those eyes make his heart skip a beat (from fear, he lies to himself)

Meanwhile, albedo clocks kaeya as a k’hanrian from the eclipse faction the moment he saw him. Given how it was all over kaeya’s clothes, he thought this was intentional.

And sure, kaeya never talks about his homeland, or his people before mondstat, but given everything that went down its probably a sore spot. No one else brings it up ir comments on his heritage so albedo just assumes everyone knows and no one talks about it out of respect for kaeya, and some other illusive social cue.

So when kaeya starts getting close to albedo, with his signature flirty moves, albedo does not think this has anything to do with crimson moon vs eclipse. He thinks this is just kaeya trying to get to know the new captain

Maybe he’s curious about alchemy?

So he shows off a few cool potions to a wide eyes kaeya

Kaeya internally: is this a threat?

Albedo internally: i am winning at social interaction 😁

Albedo figured kaeya would get bored of him soon enough, when he realized that albedo’s job of alchemy is a lot more math and a lot less cool explosions.

But when kaeya sticks around, asking questions about albedo’s past, befriending klee, expressing curiousity in what exactly his potions can be used for, albedo starts to get suspicious

It’s not the alchemy itself. Albedo offered to teach kaeya some small potions and kaeya all but leapt away in his haste to refuse (those childhood stories of “touch alchemy and u die” realy stuck with him)

So he goes to sucrose and timeaus and asks them.

Sucrose is equally baffled, wonders if maybe kaeya just really likes chopping up ingredients

Albedo: hmm. He does do it everytime i ask…

Timeus: oh my archons, kaeya has a crush on you.

Albedo decides to test both theories. He stops letting kaeya cut his ingredients, but that doesn’t deter him. So he checks to see if Kaeya is attracted to him

By silently crowding close to kaeya to hear if his heart speeds up

Kaeya meanwhile, has a stone faced alchemist pushing him into a wall, is absolutely thinking he’s about to be murdered (and that it’s hot)

Albedo notices the speed up. Ahh so he does like me.

Kaeya: i have to go now! Proceeds to rush out the door.

Albedo is confused. If kaeya likes him, why is he running?

He asks timeus and sucrose. Sucrose offers to stalk him for a while to find out why. Timeus replies that albedo was “too forward” and that people like “to be chased”

Albedo, chasing kaeya: is this what u want?

Kaeya: oh god he’s gonna kill me!

The method that albedo picks to woo Kaeya is to offer him a fancy lunch he cooked, complete with a traditional khanrian delicacy: the spider sandwich.

Kaeya does not enjoy this, his mind running wild trying to figure out what albedo is trying to say to him by feeding him spiders.

Albedo decides he can’t trust Rhinedottr’s ideas of “traditional delicacies” (who knew her spider sandwich wasn’t normal?)

So he turns to sucrose, who has been stalking kaeya. She proposes a date that she has gathered from her research: take him drinking.

Now if albedo had started with this, it probably would have gonne much easier for him. But after a week of being stalked, chased, and fed spiders, kaeya’s guard is way up.

He’s convinced this is an attempt to get him drunk to get information out of him. Well good luck with that, kaeya’s no light weight, he’s certain he can drink albedo under the table, and get him talking instead

Albedo is a but hesitant when kaeya suggests a drinking competition, but goes along with it.

The result is a very drunk albedo cuddling up to kaeya and whispering the periodic table seductively in his ear.

Kaeya was not prepared for that. Not at all. He comes back home thinking that the crimson moon really trains their spies to be good at keeping secrets

Albedo comes back to his home confident at a successful first date

Things continue onward in their will they won’t they, until one day kaeya wakes up in bed with albedo, in matching pjs, klee sleeping between them, and realizes that seduction was the crimson moons game all along, and he lost.

But oh well, its not like he’s really following eclipse’s orders anyways. He thinks as he goes back to sleep

The end

[alumi-san]

Things I liked in season 2:

Priyaleb was cute.

Caleb is a character here, and he's such a nice guy!

Rajbow moments.

Rajbow not breaking up (yes, it's important).

Wayne and Raj are lovable himbos as they are. They, Julia, MK, and Demian, carried this season.

Chase is eliminated in the second episode (I don't like him).

Zee being Zee.

Damien and Nichelle, being a king and queen of this season.

Ripper is a better person and not as gross or annoying as his s1 self (though it's also his downhill).

No fart jokes, thank god!

The humor is better.

Julia and MK are the most unexpected friendships we have this season. They're definitely my favorite antagonist duo in total drama. They are so terrible in a good way.

Raj and Wayne's farewell scene had the best animation in all series.

THIS

This right here is the most wholesome moment in the series by far. I want to hug people who created this.

Things I didn't like:

They didn't change the intro. It's laziness to me.

The fact that the teams almost didn't change. The only differences: Caleb, Emma, and Nichelle on Priya's team. Chase, Ripper, and Axel on Bowie's team. I'm not very angry at this, but it's very boring.

Priya and Caleb should've been eliminated earlier.

Emma being eliminated in the 3rd episode is a crime.

Bowie and Emma did not reconcile. They didn't even interact with each other this season!

Demian being a character tool (he didn't deserve it).

Rippaxel was hilarious but came out of nowhere.

Priyaleb has too much screen time.

Priya became Courtney after episode 7 and tried to kill Caleb.

Ripper is a completely different character here. Did he had a character development off-screen???

Caleb and Axel do not have anything besides their romances.

Is it just me, or did they take Bowie strategic and sassy part away from him? Don't get me wrong, he's still the best, but something was... off.

Wayne's not using his captain/leader skills. Considering he's the winner of this season, this would've been very useful.

The whole separation between Wayne and Raj was too short. To this to work better, Raj should've been eliminated earlier (how painful it didn't sound).

Tho I'm happy between Bowie and Raj, I think Raj should've gotten mad at him. I mean, they builded up the hole. "Bowie is lying to his bf," and then nothing really happened!

