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sesamestreep · 9 months ago

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30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 9

Write about a heated debate (from this list) ➸ set in the Bakeoff AU AGAIN, because after my last fic, I wanted to write more Milly content and also it’s been a rough few days and I need to be silly and self-indulgent or I shall perish!! Based on an Instagram Reel I sent to @firstelevens the other day and that we’ve been spinning into a kid fic concept ever since. It grew out of control and I don’t know if it technically fits the prompt, but it’s what I got for you nonetheless. Bon appetit I guess???

“Euuuugghhh! Daaaaad!”

“What? What’s the matter?” Foggy asks from his spot in the kitchen. That tone of voice from his daughter is never a good sign, but he’s mostly used to hearing it when he and Matt are being particularly disgusting about how much they love each other. As Matt is still in the shower currently, he knows that can’t be the reason.

“What did you put on this?” Milly asks, holding up a piece of toast accusatorially. If she ends up following in their career footsteps someday, her cross-examinations are going to be brutal.

“Cinnamon and sugar, as requested,” Foggy answers, coming to stand across the counter from her. It’s a long way from the elaborate recipes he used to make with his spare time—which he no longer has—and when he was on Bake-Off, but it’s one of his daughter’s favorite breakfasts despite its simplicity. Well, it normally is. She’s currently staring daggers at him, so it must not be her favorite right now.

Milly shakes her head at him, like he’s a moron or maybe, more accurately, like they’re going to have to send him to a home soon if he keeps this up. “Not cinnamon,” she says, holding the offensive piece of toast out to him.

Before he can take a bite (his original plan, to illustrate that she’s being silly and unnecessarily picky), the smell reaches his nose and it doesn’t take an extremely experienced baker to know that’s not cinnamon. He brings it closer to sniff it again and makes himself cough. To confirm his suspicion, he returns to the cabinet where they store their spices and looks at the jar he used to make Milly’s toast a few minutes ago and, yep, there it is.

“Paprika,” he says. “I made you paprika toast.”

“Paprika and sugar,” Milly says, in that same enjoy your time in the retirement home, old man tone of voice.

“They look similar in the bottle,” Foggy says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Same color, I mean.”

“Do they smell the same?” she asks, innocently.

“Listen, you—”

“And are they spelled the same way?” she asks, thoughtfully. “You know, when you read the bottle before pouring it over my toast? You did read the bottle first, right?”

“Mills, I’m not kidding, if you can spell ‘paprika’ or ‘cinnamon’ for me right now, I will give you twenty dollars out of my wallet,” he says. “Otherwise, I don’t want to hear it!”

“I don’t know—”

“Exactly!”

“I’m eight! What’s your excuse?”

“For one thing, my eight year old daughter won’t stop tricking her babysitter into letting her watch scary movies and then crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep,” Foggy says, grabbing the plate from her. “How’s that?”

“Don’t throw it away!” Milly calls.

Foggy pauses. “Baby, you don’t have to eat it. I’ll make you more with actual cinnamon.”

Milly looks at him like he’s grown an extra head. “I know,” she says, slowly. “I just wanted to show Dada what you did.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes and returning the plate. “Just for that, maybe I won’t make you more toast.”

“Sure, starve me for telling the truth. That’ll go over great with the other trusted adults in my life when I snitch on you.”

“It’ll never hold up in court,” Foggy replies, already putting two more slices of bread into the toaster.

“Besides,” she says, ignoring him and popping a sliced strawberry into her mouth. “I don’t crawl into your bed, I crawl into Dada’s.”

“It’s the same bed,” he explains. “Just because you cuddle with Dada and kick me all night doesn’t make it any less my bed. And what’s up with that, anyway? I have it on good authority that I’m the more cuddly of the two of us. Why don’t you ever snuggle me?”

“You want it too bad,” she says, taking a two-handed drink of her orange juice.

“Devil child,” he mutters. His mother once told him, when he and Matt were first looking into adoption, that your children will act as cosmic comeuppance for all the things you put your poor parents through as a child yourself and he hadn’t believed her. Maybe he just thought that, because Milly didn’t share any DNA with them, that his and Matt’s most exhausting qualities wouldn’t rear their ugly heads in her at all. And, boy, love her as he does, he was wrong on that count.

“Dada would never do this to me,” Milly continues, happily. “And he can’t even see! Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“About looking into boarding schools?” Foggy asks. “Definitely.”

“Mean!”

“You’re saying you’d miss me?”

“No,” Milly says, crossing her arms. “But I’d miss Dada and my friends and my teachers and Aunt Daisy and—ooh, can I borrow your phone?”

“Why?”

“I want to text Aunt Daisy a picture of the paprika toast.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come onnnnn,” she whines. “She’ll think it’s funny!”

“That’s exactly why I’m not giving you my phone.”

“You’re no fun,” Milly grumbles, sinking down to rest her chin on the counter dejectedly. Her head immediately pops up again when Matt appears behind her. “Dada! Wait til you see what your husband did!”

Matt stops to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Please don’t say your hair because it feels…uh, chaotic?”

“I haven’t even gone near it this morning,” Foggy says, as he fetches the toast that’s just popped out of the toaster. “That’s all natural.”

“Well, that’s something,” Matt replies, coming into the kitchen. “So, what did you do?”

“He made me cinnamon toast,” Milly interrupts, enthusiastically. “Here, try it!”

As with Foggy, the toast doesn’t even make it to Matt’s mouth before he’s frowning. “That’s…not cinnamon, honey.”

Milly cackles while Foggy glares at her. “I made a small mistake,” Foggy says, over the chorus of his daughter’s laughter.

“What is that? Chili powder?” Matt asks, sniffing delicately.

“Paprika.”

“Oh.”

“And I have been soundly roasted for my error,” Foggy says, mostly in Milly’s direction. “So, I don’t want to hear it from you, okay?”

Matt shrugs. “Okay.”

“Apparently, you would never make such a mistake in your life, because you’re a good dad and I’m some sort of rodeo clown who ended up here by mistake.”

Matt looks at him, very clearly stifling a laugh. “She only thinks that because she’s led a charmed life where I almost never make her breakfast,” he says. “Give it a week, she’ll be begging for you back.”

“You’d just let me eat fruit snacks for breakfast,” Milly says, as Foggy puts her new breakfast down in front of her.

“Yes, and then you wouldn’t have all the nutrients you need to learn new things at school and get smart enough to become the first female president of the United States,” Foggy says. “And then where would we be?”

“There better be a female president before I’m old enough,” Milly says, darkly and with a mouth full of toast.

“Better eat a balanced breakfast just to be safe,” Matt says, pushing off the counter to go find some coffee. “And be nice to your dad.”

“How will that help me become President?”

“People skills,” Matt says.

“Surviving into adulthood,” Foggy says, at the same time.

Milly blows a raspberry at him, but eats the new toast without complaint. Matt’s scouting around for the sugar bowl now and Foggy stops him with a hand on his elbow.

“I already put sugar in it for you,” he says.

Matt smiles. “I don’t care what Milly says. You’re the best rodeo clown a kid could hope for, and a very good husband too.”

“Thanks,” Foggy replies, and allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. He gets to enjoy that for about ten seconds before Milly makes another disgusted noise behind him. He sighs and pulls back. “What’s wrong with the toast now?”

“Nothing,” Milly exclaims. “It’s you two that are grossing me out!”

“Sorry your dads are in love with each other,” Matt says, with a smile and a faint blush. “You live a tough life.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Milly says, as she shoves an improbably large bite of her toast into her mouth without issue. She’s not even finished chewing when she asks, “Will you walk me to school today, Dada?”

“Why? Are you worried I’ll do that wrong too?” Foggy asks, putting an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“I’d be happy to, baby,” Matt interjects before Milly can say something smart-alecky back to him. “Go get dressed, okay?”

Mill hops down from her chair happily and practically skips to her room. Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his nose.

“What’s up with you two?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She’s just pushing my buttons.”

“Successfully,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, well,” Foggy shrugs. “I slept half the night with her foot in my face while she cuddled with you. I’m a little cranky, I guess.”

“Feeling left out?” Matt asks, smiling, as he turns to wrap his arms around Foggy’s middle.

“I’m definitely the cuddliest person in this household and I want it acknowledged.”

“I agree,” Matt says, kissing him on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to Milly. She’s a maniac.”

“She takes after you.”

“Not true. I love to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, leaning in to kiss him again.

“We could make that happen, you know,” Foggy says against his lips. “Drop the kid off at school, cancel our appointments for today, play hooky from our responsibilities, stay in bed all day…”

Matt seems to be thinking it over, tempted. “We couldn’t,” he says, not quite convincingly.

“We could. I know our bosses and, trust me, they’d want us to get laid.”

“I’ve said it before but those guys are weird,” Matt jokes. “They’re honestly too involved in our sex lives.”

“Yeah, it’s an HR nightmare,” Foggy replies, kissing him again.

“You two better not still be kissing when I come back,” Milly hollers from the bathroom, where she’s brushing her teeth (or so Foggy guesses from the sound of running water).

“We definitely will be,” Foggy shouts back, as Matt collapses into his shoulder laughing.

“I’m going to go attempt to get our daughter’s hair fit for public appearance,” Matt says, giving Foggy another quick kiss on the lips.

“And I’m going to text Kate that we’ll be in late this morning.”

Matt pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Foggy consults his watch. “Our first appointment is at 11. I can do plenty to you in that amount of time.”