Them throwing Mille character development and making her worse.

"I'll be back and get revenge on you!"- and then she didn't (episode 13 doesn't count!).

Poore Nichelle. She was too powerful.

A personal preference:

Priya's coming through self-discovery to learn what she wants would've been interesting.

Imagine if Chris said that Priya and Bowie were actually choosing teammates for an opposite team. It's would've been so bold and interesting!

Demian should've been in the final three instead of Caleb.

I would prefer Wayne to be eliminated instead of Raj.

My dream finaly was Raj vs Julia or MK. Like fair vs cheating, get it? Plus, Ruj taking revenge on one of them for eliminating Bowie.

Rank: 6/10

It's still way better than All Stars.

[dollwritesarchive]

𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝑜𝒹 ⎹ 𝓟.𝓓.𝓐

❝ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ⤻ one piece / kinktober 2022 / @dollsanime-library

❝ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ⤻ portgas d. ace x ex pirate captain!reader ( f! )

❝ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⤻ nsfw! none of my writings are meant for anyone under the age of 18, and any minors interacting will be blocked on site.

❝ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ⤻ this is a dark fic! literally all smut, noncon, cockwarmimg, light bondage, nonconsensual branding ( tattooing ), blood mention, name calling ( bitch, whore ), belly bulge & size kink

❝ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⤻ 1k / mini musing

❝ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ⤻ i do not consent to having my work reposted / translated / stolen in any capacity for any reason. please reblog and leave a comment to support content creators! my work is very rarely proof read so mistakes may be present. all characters / pairings i write for are 18+ with no exceptions.

“Where ya goin’, spitfire?” Ace grinned, and what a wicked grin it was, and planted two, massive palms against your bare hips. you’d been keeping your thigh muscles tight, trying to take just the engorged tip of his cock, but the treacherous bastard wasn’t having it anymore— especially not when you squirmed in a futile escape to pull yourself off his lap completely. the sting of the tattoo being forcefully etched into your chest deepening to an almost unbearable burn when the blade skirts over your clavicle. “We ain’t done yet.”

with a powerful shove, he overwhelms your strength and forces you flush to his groin, filling you with every neglected inch. you cry out, though it’s muffled, and furrow your brows, spitting obscenities and threats through the thick knot of rope forced between your teeth. god, if you could only tell him just how you were going to kill him for this, but you couldn’t even form a coherent word, drooling over your chest and your bound hands that covered your breasts. the artist only chuckles, wiping your slobber away from his work, and continues digging away, inking the C into your skin.

PROPERTY OF PORTGAS D. AC

it didn’t take a genius to decipher what the tattoo would read when it was finished. it was the entire plane of your chest, from shoulder to shoulder, and the flesh around the finished lettering was raised and tender. the blood from the brand that had dribbled down to your belly was ignored, leaving it to turn dark brown and tacky, cocktailing with the perspiration and salt from the sea air that clung there.

“That’s better, let me fill that little cunt.” Ace hums, one hand reaching around to grip your thigh tight. you glanced down and felt your stomach flip. you could feel him throbbing inside you, still and stretching you open, but it was another thing entirely to see the way you sat flat against his lap, only his swollen balls exposed. there’s a thick protrusion against your belly, and you knew it was the shape of his cock poking out of you. a soft gasp, and you clamped around him tighter, and he grunts in approval. “That’s the tight, fucking fit I wanted.”

damn him.

it was even worse that he was so fucking big, your walls fluttered in protest against the forced stretch, snapping back to hug him tight. every single, pulsing vein massages your sensitive canal, and he was lengthy enough to hit a depth unbeknownst to even you, remaining static to leave you in a permanent state of intense sensation.

you hiss against the rope, glaring at him over your shoulder. he takes note of the fire in your eyes, using his free hand to flip the sizable knife around, and he scoffs. “If looks could kill, eh, bitch?” with a soft grunt, he jams the blade into the arm of the chair and leans forward; the way you flinch when he does so doesn’t escape him, and he presses his bare, solid chest against your back. “Too bad they can’t. Glarin’ daggers ain’t gonna make this ship yours again, ain’t gonna make you captain again, and sure as shit ain’t gonna keep you from bein’ my little whore, whether you want to or not.” his head tilts to one side, tongue running over his front teeth, and the hand on your thigh careens upwards, “If I’m bein’ honest, I couldn’t care less about this piece of shit you call a ship, or your half-cocked crew. But you,” his fingers clamp around your swollen clit and you mewl, hoping to keep your eyes from rolling back. he chuckles at the way you wiggled, and his open mouth grazed over the rope leaving a burn in the corner of your mouth, “I just had to have you. Take ownership over this pussy, and I think you wanted me to own you, too.” you shake your head, but he’s pinching that little bundle of nerves, and you’re whimpering and squirming. your interior clenches around his girth, which only feels better, and you bite down on the rope to keep from moaning out in pleasure. “No?” he teases, before rubbing your bud between his fingers until they were shiny with your slick, “Then why are you so fucking wet just sittin’ on my cock?”

“Frck you!” you grumble through the gag, refusing to give him the satisfaction of bending to his will, attempting to jerk away from him, but the tattooist arched a brow and placed a strong hand against your throat, pushing you back against Ace.

“Keep ‘er still, will ya?” he mumbled.

Ace laughs, rubbing in fierce circles, and nips at your cheek with his teeth, “I’d stay steady if I were you,” he hisses, “how else are folks gonna know that you’re my little breedin’ bitch if your brand ain’t just so?” his free hand runs along the underside of your breast before dancing higher, his thumb grazing the tender, tattooed flesh, and you wince, “Be a good whore. Sit pretty, full ‘a cock, while you’re marked with my name, and maybe— just maybe— I won’t lead you ‘round the deck on all fours, leaking my cum from every, abused hole you have, and let those men that used to be loyal to you see just how I fuckin’ ruined their untouchable, little captain.”

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (122-124)

In which Jared and Bryce think they can interact in public without Gabe figuring out they're married, and Chaz Rossi would like to die.

If you want to follow along, the series page is here.

122. Subterfuge

Jared goes to dinner at Gabe and Stephen’s, and it’s nice. Well, nice might not be the right word — Gabe is totally right about the similarities between Jared and Stephen, and if he makes people feel as nervous that he’s judging them fiercely as he feels nervous that Stephen’s judging him fiercely, he is officially sorry.

Those poor Canucks rookies.

Not sorry enough to stop — he doesn’t even think he’s capable of that —

Those poor, poor Canucks rookies.

It’s nice. Would be even nicer if it was the kind of thing him and Bryce could do together, but he knows Bryce isn’t ready for it, and honestly he’s just happy Bryce is willing to meet Gabe at all, even if it’s not as Jared’s husband.

Like, one, progress, but also: hahaha you guys think you can pull this off.

Wins are hard enough to come by for the Oilers without the salt in the wound of a former player getting the game-winner and the insurance goal.

I would like everyone to enjoy the thought of an absolutely incensed Deslauriers during that game.

Neither of the goals against the Oilers were milestones, technically, but Gabe fished the first puck out of the net anyway, got their trainer Dillon to write ‘1st career goal against the Oilers’ on it

Gabe’s such a good A, truly. Would have done that for any of his guys.

If he isn’t careful he’s going to be grinning wide enough to split his face, and that would probably tip Gabe off.

They STILL think they can pull this off.

“My friend Chaz,” Jared says. “He was my linemate on the Hitmen. And um. Chaz’s teammate Bryce is going to be joining in a bit.”

“Nice to meet you,” Gabe says, and when all the introduction pleasantries are over Chaz gives Jared a completely disgusted look.

The way Jared low-key made it sound like Chaz went ‘hey, is it cool if my friend Bryce comes too?’. Chaz is beside himself. Why did he agree to this. (He did it for the lolz. But now that the day has arrived, he is not, in fact, loling)

They talk Juniors for a bit, Gabe telling them about his time with the Knights. He roomed with the captain of the Panthers, which is kind of crazy.

Hi Jake! And love Jared still low-key fanboying players.

“Hey,” Bryce says when he gets to the table, posture almost as awkward as it is when he’s got a mic in his face. “Jared. Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Um. Nice to see you again.”

Chaz wants to die.

Dinner’s awkward. Well, he doesn’t think dinner’s actually awkward from Gabe’s perspective, at least he hopes not? But it’s honestly all Jared can do not to text Bryce under the table to meet him in the bathroom so he can just hug him, not even do anything else

The only thing more uncomfortable than third-wheeling a couple eye-fucking is a couple eye-desperately-clinging-to-one-another-for-dear-life-ing.

The only thing holding Chaz together right now is the group chat. Also the fact Gabe CLEARLY has figured it out so every extra moment of this is a shared suffering, as he now has a fourth wheel.

Jared would make a good spy, he thinks.

Oh my god, Jared.

“So,” Jared says, trying to think of something to say that isn’t ‘finish your beer, Gabe’. “Chaz. Known him for years.”

He is squirming in his seat he wants to leave so badly, and he is very red, and his fake casual voice is extremely stilted. Gabe is feeling deeply fond of him right now.

Gabe takes a sip of beer. It isn’t a big enough sip, in Jared’s opinion.

SQUIRMING. And Gabe’s been with Stephen long enough that he might just be taking his time because it’s hilarious.

“You know you can just tell me you’re married, though.”

“I did?” Jared says.

“I mean to Bryce,” Gabe says.

He’s still Gabe, though, so he doesn’t torture him with it too long.

“You’re both wearing wedding rings,” Gabe says. “Like, matching ones.”

“All wedding rings pretty much look the same,” Jared says.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at him.

“And I know he’s from Vancouver, because that always comes up when we play the Flames,” Gabe says. “And I know that you’re living with your mother-in-law right now.”

“That could be a coincidence?” Jared says weakly.

“Also you haven’t stopped looking at each other all night,” Gabe says. “And not glances or anything, that was full on—”

There is deductive reasoning happening here, but even if Gabe hadn’t noticed any of the other things, the eye pining would have done it. It was not subtle.

What’s he going to say? ‘No, he’s not my husband, I actually spent all dinner eye-fucking a dude who isn’t my husband’? That’s objectively much worse than eye-fucking your own husband, which Jared is morally and legally entitled to do.

It is Jared’s RIGHT and his DUTY.

“Um,” Jared tries, but he’s mostly blank. He’s not great at making excuses at the best of times, and definitely not when he’s been called out and has no proper defence on hand. He would, in fact, make a terrible spy.

I do appreciate that after Jared makes objectively absurd statements he’s often the first to acknowledge that they are, in fact, absurd statements. (Sometimes because they’re only occurring in his head, because fuck knows all his friends would burst out laughing if Jared made the mistake of saying ‘I think I’d make a good spy’ out loud)

“Totally get that,” Gabe says. “I’ve uh. I’ve heard some stuff about him—”

Great. Terrific. Jared’s very favourite topic.

“Before you say anything, he was like — all of that was before we got together,” Jared says. “And he was young and — the shit the media says about him—”

Gabe puts his hands up. Which means they’re off his beer, but Jared thinks he’s been given permission to book it, so that’s okay. “I didn’t mean it accusingly. You know your relationship better than anyone else.”

Couple fun things here — including Jared’s continued hawk eye on Gabe’s drinking speed — but yeah, Jared misinterprets Gabe a LOT at the beginning because Gabe is almost TOO nice, and Jared reads into things that aren’t actually meant any way other than Gabe said it? And here’s another incidence of it — if Jared had let Gabe finish his message it was assuring Jared ‘I vaguely read some shit but I don’t put stock in rumours and media and Bryce has a clean slate with me’. Basically.

“Hey Jared?” Gabe asks.

“Yeah?” Jared says.

“Nice,” Gabe says.