Matt looks a little startled by that, but not in a bad way. “Kate’s going to know what that text means, you know.”

“That just means there will be someone to share in Milly’s pain over us being disgustingly in love after all these years. Unless that’s your way of saying no?”

“Definitely not. Just warning you that we’ll get a lot of grief for it later.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You always do,” Matt replies, and Foggy’s definitely not being conceited when he says Matt’s tone sounds downright dreamy.

He heads off to help Milly finish getting ready and Foggy tackles the few dishes in the sink while he waits for another pot of coffee to finish brewing. A few minutes later, Milly appears in the kitchen, dressed and with her hair pulled into a neat bun. Neither of them can do anything particularly fancy with her hair, not least because she won’t sit still long enough for all that, but Matt does a good job for someone who’s never had long hair or siblings. A now presentable Milly pulls her backpack and coat off the hook on the wall and stops by Foggy’s side expectantly.

“What do you need, kiddo?” he asks, as he dries his hands on the towel hanging by the stove.

“Hug goodbye,” she says, lifting her arms towards him and he kneels to capture her in a big hug.

When she finally pulls back, she still looks hesitant, like there’s something she needs to ask him. It once again strikes him as crazy how much she reminds him of Matt sometimes.

“What’s the matter?” Foggy asks, tucking a picturesque loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You feel alright? Is all that paprika I fed you bothering your stomach?”

Milly shakes her head, looking away. “I just wanted to—Dada said that his dad would have made him eat that gross toast because they never wasted food when he was little.”

“Did he?” Foggy asks, already making a mental note to kick Matt’s ass when they’re alone together. “Listen, baby, your Grandpa Jack, he…didn’t have a lot of help when your Dada was young. They had to be really careful with their money and Dada was in the hospital for a while…”

“I know,” Milly says, nodding. “I’m just—thank you for making me new toast, instead.”

Foggy feels a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow past. “Hey, you don’t have to thank me for that, okay? It’s my job to make your life as good as it possibly can be. Even if I have to make you a hundred pieces of toast every morning.”

“That would be expensive.”

“Still,” Foggy says, firmly. “I’m sorry if what Dada said made you upset.”

Milly scrunches up her face like she’s eating the paprika toast all over again. “He said it like it was funny,” she says, mildly horrified.

“God, okay,” Foggy replies, running a hand over his face. Matt would consider that a charming anecdote about his father. Speaking of people who are going to need a hug from him… “Don’t worry about that. Just have a good day at school, okay?”

“Okay,” Milly says, all concern gone as she hops in place excitedly.

Matt appears around the corner then, pulling on his coat. “Ready?”

“Just gotta get my shoes,” Milly shouts as she zooms off in the direction of the door.

“Alright,” Matt says, as he comes into the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, as he leans in to kiss him goodbye. “Oh, and maybe no more stories about your dad before school, yeah?”

Matt blinks at him. “What? Why?”

“We’ve talked about how sometimes the anecdotes from your childhood that you think are charming and scrappy are actually alarming to the people who love you now,” Foggy says, gently.

“Yeah…” Matt says, uncertainly, before his expression clears. “Oh. Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Foggy replies, rubbing his back. “I already explained that she can ask for as much food as she wants. Just maybe reinforce that with her on your way to school?”

Matt looks pale and queasy even as he nods. “Right. God, I didn’t—I’m sorry—”

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“And you still want to play hooky from work with me, even though I’m the world’s biggest idiot?”

Foggy kisses him on the forehead. “Of course. You’re still a very cute idiot.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen, I told Milly it’s my job to make her life as good as possible, and that’s true, but it’s also my job to do that for you. And right now, the best way to make your life better is to take you back to bed and—”

“Ready!” Milly shouts as she skids around the corner. “Are you guys still kissing?! What about my education?”

“She’s right, you know,” Matt says, pulling back and looking a bit better, though still tremulous. “We’re terrible parents.”

“Maybe I should look into boarding schools, after all,” Foggy jokes, crossing his eyes goofily at Milly over Matt’s shoulder.

“I’m never going to be President at this rate,” Milly laments.

“Alright, let’s get you to school,” Matt says, holding out his hand for her.

Foggy leans down to give Milly a kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t let your dad walk into traffic, okay?”

“I won’t,” Milly says, swinging their joined hands between them. “I promise.”

“That’s my girl. Have a good day, baby cakes.”

“You too, daddy cakes.”

“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt says, smiling at the two of them.

“I’ll be here,” Foggy replies, as suggestively as he can manage. It must work because Milly snarls in disgust.

“If you two start kissing again, I’m taking myself to school,” she says, leveraging her full weight against Matt to drag him towards the door. “Or running off to join the circus. You won’t know which until it’s too late.”

“She gets that from you,” Matt says, tiredly.

“I was going to say I think she gets it from you.”

“Maybe she has a point about us being gross.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Foggy says, with a wink at Milly, who’s glaring at both of them now. “There was never any debate about that.”

#I have my block button ready for anyone who comes for me about the pet names or terms of endearment herein #I did my best and all of them read right to me #source: I based them on things I call my various niblings or have heard their parents call them #I’m not as confident that Milly’s dialogue is super realistic for a kid but I hang out with a 9 year old all the time #and most of the dialogue is stuff she might say #So who knows???#anyway I love one (1) dumb little family #HWS30days #30 day challenge #homelywenchsociety #mattfoggy #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #do I need a Milly tag? Is that who I am now?#kid fic #COULD NOT RESIST MAKING IT WEIRD AND SAD RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE THERE SORRY #the gbbo au #gbbo AU #once again no prior knowledge of this universe required!#series: how sweet it is #is it hot? ☑️#is it fresh? ☑️#am I proud to serve it? ☑️#and post

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circlebuttons · 4 months ago

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Rafe on Love Island

- this is a throw away rant because of how obsessed i am w love island us rn. I feel like Rafe would be a mix of leah and rob with a bit of caine for rule breaking.

You get coupled with Rafe in love island on the very first night. When all the guys walked in your eyes were on him immediately, he's taller and broader than everyone else in his sharp grey suit with his white button down being unbuttoned just a tad. The closer he gets you notice that his eyes are already locked on you. His eye contact makes your heart race and the cherry on top is the sly smirk that creeps up on his face when you lean over to the two girls you already befriended in such a short time and quietly inform them that, "Buzzcut is mine." He scoffs out a silent laugh on account of you never look away from him once or block your lips from being able to be read. You're the first person he introduces himself too, holding your hand firmly and probably for a bit too long.

He sits on the couch facing you and during the icebreaker questions you learn that Rafe Cameron is a man who's lived a lot of lives but is now a certified businessman, looking to find his first ever stable relationship. The most important thing you learn is that your feelings of attraction are mutual when he pulls a card that reads "Kiss the islander who you think is a gold digger"

His eyes immediately land you and he clarifies to everyone that he's picking you not because he thinks your a gold digger, but because he'd rather have you be his sugar baby, it's all about perspective at the end of the day.

"You can take all my money" he mumbles before kissing you gently at first with a coy hand on your neck, but you're the one to deepen it and he follows your lead immediately before you break apart, softly saying, "Nice to meet you" while using your finger to wipe the rouge lip combo that you both are now wearing.

There's no doubt in your mind when picking Rafe to couple up with. After the coupling Rafe is on your heels following you like a puppy to an area of couches where you're meant to get to know each other a bit better before sharing a bed. There he asks a lot more questions about yourself, hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth. You eventually leave to go get ready for bed and he reluctantly separates from you, being the first one under the covers laying awake with bright eyes when you climb in on the other side of him. "Courtesy pillow?" he asks looking at you cautiously. "Not unless you need it, I'll behave for the first night" you smirk at him before turning to your side and getting comfortable and little do you know how long he stares at the ceiling replaying every event from today, avoiding reminiscing on the kiss to avoid becoming to worked up, but worked up nonetheless because he feels insane for falling for a girl this fast into the game.

That morning Rafe wakes up with a smile on his face for the first time in ages and he wakes up like that everyday in the villa because no matter what it's always you. He's nothing short of obsessed with you, just as much as you are him, but the two of you being head over heels doesn't make for good tv until Rafe starts playing more defensively. The first male bombshells that get added to the villa get nothing but glares from him as they get way to comfortable with you in the games and attempt to pull you for chats while you're literally right next to him. Production had made it clear that it was off limits to physically fight, so Rafe had to settle for pulling in other guys for secret "chats" instead where he'd just loom over them and make sure it was understood you were happy being coupled with him.

Production would have to step in again to remind rafe that it was also against the rules to hinder filming in anyway meaning saying blunt no's when another girl tries to pull him or turning his head when the objective of a game is to kiss. It unexpectedly makes better tv when Rafe starts his malicious compliance as he sits either blank or stank faced and awkwardly silent in one on one chats with girls who insist on talking with him and in challenges the cameras capture the disgusted tight lipped faces he makes when he's forced to kiss someone else. You feel the same way he does, you're a bit more complacent with production and don't mind participating. It bothers Rafe sure, but at the end of the day it fuels him seeing you kiss another islander and knowing that he's ten times better than any of these guys will ever be. You and Rafe discussed that you have to do what you have to do for tv, but outside of mini games there was to be exclusivity. Exclusive is a word you use a lot, waiting until the outside to be a real couple.