Look man this guy is common-law married to Stephen Petersen and longtime-liney married to Dmitry Kurmazov, he has to have a little bit of troll in him.

Gabe shoos him off, and it’s kind of embarrassing, the speed Jared leaves that restaurant.

Gabe describes this as, and I quote, ‘speed-walking like a snowbird in Florida on a grimly determined constitutional’

(If anyone’s unfamiliar with the term: snowbirds are people, generally retirees, from northern climes, especially Canada (especially ESPECIALLY Quebec) and sometimes the Northeastern US, who spend their winters in warmer climates. They fly south for the winter, like migratory birds. Florida is a particularly popular destination for snowbirds.)

A constitutional is walking (to aid one’s constitution). It’s dated as fuck anywhere outside like, Victorian fiction. I love Gabe.

123. Quiet Night In

Jared is vaguely out of breath when he reaches his apartment, which might say something bad about his cardiovascular fitness. Or, more realistically, it says something embarrassing about the speed he made it home, considering he’s fit enough to handle second line minutes in a damn hockey game.

Snow birded the whole way home, but I think the anticipation have something to do with the shortness of breath.

He takes a moment in front of the door, partly trying to find his key — he’s got way too many on his keychain now — but also so he doesn’t barge in looking like a complete idiot, not that he thinks Bryce would mind, or like, even notice.

Jared has finally accepted how rosy Bryce’s glasses are when it comes to him.

“You’re home early,” Bryce says, and glances at Chaz, in a way Jared can totally see is a ‘Jared’s home, get the hell out of our apartment so we can hug and then fuck’ look, though Chaz appears not to notice.

Chaz notices. Chaz is ignoring it, because it is rude to give that look to your guest.

“He sort of figured out we’re married,” Jared says. “Something about the matching wedding rings and you being from Richmond and the fact we wouldn’t stop staring at each other the whole time.”

There was pining. There was yearning.

“He said he won’t tell anyone,” Jared says. He’ll save the addition of ‘and complimented me on my impeccable taste in men’ for when Chaz is gone. Which should be soon.

“Okay,” Bryce says, and glances over at Chaz again.

The looks they’re both giving Chaz right now almost make dinner subtle in comparison.

“Out of my house,” Jared says. “Now.”

“I’m literally putting my shoes on right now,” Chaz says. “What more do you want from me?”

“Put them on in the hall,” Jared says.

Jared is actually the worst.

“I missed this bed,” Jared says.

“You have the same one at my mom’s,” Bryce says.

“It’s not the same,” Jared says.

“Because I’m not in it?” Bryce says.

Well, also because this one just seems to know Jared’s body, but —

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Pretty much.”

Good use of your brain-to-mouth filter, Jared, you should do it more often.

“Gabe,” Bryce says.

“Oh,” Jared says, suddenly wide awake thanks to the rush of absolute mortification that runs through his body. Bryce was a great distraction from it, but he suspects that conversation is going to occasionally leap at him right when he’s falling asleep for like, the rest of his life.

Jared is so lucky it was Gabe that happened with, and not literally any other person, who would torture him with it for life, as is their right and their duty.

“No,” Jared says.

“But,” Bryce says.

“Wait your turn,” Jared says, doing his best to ignore Bryce looking sadly at him through the glass.

“But I missed you,” Bryce says plaintively.

Tragic. Heartbreaking. About to break Jared’s fragile anti-shower sex agenda.

124. Hospitality

“May the best team win tonight, hey?” his dad says. Erin’s in a Canucks jersey — Jared’s genuinely surprised she isn’t wearing his old Oilers one to troll both him and everyone in the arena, mom must have threatened her or something — but his dad isn’t, is wearing one from Jared’s Hitmen era.

Jared eyes him and his very Calgarian jersey. “That sounds mature of you,” he says.

Jared is correct about his sister, and his suspicions about his father are also correct, because they’re a bunch of gremlins.

“Dad’s very mature now, Jared,” Erin says. “He’s grown up a lot since you went to Vancouver.”

I love Erin.

“You want the Flames to win tonight, don’t you?” Jared guesses.

“You’re a lock!” his dad says. “The Canucks are making the postseason no matter what! The Flames need this game!”

“Don,” his mom says.

“I’m just saying that one team needs this game more than the other team does,” his dad mutters.

“You want Bryce to beat me tonight,” Jared says. “Like — just to be clear, you want Bryce to beat me? You want your only son to lose this game to Bryce Marcus. Bryce Marcus.”

“Fuck off,” his dad mutters.

“Don!” his mom says.

Jared can’t stop grinning. “I’m really proud of you, dad,” he says.

Simultaneously character growth and character regression because Don Matheson, everyone.

They look all — familial, Jared guesses? Like Elaine’s officially part of the family now, like there’s a Marcus-Matheson tribe. She’s probably going out with them before the game, sticking around after Jared flies out, staying in his and Bryce’s guest room, her and Bryce going to his parents’ place for dinner, eating his dad’s food while all the Mathesons pretend to be nice people for the length of her visit.

At a certain point is it still pretending, or do the Mathesons become nice people when Elaine’s around?

It’s weird how that makes Jared happier than it does like, left out? But good, he guesses. Like, he’ll probably end up sulking about not getting to stick around and eat his dad’s cooking and watch his family pretend they aren’t evil so that they don’t scare Elaine away, but the fact that they’re doing it even when Jared isn’t there, that they want to hang out is — nice. Nice in the same way seeing pictures of Bryce and Chaz and Ash hanging out together makes Jared feel — grateful it’s happening even if he can’t be there.

Jared feels selfless happiness for others and is confused by it.

They’re all chirping him, but Julius’ text is straight up mean. Jared sends back a mean one of his own, and in response Julius gets even meaner. It’s making Jared feel a little better.

Look at Julius knowing exactly what Jared needs.

miss you already Bryce texts, just after Jared replies to a text from Julius saying he hopes the Canucks make it to the Conference Finals. Which sounds nice, but Jared totally knows he means ‘and so do the Flames so you have to play against your husband, bitch’.