Although what you don't wait for is having sex in the villa after finding out all the guys left for casa amor. Hearing that Rafe was the only guy to refuse not only made you proud, but surprisingly horny too. Making out at night or even grinding on each other wasn't foreign to either one of you, it's when your hand drifts into Rafe's waistband that he shoots up to flip you under him, eager to finally have all of you. After that night the two of you sneak around fucking like absolute bunnies. You protest weakly every time he starts kissing on your neck, knowing what's about to to happen, mumbling "Fuck me, my moms watching" before you the two of you duck under covers and have the best sex of your lives.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafecameronxloveislandreader #obx!loveisland #loveisland!rafe

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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End Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: get ready for the hate.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller.

“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you.

You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed.

“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.”

“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.”

“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.

“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.”

“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says.

“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?”

“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.”

You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester.

“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers.

“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.”

“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...”

“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.”

“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...”

“A con? Oh, wow--”

“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?”

“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.”

“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...”

You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no.

“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly.

The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones.

“Jacob?” You murmur.

“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.”

“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.”

“Yeah, totally,” you agree.

You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track.

“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.”

“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.”

“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.”

“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...”

“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.”

“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.”

You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation.

🎮

You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive.

You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell.

It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was.

“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.

She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed.

You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home.

You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.

You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message.

‘Hey, you home?’

‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’

‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’

‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’

You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊'

Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears.

‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’

You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side.

‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’

You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face.

🎮

You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund.

After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky.

‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order.

You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds.

‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’

‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’

You sigh.

‘Time got ahead of me.’

‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’

‘Sure. Tmrw.’

You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe.

As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful.

🎮

“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.”

“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.”

He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts.

“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks.

“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?”

He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up.

“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.”

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.

“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully.

“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.”

“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.”

“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game.

It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing.

“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.”

“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.”

“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.”

“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead.

Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart.

Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work.

Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #end game #series #defending jacob

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imababblekat · 1 year ago

Text

Pushing Buttons

Anon Request, “ Love your content it’s sooo cute! Can I get a snarky sarcastic reader who calls April for a chat on speaker phone then gets into a funny argument with Ralph trading jabs. Like he tries to get April to hang up because their in the middle of something important but reader gives him a snappy comeback. They keep going with everyone listening. Tired of this April is gonna hang up on them but before that happens “Wait wait! give that guys digits he sounds hot! You know how I love pushing a guys buttons!”

A/N: I hope this is okay, gonna be honest I struggled to write this one for some reason. Hope it’s still at the very least readable \TvT/

~xXx~

April hadn’t meant to answer the phone, but Mikey curiously nudging into her had caused her to ultimately accept your request. As if to make a point at your horrible timing as April and the boys were in the mist of a game plan to take down a new gang, you’re voice rang loud through the speaker causing everyone to simultaneously jump.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!! April you are not going to believe what happened to me at work today!!”

April sighed, giving the ninja turtles apologetic glances.

“I can’t really talk right-”

“I’ll make it quick! I swear! Okay, so I got up at seven like I usually do, right? I was really tired though, so I went to snooze my alarm and-”

Before April could politely ask you to skip ahead to what had happened at your job, the human girl was thrown for a shock when Raphael had suddenly snatched the device straight out of her hand. She went to reprimand him but all he had done was hold a large hand up to block her as he angrily snapped into the call.

“She’s busy. Call back later.”

*click*

April’s eyes had never been as wide as they were in that moment. No way did Raphael just hang up on you of all people. Said terrapin, with a triumphant grin, reached out to hand her back the phone, when it had suddenly started going off again right in his palm. If it weren’t for the growing agitation, he could have sworn it seemed to vibrate with a vengeance. With a hard tap, he answered the call ready to repeat what he had done only a few minutes ago.

“I said-”

“Excuse me!!”

Raphael felt himself fumble at your sudden shout, April standing across from him with a knowing look.

“And who the hell do you think you are, huh?! You do not cut me off when I am talking to my gal pal!!”

Raphael sputtered, caught off for but a second before snapping back.

“Who do I-?! April’s busy! I’m sure whatever little issue you got goin on at work ain’t that important!”

“Oh, and how would you know that?! You read minds huh?! I’d ask if you’re some sort of phycologist but frankly just from your voice alone I’d say you’re need of one.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“I think you know what I mean, big boy.”

Raphael felt his blood boiling in that moment, his brothers Mikey and Donnie doing their best to stifle their laughter behind him while Leo simply smirked at his dismay. All the while all April could do was hide her face in her hands at the embarrassment she felt for her close friend on the line.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? Would you rather I call you big baby instead? Ya gonna cry about it? Good, cuz sounds to me like you need to shed a few tears. It’s perfectly healthy by the way. Just thought I’d let you know that since you give off the vibe that you’d rather walk around with a stick up your ass then express your emotions.”

“A stick up my ass?! Seriously?! How about I come over and shove one up yours?! You’re just all bark and no bite!”

“Ooo, don’t promise me with a good time~.”

If it were possible, Raph’s face would match the color of his mask at your raunchy response, the suave to your tone not making things any better. It was at the sudden burst of laughter behind him from his brothers and Aprils own snickering that the brute decided in that moment the best course of action was to, once again, hang up the damn phone.

A groan bubbled up from his throat at he tossed April back her phone, sending a glare to his still cackling siblings.

“Will ya all stop laughin. Let’s just get back to the stupid plan.”, he glared, arms crossing.

It was Leo, who had to take a few breaths to gather himself, that brought back the others to focus.

“Okay, okay, you heard the big boy. Let’s ready up.”

Green eyes glared daggers at the leader in blue for his jab, the other winking back with a shit eating grin. Raphael stepped forward to make a quip in response to Leo, when a chortle behind him had alerted all the turtles. It was from April, who’s eyes crinkled in the corners as she did her best to bite back some giggles, holding up her phone to show what had caused such a reaction out of her. Each brother leaned in, squinting at the small text on screen and then let out more laughter, Mikey rocking a groaning Raph’s shoulders with congratulations.

On the screen before them, read a text sent by the very person who riled him up quicker then anyone on record.

*Hey girly, you gotta get me your friends digits! Dude sounds hot af 😉💗*

~xXx~

#bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #aged up tmnt #anon request #imababblekat's writing

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b3ach-bunn7 · 3 months ago

Text

CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST

Texts with your best friend Touya (who’s a little bit in love with you)

no quirk au <3

—————————————————————————-

January 9th

8:47 pm

You: OH TOUYAAAAA

You: it’s nearly ur bd 😁 what shall I get u

Touya: Nothing

Touya: Just Ur love 😍

You: ew

You: shall I get u some new earrings

You: OH I COULD PAY FOR ANOTHER PIERCING

Touya: Literally where

Touya: I think I’ve pierced every available location on my face

Touya: Unless… You meant somewhere else 😳

You: EWWWWWWWW

You: UR SUCH A FREAK

Touya: I meant my belly button?

You: stfu

Touya: Get your head out the gutter

You: shut up pooya

Touya: Wow you really got me there!

You: HUSH

January 12th

8:39 am

You: bruh where r u

You: homeroom started like ten minutes ago

Touya: I just woke up

Touya: Leaving onw buy shoti is lissing me kff

You: okay English!!!

Touya: Kys

You: but you can type that right…

January 12th

1:40 pm

You: Touyaaaaaa

You: can we go get food

You: the canteen stuff is rubbish today

You: plz I’m so sos is so hungry I’m dying

Touya: Fatty

You: HEY

You: SO MEAN

Touya: I’m only joking sweetcheeks

You: gross

Touya: You love it

Touya: Shiggy wants to come 2

Touya: Is that Ok

You: sigh fine I guess

Touya: Shall I tell him he’ll be third wheeling if he does 😳

You: yes 🥰🥰🥰😍 he just can’t interrupt our time together my sweet

Touya: Ew

You: you love it

January 13th

7:40 pm

You: GST ON MINECRAFTTT

Touya: I’m doing homework

You: I’m doing your mum OHHH

Touya: Woah

Touya: Telling her u said that

You: PLZ IM JOKING

You: I’ll tell her ur telling porky pies

You: Rei would trust my word over urs anyways 😈

Touya: Lowkey she would

Touya: My own mother 😢

You: I’m just better ig

You: how long r u gonna be

Touya: Give me like fifteen mins

You: BOO

Touya: Bro Aizawa is up my ass rn

Touya: If I hand one more piece of work in late he’s gonna acc kill me

You: idk why u hate him so much

You: i love him

You: and he has that sexy teacher look🤤 those luscious locks

Touya: R u sure u can get off his dick long enough for us to play

You: HAHAHAH

You: STFU

You: ur just jealous

Touya: So very

Touya: Why aren’t u hyping ME up like that

You: cause u smell?

Touya: I’m not playing

You: IM JOKING

You: U smell so good and yummy

You: like cigarette smoke 😍

Touya: 🙄

You: sassy 💁‍♀️

Touya: Stop distracting me so I can work

You: okay smelly

January 15th

2:30 pm

Touya: Y/N

Touya: Y/n

Touya: Y/NNNN

Touya: Queen

Touya: Sweetheart

Touya: Angel

You: if you throw one more piece of paper at my head I’m blocking u

Touya: You won’t check ur phone

Touya: How else can I get ur attention from across the room

You: WE R I. CLASS

Touya: So?