It means exactly that. Though Jared added the ‘bitch’ himself.

Soft, Jared replies, but can’t help but add a You too, because he’s also soft, he guesses. But only for Bryce. Julius is getting another mean text.

The duality of Jared.

“Kind of surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner,” Stephen says. “It was all over hockey news when it happened.”

“I was pretty much just following the Flames and playing my own game back then,” Jared says. “Also I was like, twelve?”

This was the meanest thing Jared could say and he wasn’t even trying.

“You’re a baby,” Stephen says.

“Hey,” Jared says.

“An infant,” Stephen says. “Maybe a toddler.”

“I am not a toddler,” Jared says.

“Kindergarten at most,” Stephen says.

Look how fast Jared’s growing!

“Twenty-one,” Stephen mutters. “Jesus christ.”

“Does it help that Bryce is twenty-four?” Jared asks.

“Does it—” Stephen says. “He’s twenty-four? You met — you were a baby.”

Jared is suddenly aware that it does not help that Bryce is twenty-four.

You would think at some point Jared would learn this, but you would be wrong.

“Do I need to call your mother?” Stephen asks.

“Stephen,” Gabe says.

“I’m calling your mother,” Stephen says. “What’s her number.”

As much as Gabe and Stephen never want Jared to meet their parents? Jared is suddenly just as intent that Stephen never meets his father. He feels like it wouldn’t go well for him.

“Stephen,” Gabe says. “Stop, he looks petrified.”

“I know,” Stephen says. “It’s hilarious.”

Jared can only DREAM of becoming Stephen Petersen one day.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to kill my evil(ish) symbiote?

For context, I (19F) am an adventurer. I come from a small town, but I really like to travel and fight and explore. Also for context, one of the gods in our continent's pantheon doesn't really exist anymore— they used to be a sentient entity like all the other gods, but wanted to become 'more' than that, so they gave up all of their conscious thought, emotions, stuff like that, and locked all that stuff away in a tower to basically become more of an omniscient force of nature, like a law of physics. That tower was in my small town, and a few years back, something messed up broke out and escaped from it. We've just been calling it the shadow.

So, my best friend (19F) and I had been adventuring around our town for a few years, and a couple times now, we'd been accosted by this shadow monster. It started two years ago. It had basically been jumping from body to body, surviving in the bodies of animals and random people and corrupting them to attack us. After a particularly dangerous mission out of town, I fought with it, and it promised to kill everyone I love before immediately darting away. I panicked and we raced back home, but it got there before we did, and it had attacked my dad and injured him really badly. A really powerful family friend at the time managed to fight it off, and as I got back, the shadow realized I had some pretty powerful associates and became interested in me, and decided it wanted me to be its host. So it jumped into one of my tattoos and, essentially, became a symbiote. For the most part, it just talked to me (it was a real asshole), but it also gave me powers that could make me fight better, and even brought me back up from the brink of death a few times. But it also used magic to charm me once when I didn't do what it said, and even took control of my body to help us win a really brutal fight. I learned that what it wanted was to build itself a body of its own. Since it was basically made up of all the parts of a god that it didn't want and was imprisoned in a tower for what felt like eternity, it had been through a lot and only really knew being cast off. We learned more about each other and were times it felt like we were even starting to bond. But it still hated me and I still hated it.

After we managed to save our town, both of us decided this arrangement couldn't work anymore, so the shadow offered two options: we could wait several years as it started to build a new body as the body incubated, or we could go on a trip to try and find it a new host. I did not want to wait that long, so we started to travel together. It took about a year, and to tell you the truth we sort of bonded a bit along the way! There were times when we would laugh and joke together, it saved me a couple times, I learned more about it. It seems like it just wanted to have a real body and be able to interact with the world more than anything else. But it still attacked my dad and hurt my friend and charmed me before. It's hard to forget that stuff. After months of traveling, I stowed away on a pirate airship, where I learned the captain was a witch who was going to die soon. This is where it gets a bit iffy: I knew she was going to die. Like, soon. So I tried to offer her as a host to the shadow, because I figured if she died, the shadow would probably die too. It turns out, it was listening in, and it knew she was dying too, so it got really hurt and offended that I was trying to kill it. It found a different host instead, and now things are really awkward between us. On one hand, I did try to deceive and kill it while it was in a very vulnerable position, and also tried to foist a malevolent shadow monster off on a dying woman. That's sort of bad. On the other, like, it is (was?) evil! And did all that bad stuff! And maybe it's better for the world that it's not alive? I don't know. I feel a bit guilty. AITA?

[flavored-soda]

ok i’m talk about hen because god, i love her.

henrietta wilson and her character and storyline is very personal to me. without giving too much away about my personal life, she is very very similar to my sister. so its safe to say, she has my whole heart.

a lot of the talk (on my feed) lately around 7x04 and 7x05 has been about buck, which is fair, and you create your own feed yada yada. but i wanna talk about hen and her storyline(s) this season.

i will preface this by once again saying that hen’s character means a lot to me because she reminds me so much of my sister, so i’m going to have bias, and my view is going to be different and probably very opinionated and i’m aware of that.

we’re gonna start with the things i’m loving so far this season:

the first being that i love captain hen. it makes so much sense to me that hen would be the one to fill in for bobby (i can elaborate on that if y’all want just scream at me in my asks).

i love that we are seeing more interactions between hen and maddie. i think it’s really important that we see their relationship not only because maddie is chimney’s wife, but also because she’s buck’s sister. and hen obviously cares about the both of them so much, so to see hen interacting with the people that love the people she loves is mwuah so good!

the current henren storyline is so important. i love love love their growth as foster parents and i think mara’s story is going to be equally heartbreaking and heartwarming. i’m just excited to see how she fits into the wilson family.

now the things i’m not loving:

the fact that maddie was the one to call everyone in instead of hen. i feel like hen has never been wrong when it comes to her gut?? i can understand the fact that if she was going to get in trouble, she was just going to get herself alone in trouble, but have we not learned by now that there is strength in numbers?

the henren and mara storyline being put in 7x05. i’ve said before that 7x05 felt very rushed and i don’t like that there were three major storylines packed into one episode on top of the calls that the team goes on. in general i would’ve liked to see all the storylines in 7x05 be in their own episode with the calls instead of the chaos and the rush that is the 7x05. but the mara storyline is definitely one i’m invested in and i would love to see it handled with care and not rushed like the entirety of the latest episode was.

finally what i would like to see for hen, henren, and the wilson family in general:

i want to see more maddie and hen scenes. and more henren and madney scenes. we get a lot of emotional and hilarious screen time with chimney and hen but we don’t really see them interact with each other’s families outside of the 118. i would just love to see more of that. especially since both henren and madney have kids and i just want to see something that shows the parents of show interacting.

and to piggyback off of that, i want to see more eddie and hen!!! we don’t see much of their relationship but i think it makes sense the two would be close and hang out outside of work especially because denny and chris are close in age. once again, i just want to see the parents of the show interact more outside of calls.

now i’m gonna bring buck into this. i would love to see a scene between buck and hen regarding buck coming out. i just know would be so nurturing and supportive but also ready to tease the hell out of him especially after hearing how the first bucktommy date went.

lastly, i want to see how mara’s story plays out more than anything. it’s not going to be easy and i am so looking forward to the angst of it all but also the fluff and growth of hen’s character and the entire wilson family.

that’s majority of it (i have so many thoughts about hen, but they’re personal since she does remind me of my sister) but please feel free to come scream with me in my asks!!

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (pt. 2)

Despite his young age, Martin's the captain for the Arsenal for a reason. He's calm and collected most of the time and opponents rarely could ever entice any provoking display of emotion from him. But there's one person in London Colney that rubs him in all the wrong way... yet he wants to help her?

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.5k

Note: turns out i can't put the words into 2-part stories so here we go, it's turning into a mini series! (is this a good news for you, odegirlies?) but it won't be longer than 5-part, though, as i'm working on the ending as we speak. oh and beware of the dialogues that's spiking in number than in pt. 1. but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so this is ofc not proof-read. feedbacks are also always welcome! hope you like them as much as i like writing them!

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

Tags: @julianalvarez9 @notleclerc <3 (lemme know if you want to be included!)

“Eve,”

The owner of the name jumped in her seat. “Martin.”

You must’ve thought Martin officially helping Eve would melt the ice as big as the Antarctica between them? No, not a chance.

No matter how many times Martin had graced the front desk with his presence—of which the the amount had increased significantly by a grand total of two times since their first ever conversation a while ago—Eve couldn’t shake off the feeling of being surprised.

Probably because she was, considering Martin always dropped by in times she least expected him to. And considering the fact they didn’t share any other interaction during the same length of time between their monumental event—as she liked to call the first time Martin had spoken to her—and present.

Yes, unfortunately Martin had resorted back to his old habit of shrugging off her morning greetings, and she didn’t know what and how else to engage him without revealing their secret plan.

Maybe she’d hoped for the stars. But in all honesty, she didn’t expect Martin to go full on bright replying her like Bukayo always did—a small smile would be more than enough, considering where and how far Martin and Eve had come from.

Maybe he was sticking true to his part of this plan of theirs. They did agree that their first—and last—appearance at the Christmas party would be a surprise nobody could’ve seen coming. If he did concede to Eve’s signature good morning in front of Louisa, the building would’ve sniffed the bloody smell in less than 15 minutes.

“I’ve got another package.”

“Ah, yeah, just in time,” At this point, Eve was already a master in hiding her disappointed expression that Martin still considered her as nothing more than mailbox. “Another one for Martin Odellson. Quite a creative name, by the way.”

“Glad you think my way of evading stalker’s creative,” Martin didn’t smile much, especially around her, but maybe it was for the best. The small tug on the corner of his lips became so much valuable than it was. “Where’s Louisa?”

“She’s off early today, sick and all,” Eve handed him the form to sign and his package beside them. “Why’d you ask?”

No, nope. She swore to God she’d asked purely out of curiosity, not because she’d wondered what she hadn’t done that earned Louisa of Martin’s acknowledgement before Eve ever did, despite being half a year being Louisa’s senior.

“Good riddance, then,” Eve couldn’t believe her ears of Martin’s words. That’d got to be the vilest sentence that came out from the good captain’s mouth, bar the things he spitted to express his exasperation on the pitch. “How’s the dress I sent you? It fits you fine, I take it?”

Right, the evening gown that shocks me to the very last of particles. “Yeah, about that…”

Martin hummed, encouraging her to continue, as his hands moved to curve his signature on the form.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

The Norwegian finished off the last cursive as he pointed her another blank look. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t know how to get a hold of you without being suspected by everyone in this building and their mothers?” Oh, it felt so good to throw back Martin’s Mr-Know-It-All look for once. “Have you ever thought of it that way?”

But Martin didn’t slip on his feet. The captain threw the same amount of isn’t-obvious look to her. “You have my phone number.”

“Wait, I can text you?”

Eve was meaning to throw him some sarcastic reply but Martin genuinely didn’t think much of it. “Why do you think you can’t?”

“You don’t exactly give off the vibe that I can,” How dare he rolls his eyes at me now?! “About the gown, though. I’m afraid I’ll have to return them to you.”

“Why, it doesn’t fit you or something?” He shifted his weight away from his left leg, his head leaning to the same direction in confusion. “Do I get your size wrong?”

Eve really couldn’t fathom that look, that very look of pure confusion plastered all over his face. As if she was acting strange, as if it didn’t concern him for once that he’d get hold of her size without asking Eve herself.

The last one, though—she promised herself to ask him next time. “No, but it’s Oscar de La Renta.”

“And?”

“And? And?” Martin had to steer his head away five inches back, due to the outburst. “That gown costs my entire arm!”