You: think I figured out why Aizawa doesn’t rate u

You: pay attention

Touya: But I miss u

Touya: And I’m bored

You: U LITERALLY SAW ME LIKE HALF AN HOUR AGO

You: AT LINCH

Touya: Ur point?

You: omfg

Touya: So what’s up

You: I’m gonna kill you

January 17th

6:50 pm

Fuyumi: Hi Y/N

You: hey fuyumi!!

You: everything okay?

Fuyumi: Yeah, it’s great!!

Fuyumi: Just wanted to tell u that everyone needs to be at ours for Touya’s party at 5:00

Fuyumi: We’ll tell him to come home at like six so that gives us some time to get everything ready

You: beautiful

You: do u think he has any idea were throwing him a party 🤭🤭

Fuyumi: I don’t think so 😆 we have been very careful

Fuyumi: Even shoto has kept his mouth shut

You: yeah I had to threaten twice a couple times before he promised to not tell

You: IM EXCITED

Fuyumi: Me too!!!

Fuyumi: Can’t wait to see u 😊

You: I can’t wait either!!!

Fuyumi: I hope he’ll like it

Fuyumi: We’re getting mum to drive all across town to get him that cake he loves

Fuyumi: I really want him to have fun

You: don’t worry babe he will have fun

You: and if he doesn’t I’ll force him to 😈

January 17th

7:00pm

Touya: U guys r throwing me a surprise party right

You: what?

Touya: For my bd

Touya: Fuyumi is being all suspicious

Touya: Told me I have to leave the house tomorrow but also come back at six oclock??

Touya: And the little brat keeps giggling at me

You: uhm don’t call little shoto that

Touya: Ur deflecting

Touya: They r throwing a party aren’t they

You: they aren’t

You: idk why you think that

Touya: Y/N

You: WHY DO U HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING

Touya: Lol

You: please please don’t tell them you know

You: they’re so excited for do this for you

You: [screenshot attachment]

You: look what Fuyumi said to me

Touya: Oh

You: please don’t spoil 😔

Touya: Don’t worry your pretty little head

Touya: I won’t

You: YAY

You: LOVE U

Touya: Ly2

January 18th

12:00am

You: [audio messsage]

You: enjoy me whisper singing happy bd to u

You: HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYYY WOOOOO

You: LOVE U THE MOST

You: okay I need to sleep we have school tomorrow

January 18th

3:07am

Touya: Thank you y/n

Touya: Ly the most too

January 18th

6:15 pm

You: Touya where tf r u

Touya: I’m On my way!

You: we’ll be On your way! FASTER

Touya: STFU

You: U STFU

Touya: U TOLD ME TO MAKE THIS BELIEVEBE

Touya: MY FAMILY WOULD NOT BELEIWV I GOT THERE ON TIME

You: wait ur right lowkey

Touya: exactly

You: well walk faster

Touya: I’m not walking

Touya: I’m driving

You: HOW TF R U TEXTING ME

Touya: Imd riving one handed?

You: GET TF OFF UR PHONE 😭

January 19th

12:04 am

Touya: Y/N

Touya: Thank u for gifts

Touya: The strap for my bass

Touya: And the necklace

Touya: I lowbe them

Touya: and the aprty was so fun

Touya: I lovwd it

Touya: and I lobe you

You: that’s okay 😁

You: are u drunk rn🤔

Touya: Snuch out with bawks

Touya: Hrwks

Touya: Hawks

Touya: Raided fathers liquoye supply

You: you went to your dad’s house????

Touya: NO

Touya: never

Touya: stolen from when he was gere

Touya: fukcing loser 😂😂

You: where r u guys?

Touya: hawks house

Touya: his oarents arent home

Touya: u wanbawcome over

Touya: I’ll kuck him out

You: u can’t kick hawks out of his own house 😭

You: why do u even need to kick him out we’re friends

Touya: he flirst with y so much

Touya: flirts

Touya: pisses me off

You: awwwww r u jelly 🥺

Touya: yes

You: LOL

You: yeah maybe lay off the the drinks buddy

Touya: I live u

Touya: love

Touya: I loved the gifts u got me rhwnks

You: you already said babe

Touya: sorry baby Im so drunk

You: okay I’m going to go before you say something you’ll regret in the morning

You: goodnight birthday boy

January 19th

1:05 pm

Touya: Please erase last night from ur memory

You: last night was a movie 😍

Touya: Yeah a fucking horror

You: HAHAHA

Touya: My head is killing me

You: painkillers?

Touya: Idk where they r and Hawks is sleeping

You: did u guys just wake up 😭

Touya: I think I slept like at like five am

Touya: It’s nice smoking inside a house and not in some alleyway so mum doesn’t catch me

You: BOO

You: ur lungs hate u

Touya: I hate them back

Touya: It’s why I smoke

You: LOL SHUT UP

Touya: Fuck my HEAD

You: that’s what he said

Touya: Ew man

You: you love it

You: go drink some h2o

Touya: Enough chemistry in too tired

You: sigh fine

You: go get some WATER 💦

Touya: Fine

You: bye baby 🤪

Touya: I’ll kill you

You: but I thought you love me??

Touya: Ur dead to me

You: HAHHA

January 21st

7:06 pm

You: Touya

You: can I come over plz

Touya: Erm what 😳😳😳

You: seriously

You: can I

Touya: Yh ofc

Touya: You okay?

You: yh

You: well no actually

You: my dads being my dad again

You: I just can’t be in this house rn

You: I need to get away from him

Touya: Yeah u can anytime

Touya: Yk my family loves u

You: thanks

Touya: You want me to pick u up?

You: nah I wanna walk

You: thanks again

You: love u

Touya: Ly2

January 29th

5:28 pm

You: [image attachment]

You: BRUH HOW DID I LOSEEEE

You: I ATE SK BAD

Touya: Bruh get off dress to impress 😭

Touya: U r beefing ten year olds rn

You: idgaf

You: ten year olds who can’t fucking dress

You: I actually hate this game

You: that is NOT STEAM PUNK WHAT THE FUCK

Touya: Maybe get good

You: maybe kys???????

Touya: Words hurt 😔

You: man up?

Touya: Woah

Touya: Okay just perpetuate gender norms..

You: define perpetuate?

You: YH that’s what i thought

February 6th

7:06 pm

You: bro

You: all my friends have valentines apart from ME

Touya: Get good?

You: okay and where’s urs?

Touya: texting her rn 😍

You: omg 😳

You: but on a real I feel horrifically left out

You: Toga keeps flaunting it in my face

Touya: That little freak got one?

Touya: Who

You: yk that girl in 1-A with the chubby cheeks

You: they r so cute omg

You: how come toga has a lesbian lover and I’m jobless and hoeless 😔

Touya: I can help with one of those things

You: u hiring???

Touya: I’ll be ur valentine

You: I can’t tell if ur joking

Touya: I’m not

You: do u have one romantic bone in ur body

Touya: I can think of one 😳

You: LMAO EW

Touya: Nah fr I’ll be ur valentine

You: okay…

You: ask me properly tho

Touya: Okay

Touya: Hey Y/N

You: oh hi Touya! What’s up

Touya: Will u do me the great honour of being my valentine?

You: 😊 yes!

Touya: Thank you 😊😍

February 10th

2:02 pm

Touya: Omg

Touya: Y/N guess what

You: don’t text me in class lil bro

Touya: Someone asked me to be their valentine 🤪

You: what

You: Who

You: is she in our homeroom

You: did u tell her ur mine

Touya: Woahh

Touya: Jealous much

You: no I just don’t want to be a side piece 😔

Touya: No Dw I told her I’m urs 🥺

You: shush

You: yk what I meant

You: who was it tho

Touya: Idk some girl in my maths class

Touya: She seemed pretty sad when I said no

Touya: The ladies love me

You: she’ll get over it!

Touya: LOL

February 14th

8:03 am

You: OMG

You: ARE THESE FLOWERS MINE

Touya: No I got them for ur dad actually

You: TOUYAAA

You: THEYRE MY FAVS

You: THANM U SM

Touya: Anytime Valentine

February 14th

1:20 pm

Touya: Meet at my car

Touya: I’m taking u out for lunch

You: thank gosh

You: they’re selling some mystery meatloaf type deal and I’m no happy

You: hawksy wants to come too

Touya: No

Touya: Just u

You: girl he’s not gonna do anything

Touya: No this is like

Touya: Hold on

You: okay hawks is looking at his phone and typing

You: r u texting him

You: okay he magically doesn’t wanna come along anymore

Touya: Aw :((

Touya: I’m waiting outside

You: see u in a bit smelly

February 14th

1:50 pm

You: ur such a child

You: IM RIGHT IN FRONT OD U JUST TALK TO ME

Touya: NO

You: WHY

Touya: IK SCARED

You: I can see u smiling

Touya: Shut up

Touya: Okay listen

Touya: If u don’t like what I’m about to say we r going to act like this never happened okay

Touya: I will delete the message out of existence and thus out of ur mind

You: okay…

Touya: Okay so I kind of like actually asked u to be my Valentine not just because ur lonely

Touya: And I like really like you

Touya: As in like like

Touya: But I don’t wanna ruin our friendship because ur the best friend I’ve ever had and will ever have

Touya: So if u don’t feel the same we can just pretend this never happened

February 14th

8:00 pm

You: I’m home safe xxx

Touya: Don’t care

You: okay mr message me when ur back

You: okay mr parked in my driveway to make sure I got in okay???

Touya: Shut up

You: wait hold on

You: is that why uninvited hawks

You: so that u could ask me out

Touya: Yeah and the sky is also blue

You: SHUT UL

Touya: He’s so stupid yk

Touya: It was his idea ??

Touya: And he forgot

You: hey three’s a party!

Touya: So you would’ve kissed me as aggressively as you did if Hawks was there?

You: wait ur right..

You: Oh well

You: it was about time anyways

You: took u like three years and u did it over DMS

Touya: I’m shy 🥺

You: EW TF

You: I take the kiss back

Touya: These hickeys tell me a different story

You: HSUTUP

Touya: You love it

You: I love YOU 🫵

Touya: Yeah

Touya: Love you too

—————————————————————————

This was NOT supposed to end with a confession but I physically cannot help myself 😅 I love these text posts they’re so fun!!

Hope u all enjoyed <3

#oneshot #fluff #dabi/reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha touya #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #touya todoroki #touya x reader #dabi x you #fuyumi todoroki

170 notes · View notes

loupy-mongoose · 5 months ago

Text

Well....

I seem to have found my new fixation.

But it's not Pokemon.

It's something else entirely.

Back in 2022, I had a similar bout of art/writer's block. I found a random plot generator and started getting stuff...

I eventually ended up with this;

I was hooked.

(That's old art from '22 btw)

First off, I have to say that while the story itself covers very heavy and dark topics, this post here doesn't have anything like that. So here you're safe, and I will of course apply all the necessary warnings and tags going forward! ^^

I fixated hard on that story, writing up a loose outline of basically all of it. And thankfully, I wrote most of my best ideas down, because, as tends to happen, the fixation faded after a while.

I came so close to starting it on DA back then--A prologue comic ready and everything. But I fell just shy of the courage I needed to actually publish it.

Well, now I've fallen in love with it all over again... with a new life.

I've taken the wolves' story, and merged them. :>

The characters are gonna be my plush wolf fellows/werewolves. This does mean their wolfiness will probably fall second banana to everything else going on, but... I want it to be, darn it. I'm having way too much fun with the idea! XD

Anyway, I have concept arts!

Here we have Timber (gray haired man), one of the wolves I mentioned here and the druid in this story, and Eirwen (white wolf/young girl), who is the Necromancer. :>

And the staff... One of my personal favorite new additions...

It's a creature called a Staffwyrm.

Instead of magical staves, mages in this world get magical creatures. :3

Staffwyrms are a breed of dragon specially bred to assist mages in channeling their magic. A mage acquires an egg and incubates it; meanwhile, the hatchling reads the magical signature of its soon-to-be master, morphing to appear like a branch from a symbolically relevant tree. However that symbolism applies is up to the powers that be. :)

Staffwyrms are highly attuned to the wishes of their master, and can instinctively stiffen to meet their needs. A hook to climb or grab something? Of course! A sturdy step to reach something or see higher? Might take some figuring out, but they got you! A backscratcher? Sure, why not!

A loyal pet and companion? Absolutely. <3

@puzzled-zebra commented that it had a boop button, so I had to. X3

Anyway, I've been having a lot of fun cooking up this story again. As sad as I am to apparently be taking a true break from Pokemon stuff, I'm very proud of this story and happy to have something to muse about. ^^

#art #MOLD #Hehehe~ :3 #MOLD art

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jjknanamin · 4 months ago

Text

Name & Character: OVULATING ON VACATION // NANAMI KENTO FUNFICTION (Part 1 & 2)

For Part 3 & 4, click

Summary: You are both on vacation, and you are horny. Nanami is the perfect boyfriend, helps you.

Wc: Around 2.0k

Cw: fem!reader x kento nanami, established relationship, suggestive alert!, smut alert!, unprotected (reader on birth control tho), nudity, blow!job (m! receiving), fingering (m! & f! receiving), ovulation, nsfw (you are warned), MDNI (minors do not interact)

A/n: I am not native. Please inform any gramer mistakes. Minors will be blocked. This one is my first story, so I am so excited!

For Part 3 & 4, click this link

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

PART 1

You were ovulating. It was approximately the same week as the month before when you went crazy for sex on your vacation without your lover. You had to look at his cute to sexy photos to satisfy yourself desperately with masturbation, but this month was different. You were already in the embrace of your partner for five years, Nanami Kento. You woke up almost suddenly with a small whine really early in the morning with such sexual desire affected by your dream. You sure were ovulating.

Even though you reached your climax just before sleep, since you had dreams that you had confidence larger than usual, that you mentioned of your boyfriend, loved him, and about to fuck him, yet you woke up. The clock on the wall was showing 5.49, very early in the morning, you usually cannot afford waking up. Your back was pressed against your lover's chest, cuddling you from behind in your bed, while you were cuddling one of his arms, the one embraced you over your shoulder, and an extra pillow. He was sleeping lightly in peace.

He was already used to getting up for your intimacy needs in the harsh week of the month, and he sure was aware of your cycle, and you knew that he wouldn't be bothered if you approached him for this.

Unconsciously you whined a little louder while stretching your body a little bit. This triggered his body as he cuddled you harder, came closer, and put a kiss on your crock of neck, took a deep breath of your scent. His right hand caressed through your body, and when landed on your bare leg, he tried to rearrange the sheets that were tangled in your legs, to cover your slightly cold skin.

It was the beginning of August, yet from time to time, you were blessed with summer rains, and the weather could be chilly in the morning. The very reason why you wore socks while sleeping. You were on vacation in a good beach territory, staying with your family in an amazing beach resort, that every couple had their own room and bath. And your windows were wide upon, welcoming the summer ambience.

After covering you successfully, he kissed you on the forehead, ready to continue sleeping. Yet, your motion was different. You turned on your other side, and hugged him in the neck, whining through his bare chest, putting a few kisses around his nipples. You were rewarded by him with a small whine in return.

"Kento-," you murmured to his neck. You put your chin on his chest and look at him with small eyes half lidded. "I want you. I want your penis in my mouth." You stroked his chin with one of your thumbs. You could feel his stubble, and this turned you even more. You were already getting wet between your legs.

He chuckled after a deep breath. He cleared his throat with a few attempts and said, "Is that so, my love?" without opening his eyes and looking at you.

You nodded in his chest. He encouraged you by lifting one of his legs from its lying position and spared you some space between his legs. You stood on your hands, sliding down through his body while giving small pecks through his torso, starting on his cheek. You finally reached his V-line, that you paid more attention to with your lips, giving deep kisses, some bites, and licks. Your lips moved to his belly button while your hands were occupied with lowering his boxer. You let him help you with that. You withdrew on your heels, he flipped his right leg over your head, lowered his boxer through his hips. You stopped him there, and took control again. While kissing his balls, now appeared just under his hips, and between his legs, you moved his boxer, and put it on the bed. You flipped his leg back over your head again, and repositioned yourself between his legs.

He had a small morning erection already, favored with your touches. You gripped him with your hand, stroked a few times up and down. He was getting harder and more voluminous to his original form. You bent over, and finally put his tip in your mouth. He released a pleasure complaint from his lips, and placed his hand on your head. You suck his tip as it was gonna give you the watery liquid so that you could live furthermore. You moved your head down on his cock, made him wet with your saliva. You took him out of your mouth, while one hand squeezing and hand-jobbing his upper area, you buried your face to his testicles. You sucked his skin above them, licked passionately. You slided your tongue from the base of his balls up to his slit, he was now leaking pre-cum, took him again in your mouth.

You were not deep throating, since you were not found of choking casually, or you didn't see your throat as a place to be fucked, and since he did not come up with such request before. His eyes were still closed, yet considering his mid to heavy breaths, he was enjoying your care on his cock, and you thought maybe he needs more of it. So you took a mental note to bring this topic up later. If he has any interest, you could reconsider trying it. However, now it was your week that your sex hormone was at its top.

His hands were on your shoulder, trying to reach down on you, to your armpit. You moved him out of your month, kissed his pubic bone which had yellow to brown hair placed on till his belly button. You continuously approached his face, meanwhile giving kisses on his torso again. You buried your face to his neck, gave enough kisses, licks, and bites every corner left and right before reaching his chin. His trimmed beard hurt and tickled your face a little. Your lips grabbed his lips, he let a moan out to escape as you kissed him harshly. He was snatching some of his hair with one hand, while the other was welcoming your arrival and gripped your cheek as you kissed him.

His hands moved to strip you. He moved your pink tank top above your head, leaving your lips for a second, letting your torso be naked. He then moved to your panties. You took the command, stood on your knees while lowering it. He finally glanced at the view with sleepy eyes, satisfied. You let your panties fall on the bed, moved to his lips back.

His hands now were sliding from your shoulders to waist, to hips, to inner thighs, and finally to your pussy. He touched your entrance with a few fingertips, collected juices, spread all over your vulva. He gave you a little smack on the hip, to a mid-degree that you most like, he stroked that hip, and gripped it playfully. Other hand kept drawing circles on your wet minor labia and entrance.

You were letting moans out of you as you kissed him on the lips. Your long hair flowed down your head to hide your joined faces, tickling his cheeks. He chuckled and bite your lower lip. "Mmm-," he muttered.

He let his ring finger, that has a ring on it, go inside of your pussy, draw circles inside as well. His middle finger followed the lead and filled you. He was stroking your walls with his fingers, readying you what you actually wanted. Should he keep fucking you like that? Yet, he sensed you did not have that much patience.