“But I’m sure you look beautiful in it.”

No will look, no going to. As if it was the present, the long withstanding fact.

Eve had to give it to Martin if this was the game he always plays with whomever he’s romantically involved in. He played his cards with the minds of Mikel Arteta and the face of a poker player. “Well, that’s—”

“You don’t deny it so I must be right,” Eve could sigh in resignation. She didn’t know Martin could be stone-headed, but then her knowledge of him was rather limited. “I don’t see the reason to return them to me, then.”

“But it makes me feel cheap, okay?” Eve let out another deep breath because while the sentence carried out a heavy weight, somehow talking to Martin—as much as she hated spelling it out for his clueless self—made it better. “Like you pay me for acting well.”

Martin let out a breath that was borderline scoffing, and Eve decided she didn’t like it one bit. “You know that is never my intention, Eve. Never, you hear me? You think of it too much,”

And before the gaping mouth of hers could produce another sound, Martin shut her down. “You feel like that because you let yourself think that way. Me, on the other hand, is helping you gather whatever’s dignity stolen from you because I want to,”

Eve had to hold back an audible gasp when Martin’s eyes zeroed back at her, and she—for a stupid, split moment—thought how his opponents didn’t cower under his stare. It felt so intense, so… intimate, too, in their case. As if one word from her would shatter the thin bubble they were in.

“If it’s any help, no one deserves to be treated the way Bob did to you. I can’t stand that, regardless who they are,” But the smile etched in his face didn’t fade at all, resembling him to the Joker on a mission. “You just happen to be someone I’m well-acquainted of.”

And there it was.

Well-acquainted of.

As if he didn’t just make her feel beautiful before the word came crashing down on her.

“If it makes you feel better about it, you can always pay it back.”

Martin really didn’t get the memo to leave her alone for a minute, did he?

“It’d take me a thousand years to pay you back,” Eve couldn’t help but to roll her eyes this time around. “Not everyone earns a hundred thousand pounds a week, Martin.”

“Then do me a favour, since I’ve done one,” The eagerness in his eyes didn’t dim for a second, hands now placed on the desk between them. The determination Eve could notice as he leaned in was actually a sight to be held—if he grazed the grass a bit here—and she could understand why the rest of the team was willing to fight alongside him and Mikel. “Let someone take care of you for a night,”

Eve didn’t bother to let the gasp escape her lips.

“Let me do that for you, at least, as my parting gift.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

Eve so officially hated Martin Ødegaard.

Martin had texted her a couple of hours just before he was supposed to pick her up, that he couldn’t do the first part of the charade a.k.a the red carpet, because he had to do all the media duties for Christmas week and pre-party stuffs. Eve knew it was his obligation as a well-loved player but good God, they were supposed to come to the party together, not just being seen together. Why didn’t he finish those things before tonight, anyway?

Well, the good old Norsk insisted it was going to look better on her because they would swoop everyone more speechless than they intended before hanging up on her.

How was she supposed to tell him that a big part of her confidence, especially when wearing this overpriced peace of clothing, came from having him near her?

Everyone had been complimenting how good she looked with the gown or how fantastic the colour complimented her complexion, but Eve couldn’t help but still feel like a fraud. She might be thanking them in honesty but when Martin joined her later, nothing that came out of her mouth would be genuine, nothing more than a set of practiced lies she and Martin had planned beforehand. She wasn’t good at lying at the first place, adding the reason why she so badly needed her partner-in-crime to be here with her.

Relax, Eve. No one knows you’re here with Martin yet, which means you’re still not lying to anyone yet, she said to herself. She sounded more like she hypnotised herself at this point but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted to take a revenge on her heartbreak without feeling too much guilt eating her from inside out.

“I don’t recall you being invited here,” Oh, speaking of the devil, complete in flesh and blood. “Who’s your link?”

“I don’t recall they can let in a piece of jerk inside,” Don’t look at him, Eve. You’re much stronger than that. “Who’s your link?”

“You don’t answer my question.”

She still didn’t spare him a look, no matter how much her eyes caught on his movements. “It’s a question that doesn’t deserve an answer.”

Bob scoffed, the very one that he gave when he felt oh so superior. Eve realised now that he used to give her the same kind so much when they were dating. “You know we’ll find out soon enough, don’t you?”

“Certainly not from me,” Eve was so ready to puke at the sight of him, she’d never hated Martin more than now for not blocking her direct view of this scumbag. “You know how much I hate giving attention to any attention seeker.”

Before Bob could retaliate Eve’s attack, a familiar warmth stepped in beside her. “I’m sorry I’m late, Angel.”

On any other circumstances, Martin’s hand slithering its way on Eve’s back and his lips touching the side of her head would definitely give her a stroke. This time, knowing she’d have him on her side for the rest of the night, was turning to warm all over her body with a familiar sense of security. Probably an abundance of comfort, too—not that she’d tell him that now.

But at least, she let him know how relieved she was that he was now here with her as they shared looks when he continued, “Media duties, you know?”

Martin welcomed the underlying gratefulness from Eve and smiled at the tiniest form of communication only two of them understood. Oh, so much had changed the past weeks between them—she took a mental note to treat him something of his liking with her severance pay for understanding her without words.

Eve shot him back a smile, this time her eyes followed by a teasing glint and he somehow knew she was in to kill the man bothering her. “Oh, how would I know, really? I mean, this is my first rodeo having a footballer boyfriend.”

Martin’s smile widened at her unprecedented choice of words to jab the frozen ex-boyfriend they both unanimously and silently decided to ignore. “Then I shall show you what you’ve been missing on, baby.”

“Fancy seeing you here, Martin.”

If it wasn’t because of the music, her ex-boyfriend would certainly not miss the deep growl Martin unconsciously let out overlaying the deep sigh.

“Ah, yes, Bob. I see you haven’t lost your inner arsehole,” Martin smiling when he didn’t mean it was the scariest kind of Martin, Eve had come to realise. “Was he bothering you at all, Angel?”