Kento cut the kiss, and repositioned you with his strong arms as your tits will be above his face. You grabbed the headboard so as not to squish his face. He kept his touches in your pussy while the other hand previously in your hip was now grabbing one boob at a time and leading her in his mouth. He was nibbling your nipples playfully. You were making quiet sex noises as he worked on you in two ends.

Your cunt was dripping enough, almost ready to go to the orgasm phase. He thought she must be ready, so he abruptly grabbed your waist with his big hands and positioned your hip on his. His one hand directed his cock to your entrance, and let you sink him in.

Finally reaching your goal, you couldn't stay open eyed and without honest reactions. "Ah, ah,-"s were escaping from your mouth while your cunt started clenching around and sucking him. Having his cock inside that sudden was not usual. Your cunt is familiar with his girth, yet instant movement caught you unexpectedly, with a new experience of a better pleasure. You fell deep on his torso. He let you adjust to his presence in your cunt, as he moved your socks from your feet, knowing that you hate wearing socks during sex, and that you would be warm enough with the intimacy. Now both of you were completely naked.

He massaged your bare feet and heels. "How is that, baby girl, talk to me." Then stroked your back, brushing your long hair with his long fingers, hugged your shoulders. "Ready to move?" he asked gently.

-------

PART 2

"Yes, Kento, please." you said, tried to stand on your palms, eventually on your knees pressed on the bed from two sides of his hips.

He held your waist, and assisted you to move your hips for little circles around his cock. His cock inside of your cunt was touching every corner and surface of your walls, making you feel so good. Then, he stopped holding you, giving you full control, instead dealing with your tits, watching their slight movement depending on you, giving them small touches.

You improved your circles to bigger ones, then bent over your back, placed your hands to his thighs, and started to bounce on your hips. His tip was directly hitting your front wall every time you took him in, and stimulated your G-spot beautifully.

He was watching you, his beautiful girlfriend, taking what she needed. His fingertips were on your toes, caressing wherever he could reach. He placed his palm on your tummy, long fingers touching your belly button, started rubbing your clit with his thumb. "That is it baby, go get what you need." he said calmly.

"Yess, Kento..." His adoration of you made you even more turned on, yet you were getting tired from your legs. Closer to your orgasm, the sloppier your legs became.

"Getting tired?" he asked while you were trying to move up and down on him.

"Mm..." you couldn't talk. Your movements faded away as you stood yourself, and moved your hips forward and backward on his cock.

"Let me help you, my love." He bent you closer to him, kissed your forehead. He supported himself on the bed, and started to thrust into you in a regular pace. This time you were playing with his nipples.

"Himm..." a whimper goes from him.

His pace accelerated slowly, eventually rocking on your cervix.

"Ah, ah, ah-" you were screaming. He started to rub your clit intensely again resulting in you finally hit your climax.

"Take it, love, you did a great job." He kept trusting in you throughout your relief, slowed down gradually as your relaxation took you over. "A little quieter baby, let's not wake anyone." And when he finally stopped thrusting, he circled in you as you stood on his hip, giving you extra simulation.

You were breathing heavily, as he gave you last individual sharp thrusts. He finally settled on bed, took you from his dick to his lab, got you closer to himself, hugged your waist. Your hair stuck to your sweaty neck, where he pulled you so that he could give you a kiss there.

"How was it? Did my girl enjoy?" he asked while freeing your hair from your back, exhaling your neck to cool you down.

You chuckled and nodded. Your foot was rubbing his still hard dick as you tried to seduce him more with your teeth working on his ear after your small break. "I need more." you stated.

"More?" he asked, pretending as if it was unexpected. He knew you were not done yet. If he was any suspicious at all, he would finish himself with you. No, there were other paths to go that morning.

------

A/n: I wonder your thoughts, let me know in the comments, please! Part 3 & 4 will come friday or saturday, Satoru will be included as mutual friend. I might edit the errors from time to time.

Part 3 & 4 are out now, click this link! 💃

#nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami smut #jujutsukaisen #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami #halfpasteight

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emmasbrain · 7 months ago

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Miscommunication (the fun kind) Part 2

This is part 2, trust when I say it makes very little sense without part 1.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Synopsis: You meet him for your date, but it’s cut a little short.

Warnings: None I can think of other than cringe writing.

A/N: This took ages man, I don’t know what happened but I just felt a block so many apologies for taking so long.

As you click the little green button, you feel unnecessarily nervous. “Hello.”

“Hi.” He replies, and the smile that graces your lips can be heard from the other end of the phone.

“Doc. I’m glad you called.” You try to play it cool, but you know he can sense your excitement anyway.

“I’m glad you asked me to. Look, I’m on my way to a case right now, but I was thinking that when I get back we could do something? Go for dinner, maybe?” He sounds as nervous as you feel, and your heart spikes a little.

“Dinner sounds great. Have you thought of a place?” You do a little spin in the living room of your small apartment and you hear chatter in the background of the call.

“There’s this little restaurant that I normally get takeout from. I know them pretty well so they’ll keep me a table on short notice. They’ve got everything so statistically there’s bound to be something you like.” The way he speaks reaches a spot in your brain, fast and passionate, even about the most mundane things.

“I know I’m gonna like it because you do, and I trust your taste.” You bite your lip, wondering if that was too much.

“You should, I’m very particular.” His voice betrays the fact that he’s grinning, and you match his expression.

“I like particular. Particular is good.” Your voice has dropped a little subconsciously, and he’s about to reply when you hear the familiar voice of Agent Hotchner alerting Spencer that they need him.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you when I’m home?” You almost sigh in contentment at just the sound of him, but you snap out of it quickly to reply.

“I’ll be waiting patiently, Doc. I’ll see you.” You hang up, and stand in the middle of your living room for what seems like an hour but truly is only a few minutes. Why are you so attracted to this guy you only met a few nights ago?

But you feel as though you know him, from the way Penelope has talked about him, from the time you spent together. You feel as though you know them all.

—

You just sent in the final draft of your latest article. This one had been an absolute nightmare, being asked to write a piece on climate change. Your editors loved you for your fresh takes, but after so long there was no angle on climate change that hadn’t already been written. They seem fairly happy with it, but you can’t help the nagging feeling of wishing you could have done the proposed piece on how tourism is ruining the economy like you had wanted.

Through the annoyance of knowing you could have done better, you still feel slightly more at ease knowing the article is finished and out of your hands, and that you can relax and drink your fourth mug of coffee for the day. It’s eleven am.

But as you stand to stretch your achy muscles and make some fresh coffee, your phone rings. You know who it is before you even pick up, but make sure to check anyway just in case.

‘Spencer’ flashes on your screen, and you immediately sit down on your sofa, hitting the answer button and taking a readying breath.

“Hey Doc.” Your voice is unintentionally airy, but he doesn’t seem to notice - or he pretends not to - as he replies.

“Hey. I got back from work late last night, but I didn’t wanna call in case you were asleep. I was just wondering what you had planned for tonight?” The grogginess in his voice is evident, and it raises a question before you can even think about answering his.

“Spencer, how long ago did you wake up?” The simple question makes him go quiet for a moment before he speaks.

“I woke up just before I called you.” He sounds nervous to admit it, like he’s embarrassed to be caught thinking of you so soon into his day.

“Must have been thinking about me in your sleep then. And to answer your question, I’m free tonight.” You can’t hide the tinge of satisfaction knowing he thought about you maybe as often as you thought about him.

The small breath he sucks in doesn’t pass by you. You may not be a behavioural analyst but you are a damn good journalist, and you know what that little breath means. It says “you caught me”. Was he really thinking of you in his slumber? You note it down in the back of your head to try and slip out of him later.

“Would you like to go for dinner to that restaurant tonight?” He seems to have composed himself as he asks his question, and you try not to sound too enthusiastic as you eagerly say yes. “Okay, great- that’s great! I’ll pick you up at six… I don’t drive.” The defeat in his voice makes you laugh.

“How about I pick you up?” You suggest, calming his nerves. “You can tell me where to go.” Truthfully, you had already planned to drive him. Penelope told you once how he doesn’t drive, and you called her two days ago to reconfirm. This information, however, is not something you feel the need to tell him, because it seems a little obsessive - but you were just thinking logically of course - and you don’t want to weird him out quite so early.

He seems to be okay with the idea, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t take it as a blow to his ego like most men would. The call ends after a few short pleasantries - that are actually pleasant - and you immediately get to work.

You throw open the doors of your wardrobe and go straight to the dresses, very slowly narrowing it down to two options. A flowy red dress that you almost go with, and a simple black silk dress that ends just below your knees.

This one is for special occasions, and you deemed this a pretty special occasion. As you rummage through your box of shoes and stack of earrings trying desperately to find earrings and heels in the same colour, you come across a pair of purple strapped heels that you know you have drop earrings in a similar shade to. You just can’t find them.

Suddenly you notice that it’s 12:30 and your brain short circuits. Your entire room is thrown upside down and inside out until you find the earrings you’re looking for, and then neatly arranged back to its original state, all within thirty minutes. Now you have your little purple dewdrops and your outfit is complete, but you have four and a half hours until you need to leave and you know you’ll need it, albeit mostly to panic.

Four hours passes and you’ve showered, shaved, styled your hair and put on some light makeup. Your nail polish is just dry and you have your dress on, so you buckle your heels and stand. Twenty five minutes before you can leave. That’s not bad. You just have to wait twenty five minutes… But what if traffic is bad? You should probably leave fifteen minutes early for that, right? And if you think about it, the time between leaving your house and getting to the car wasn’t considered in the time it would take you to get there, and if you drag it out that’s a good five minutes. So really you only need to leave in five minutes. But what’s the point of waiting five minutes really? You should just leave now. Good idea.

As you park at his apartment building you realise you may have been a little over eager. The drive was ten minutes shorter than expected, so you’re around thirty minutes early. Which is embarrassing, so to speak. But you decide to head up early, a gut feeling telling you that it’ll be beneficial.

As you knock, he immediately opens the door and then a sheepish look comes over his face. “I saw you get out of your car.” He nervously rubs his hand on the back of his neck and it makes you smile. Then you take in his attire. He looks similar to when you met him in the bar, although he’s wearing white converse to match a white shirt underneath his brown suit. He’s also sporting a watch, and - most importantly - glasses. Damn those fucking glasses.

You realise you haven’t responded and are now intensely looking at his eyes, and he looks a little uncomfortable.

“Shit- sorry. I was just looking at you- I mean you look good- Great! You look great. You look… pretty. I like your glasses, do you wear them often?” Although you can feel yourself rambling into oblivion, you somehow can’t stop the flood of words that come out of your mouth.

His mouth opens for a moment as though he might speak, and then it shuts again. He stands aside to let you come in. “I never let you in.” He comments, sounding apologetic.

You shake your head in reassurance. “That’s alright, I wasn’t sure if you would even be ready since I’m so early. I never meant to be, I just kind of over thought it and now I’m here.” You wring your fingers together. Spencer noticed that you do it as a nervous habit when you met in the bar.

“I was ready an hour ago, I’ve just been reading while I waited for you. You can sit.” He motions to his sofa, and you sit next to the armrest so that you can turn and lean your back against it to face him sitting a little away from you. “You look beautiful. You remind me of a painting called ‘Madame X’, you probably know it. You could almost be a modernised retelling. Did you know that the painting caused an extreme public discourse as people thought the artist, John Singer Sargent, made the woman look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed.” He says all this with a little grin, and you can’t help but grin along with him.

The decision to tease him comes before you can truly think about it. “You think I look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed, Doc?” As the words come out of your mouth, he pales slightly.

“No, of course not! You remind me more of the principle. The woman was so beautiful she was renowned for her looks. Painters had all but begged her to do a portrait before, but she declined until she found Sargent. But even then, the people of Paris thought the painting didn’t do her beauty justice. Despite this, the painting became famous and beloved for hundreds of years around the world, and to this day is still considered a work of true historical art. A timeless beauty. That’s how I think you look.” His passion for little things shines through again, and your mouth is left slightly agape from his words.

“That was…” You can’t even think.

“A lot, I know. I tend to ramble a lot. I don’t really notice that I’m bothering people until it’s too late.” He rubs the back of his neck again, and the thought of people being bothered by him sends multiple emotions running down your spine.

You reach over and grab his hand with one of yours, the other going to touch his face. “I was going to say, that was awfully considerate of you. Never assume that you’re bothering me. Talk quite literally as much as you please, I want to know what you want to say… If we weren’t on our first date I’d readily teach you exactly how much I enjoy when you talk, but that can be saved for another time, maybe.” Your voice drops nearer the end, and he picks up on it as he sucks in a breath and nods vigorously.

“Definitely- I mean yes, sure. I will keep that in mind.” He’s still nodding as you smile at him, a proper smile.

“You’re pretty when you get flustered. You get all red, from the tops of your cheeks all the way down your neck.” You silently wonder if it goes further. You wish you could check. The hand on his face trails down his neck as you speak, emphasising what you mean.

He gets redder. How can he get redder? “Pretty. You’ve used that word on me twice now.” The comment seems to be more of an observation than a question, but you answer it as though it is one.

“I think you’re pretty. Handsome is a word I dislike. It reminds me of Ken, like Barbie and Ken. You’re not a doll, you’re a man, who just so happens to be pretty. I could call you beautiful instead, I’d say that adjective very accurately describes you too. Gorgeous, if that’s something you prefer.” You relent as the redness gets impossibly worse, and it makes you feel a little guilty. “Sorry, Doc, I just like seeing you flustered. I’ll call you handsome or something more masculine if you’re more comfortable with that.” You give him a little smile and pull your hand from his face.

He wouldn’t say it out loud but he wishes you would keep it there. He grasps your other hand tightly in his, and he shakes his head. “I don’t mind. You can call me whatever you feel like… You’re wearing purple. Purple is my favourite colour.” He looks away for a moment, and it warms your heart.

“Purple suits you, as a favourite colour I mean. Mine is green.” Your voice holds a gentleness in it that comes with caring for someone. It’s baffling. You’ve known him days. A week at most. You shouldn’t feel so… warm around him.

“Green makes sense. I think purple looks best on you though, which is definitely coming from a place of bias.” This makes you laugh, small and breathy, but he smiles at the sound.

You don’t realise how much time has passed until you hear a buzzing noise, and you both realise it’s a phone ringing. It’s coming from the other room so you assume it’s Spencer’s and he quickly gets up to answer. You can’t hear much from the wall between you, but when he comes back through looking thoroughly disappointed, you can tell it’s a work call. “Serial killers don’t stop for first dates sadly.” You remark, and he looks a little surprised.

“How did you know?” He questions, coming closer to you and you stand up to face him.

“I may not be a behavioural analyst, but I can tell what that face means. It means ‘I’m so sorry but I have to go stop murders’.” You smile to try and reassure him, but you can see the cogs whirring in his brain.

He seems to be thinking too many thoughts to process, but suddenly he dips down and kisses you. It’s short, but it’s soft, and you have a look of surprise on your face as he pulls away. “I wish we had gotten to go on our date, but I really wish that this doesn’t stop us from going on another one.” He looks at you in anticipation, and you melt.

“I wouldn’t pass it up for the world, Doc. Why don’t you go get ready and I’ll drive you there. We can plan the next one in the car.” You kiss his cheek and go to sit back down, and he shuffles away to his bedroom with a stupid smile tugging at his lips.

A/N: So… thoughts on part 3 with newly established relationship reid x reader ? Equally, thoughts on me adding smut somewhere along the line?

#criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #fem!reader

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pookietv · 6 months ago

Text

online embarrassment (part two!) | arthurtv

a dedication to @casualvanilla into bullying me to write a part two :3

being curious about arthur and his seemingly strange occupation choice, in your eyes at least, of commentating 90 day fiance, you decided that you may as well watch a little of the show, seeing if you could see what made it so interesting.

especially since you and him had been talking much more frequently, playing a couple of games of chess together most evenings, over discord calls and instagram messages

and your curiosity had definitely been quashed once you had watched as much as you could stomach of insanely dysfunctional relationships, exploitation and men going for women far too young for them.

so, with your newfound knowledge, you decided to text arthur again.

youruser: why is literally every couple on 90 day fiance either insanely malfunctioning or borderline exploitative

arthurtv: ah, i see you have exposed yourself to the world of discovery+

arthurtv: and in all honesty, that is kind of the grim premise of the show, a kind of strangely twisted curiosity makes us all watch them fall apart

youruser: grim is definitely the word for it

arthurtv: so are you doing anything tonight?

youruser: unfortunately, i have little plans that don't involve reading so many academic journals until my eyeballs fall out :(

arthurtv: i never even asked you what you study?

youruser: oh, i study politics with a focus on international law right now :)

arthurtv: no way! i studied law when i was at uni

youruser: when was that, fifteen years ago?

arthurtv: ha ha very funny i am twenty eight

arthurtv: ps, you're almost as dedicated to your uni work as you are to your outrageous bishop sacrifices

youruser: anyway, are you doing anything tonight?

arthurtv: going round to some of my friends house cause he's forcing us to rewatch the lord of the rings series

arthurtv: though that is fair enough because i have forced him to watch harry potter so many times

youruser: i've never even seen harry potter

arthurtv: WHAT

youruser: oopsie

youruser: just never got round to it

arthurtv: you need to watch it!!!!

youruser: it just doesn't seem like my kind of thing!

arthurtv: we can't be friends anymore smh

youruser: that sounds great! blocking you rn

arthurtv: shut up you

arthurtv: anyway, i had an idea, if you're down

youruser: and what would that idea be

arthurtv: i think we should meet up and play actual chess on an actual chessboard (and maybe drink a few bevs)

youruser: well, i mean, i don't even know if i should be meeting you, after all you are the Insane Chess Killer Man >:)

youruser: and if i didn't know any better, sounds like you're describing a date

arthurtv: hm that's a good point, i was looking for a new victim

youruser: are you referencing the insane chess killing or the date as the victim?

arthurtv: you can't see me but i am rolling my eyes so hard right now

youruser: okay, a truce on the serial killer jokes

arthurtv: thank god. what about tomorrow night?

youruser: drunk chess and a takeaway sounds good to me

youruser: the classiest first date

so that was that, he had texted you his address and to come round at seven so he could, in his words, destroy you in chess.

after a long day at uni and a slight worry, though you didn't know why, about meeting him, you started to get ready to go to his house.

since you were just going to his house, you settled on some flared leggings and a soft blue jumper, tying your hair into a somewhat tamed ponytail before looking in the mirror, making sure your light makeup hadn't smudged too much after a day of back to back lectures and discussion groups.

he didn't live too far from you, surprisingly, just a couple tube stops away, so you decided to walk, about twenty five minutes to his apartment, in a block of flats facing the river thames, and as you arrived at the building and pressed the button in the elevator for his floor, slightly picking at your nails with nerves.

what if it was insanely awkward in person? or what if he is a weird catfish looking for victims on chess websites? that seemed insane, right?

but your mind was working overtime as the buttons lit up and the elevator door opened, and you tried to unfurrow your eyebrows and look for his door number, finding it towards the end of the hall.

you waited a moment before knocking, bringing your hand up and timidly rapping it against the dark wood of the door.

when it swung open, and you saw that he was indeed who he said he was, or at least who he was on his instagram pictures, you smiled a little in relief.