Eve knew they were only spitting their rehearsed line but she could see Martin’s eyes were blazing with real fire burning, even though he didn’t spare her a glance—heck, he was busy sizzling Bob down. She could only hope she wouldn’t be at the other end of that stare, ever.

“Angel?”

Martin didn’t need to look back at Eve to know the answer to that; her head shaking lightly against his suit was enough of an answer. Which relieved him because he hated going to the media duties, knowing he’d leave her exposed for anyone to see at the party.

“Good,” As a result of his dangerous thought, he pulled Eve closer by the waist, hating more at the possible number of men trying to talk her out of here before he came. “I’d hate to break some legs on this beautiful night.”

“I didn’t know you’re together.”

“I don’t see the reason to tell the whole world I’m dating someone else,” Eve had been waiting all week for Martin to throw any punchline—he’d spoilt her with his discreet desire to verbally punch him since physical brawl isn’t allowed—at Bob for bringing his mistress to the physio internal party. “You see, that’s the difference between being truly famous and trying to be popular with the crowd. We’d like to keep most of our matters private.”

Sweet mama. Eve was starting to not regret having Martin as her date. No one else delivered those lines with such precision without having to literally look Bob from head to toe in disgust—his own fame and achievement had already done it for him.

“But I thought you—”

“Why are you surprised anyway? Are you starting to regret dumping her now she’s with me?”

Their script didn’t go as far as this phase, should they encounter Bob confronting Eve. But damn, Eve couldn’t stop marvelling how Martin sounded protective of her. Like they were real.

Which was a very dangerous thought, she had to add in bold.

“Don’t you ought to say thank you to me for dumping her?”

Martin might not show it in his face but he was seething with anger at merely the sight of this guy. Now he had the nerve to say that? If it wasn’t because of Eve’s hand traveling on his back, bringing him down to Earth where Eve was there with him and the last thing he’d like to do was to embarrass her, he would’ve definitely started a brawl. Consequences be damned. “You should be the one thanking me for not pursuing her from the very first day I came to the club. Now, will you excuse us because I’d like my girlfriend to meet people I care about.”

Eve’s heart took another deep plunge to the trench for reasons she was confused herself. Was it because how proud she was of Martin showing who was the boss or for was it because how natural the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled out of his tongue?

Eve took another mental note to tell Martin slow down with the whole couple thing or she might fall into the same deception everyone else received from their acts tonight.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

The outcome of the altercation between Martin and Eve’s ex-boyfriend, despite the captain trying to handle it low and classy, was that the entire room was reduced to silence.

Some were astounded at how Martin could lose control over his temper outside the pitch. Some others were more astonished at the sight of Martin coming to Eve’s aid—with a side kiss, mind you!—when the entire Emirates Stadium at this point that Martin had never brushed shoulder with the woman during his stint in Arsenal’s shirt so far.

Eve could feel herself slowly shrinking under everyone’s prying eyes because it was totally overwhelming for someone who had always been a fan of Arsenal, not the other way around. Unlike Martin, whom everyone and their mothers idolised.

“Breathe, Angel,” Eve even jumped at Martin’s whisper, as he led her towards their table with a gentle nudge feathering across her open back, because none of this was what she signed up for. She only agreed to steal the thunder from Bob and the wench, not to direct the spotlight to her. “You’re doing great.”

She hissed under her breath, “How on Earth could you play in a full-packed stadium?!”

“Let them be,” Martin maneuverer her from his left to his right, hands still placed firmly on her hips, bar the subtle movement of back and forth towards her belly to slightly ease her nerves. “I have the prettiest gem of all, after all.”

Martin must be talking about someone else.

“Don’t blame me if I puke on your expensive shoes.”

The free, unfiltered laughter from Martin left Eve in a further bewildered state it left her breathless. For his entire facial features lit up in the way the lighting above was only able to pronounce them more beautifully than usual. “Then talk to me, what are you thinking now?”

“Angel?” Now that they were seated for the formal charity gala that was about to start, along with the rest of the leadership team, Eve could finally confront the one thing that had been bothering her so far into the night. “Really, Martin?”

Martin slid his arm behind her, perching comfortably on top of the chair, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Like everything in this setting was his habitat, and Eve tried to tone down the shudder than ran on her back at the thought Martin was cunning as the con-artist Eve had expected to save her arse the first time he’d offered his help.

But at that precise point, Eve could care less about the remaining of their table. She couldn’t look away at the crease he made due to his movement of leaning in too close to her, the shirt hugging his body deliciously perfectly. The music in the background could swallow their conversation anyway.

“Your name’s Evangeline, no?”

Martin’s tone wasn’t challenging but the glint on his eyes teasingly said the otherwise. I’d like to see you try, those Nordic Ocean blue eyes said, and she had no other choice but to fall deep down the abyss. “It is—”

 “Then why fight me?”

“Because nobody calls me like that.”

“Exactly why I’m calling you that,” Martin loved getting a reaction out of a flustered Eve, so he did just that. He leaned in, so much closer to her she could sniff his perfume, and my God was it more intoxicating than the expensive champagne rolled in every minute. “What kind of boyfriend am I to call you like everyone else? Where’s the speciality card for the boyfriend?”

Eve stiffened at his charge; her mind went white all of the sudden. “How do you know my full name, by the way?”

Martin couldn’t help but smirk at her futile attempt to hide her nervousness. “I know a lot more about you than you think I do.”

There went Eve’s existence, dissolved into the air at Martin’s words. She should really gather herself before she went down the drain that Martin had—rather on false pretense, on top of that—been leading her. Think, Eve! Think of something! You cannot succumb to the pressure! “Ugh, how can beat that nickname? It can’t get more original than yours.”

Martin actually laughed from her futile attempt to hide her flustered self. “I’d like to see you try, solskinn.”

*solskinn means “sunshine” in norwegian. but cmiiw.