"arthur! hi, it's nice to meet you, well, in person, you know..." you giggled a slight bit quietly as he gave you a friendly hug.

"you too! didn't know if i was just being catfished or something," he joked a little awkwardly back.

"me a catfish? i figured you would be a catfish, what would i even be catfishing you for?" you joked back, and he shrugged.

"i don't know, i don't get many pretty girls randomly texting me cause we played chess together so i wasn't sure," he said a little embarrassed, and your cheeks went slightly pink when he called you pretty.

"well, who knew that the insane chess killer had a hidden talent for flattery," i laughed slightly as he welcomed me in, shutting the door behind me.

he rolled his eyes jokingly, "hey, based on the way you insulted me with no remorse during chess games i was expecting you to be terrifying, so you can't blame me for being surprised at how easy you are on the eyes," he grinned a little, and it was your turn to roll your eyes in return.

"anyway, come in, honestly just make yourself at home... unless you're worried about losing to me on my own turf," he joked.

"i mean, i'm kind of impressed by your 'turf'," you giggled, "it's nice for a guy that exploits reality tv for views," you teased and he laughed a little as he led you to his living room, a chessboard set up on his coffee table, pillows on either side on the floor to sit on.

"hey, low blow," he mockingly warned, "i'd watch it otherwise i'll conveniently lose your queen piece," he said before quickly standing to go to his kitchen, "i have southern comfort and lemonade, if that's okay with you? it's kind of my weird speciality drink," he smiled.

"well, i suppose i'll have to try the arthurtv special then," i nodded in return, and after a few moments, he returned with two glasses, placing them at either side of the table as he sat himself down on the side of the board playing black pieces.

"so we're going straight for the intellectual torture of chess?" you grinned as you sat opposite him, "the girls must find it so charming when you sit straight at the chess board on a date, hm?" you teased in retaliation.

"oh shut up you, and prepare to lose, again," he smiled as you moved your first piece, "at least my view will be nice when i crush you,"

as the game progressed, there was joking smack-talk thrown between you and arthur, neither of you focusing too much on the game but more on the subtle flirting between each move.

"that rook sacrifice was not your best work," he laughed, but you raised your eyebrow at him as you moved another piece,

"or maybe i was setting a trap that you didn't see, hm, mr. television?"

as he captured one of your pieces in return, his fingers gently brushed against yours and you grinned, before swatting his hand jokingly, "hey, focus on the game!" you giggled out as he laughed in return and nodded.

about half way through the game, the focus had shifted slightly from both being heartset on winning to enjoying one another's company, nattering on about arthur's job and your degree.

at one particular point, you stopped, looking down at the board, tongue slightly poking out of your mouth in concentration as your brain worked as quickly as it could, trying to analyse the best move.

"what're you thinking?" he asked as he shuffled slightly closer, and you could smell his cologne, a kind of vanilla and cedarwood scent as you tried your best to ignore it.

"i'm trying to strategise, unlike some of us who rely on distracting the other to win," you teased slightly, and you could hear him chuckle a little.

"i'm plenty distracted myself, hard not to be when you look cute like that when you concentrate so hard."

you paused a little at the flirting, trying not to let your cheeks flush bright red, "stop trying to put me off my game, arthur," you playfully smiled.

once a couple more moves had been played, arthur missed what was seemingly an obvious capture he could have made, which would have put you at a disadvantage, and once you quickly realised and made sure your piece was defended, you tilted your head a little - arthur didn't often make mistakes like that.

"i completely missed that, fuck sake!" he mumbled to himself with a small smile on his face.

after a while longer of playing, and a few moves you didn't think arthur would normally make, you had him in checkmate, a grin on your face.

"looks like we're gonna have to have a rematch at some point," he looked at the board and shrugged his shoulders a little.

you narrowed your eyes at him a little with a small smile, "did you throw the game so we could have a rematch?"

"i think i may use the lawyer lingo here and announce that i refuse to answer on the basis that i may implicate myself," he laughed a little to himself.

#arthur frederick #arthur frederick x reader #arthurtv x reader #arthurtv

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impala-dreamer · 6 months ago

Text

Temptation & Consequences

A Short Story

~Jensen has been busy all weekend at the convention, leaving little time for fun with his girl. Luckily, Y/N knows how to get his attention... and more...~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

2,176 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Dom!Jensen, sub!Bratty!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Kinda rough(ish) sex, Delicious.

A/N: Another block off my @jacklesversebingo board. The prompt was "temptation". Also written for Kym who wanted some hair pulling. Hope you all enjoy!

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

His phone buzzed.

He couldn’t hear it, but he felt it vibrating in the front left pocket of his tight jeans.

Ignoring the alert, Jensen stepped up to the mic stand and reached for it, tipping it up slightly so that it was aimed at his lips. He smiled and the crowd swooned. That was all it took- just a flash of a grin and a sweep of green eyes and the whole room fell to its knees. It was too much power, and inevitably fleeting, but he loved it just the same.

Another alert shook against his thigh and Jensen’s attention was pulled away from the purple-haired teen who was timidly inching closer to asking her actual question. He knew who was texting and it was all he could do not to sneak a peek at his screen.

“...And yeah, so I just wanted to say thank you. My mom and I really love Supernatural.”

Jensen smiled and nodded in thanks. “Your mom?”

The girl blushed. “Yeah. She made me watch.”

The cell buzzed again.

Jensen pursed his lips and narrowed his gaze at the girl. “Your mom,” he said again, making the front row snigger. He raised a brow and acted offended. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I am so old…”

The crowd laughed and the girl hid her face.

“I’m sorry!”

Jensen shook his head. “Fourteen,” he echoed. “Sheesh. Who’s your favorite Winchester?”

The girl chewed her lip and bashfully leaned into the microphone.

“Well?” Jensen grew comically annoyed.

She cleared her throat. “Sam.”

With great flare, Jensen tossed his hands up into the air and spun away.

As the audience enjoyed the theatrics, Jensen’s pocket vibrated twice and he gave in, dragging it free from his jeans. While the room was distracted, he checked the messages and his pulse raced.

‘You look so fucking hot today, J.’

‘that shirt is killing me. The buttons… your huge arms…’

Jensen looked up at the crowd, his cheeks beginning to burn.

‘Need your big cock in my mouth’

‘Or right here…’

He scrolled down to the last message and was met with a close up of Y/N’s bare tits. Her nipples were hard, her skin creamy and begging to be touched.

With a thick swallow, Jensen closed the messages and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

“This is why I don’t do panels alone!” he joked, swinging back toward the mic.

Fans came and went, questions flew around his head. There was nothing that he hadn’t been asked before and he was able to phone it in well, all the while thinking about his own phone. Two more texts came through but he refused to look at them, knowing Y/N was just upping the ante by teasing him some more.

“Who would win in a fight, Soldier Boy or Dean?”

Jensen laughed at the question as if he’d never heard it before. He had.

Another buzz.

He scratched a hand down his cheek and grabbed his phone, looking quickly before jamming it into his back pocket.

‘Hurry. Im starting without you’

A photo of her fingers against her thighs, tips poised and ready to dip into the sweet honey between.

He hissed a breath in and then let it out slowly, pretending to ponder the question. Finally:

“Well, obviously Soldier Boy is a supe, so he’s stronger…”

The crowd was divided, half cheering, half booing. Jensen held up his hands and called for patience.

“That being said,” he growled into the mic, “Dean is a genius and he’s always got a plan. I think he could kick a little ass before goin’ down, don’t you?”

Half a smile from his plump lips pulled the audience back together and everyone, no matter which character they favored, cheered and had Jensen’s back.

He always won them over.

The final message came through and he glanced at the screen while the audience carried on. A photo of her wet fingers pulling at her juicy bottom lip greeted him. Her pink tongue was curled and ready to steal a taste and Jensen could all but hear her intoxicating moan.

He clenched his jaw, shoved the phone back in his pocket and slyly adjusted himself.

She was gonna get it.

He’d make sure of it.

Y/N was backstage when he stepped through the curtain. Phone in hand, she leaned against the wall, eyes heavily painted and staring as if he were the only thing she could see. She was dressed up for the convention, skirt short and boots tall.

Green eyes traipsed down her body, making her pulse quicken.

Jensen shook a few hands, chatted quickly with his assigned volunteer handler, and fake-smiled at everyone around him. He kept one eye on Y/N, glaring his disapproval and offering a stern warning.

She could run if she wanted to, but he knew she wouldn’t.

Pleasantries done, he pushed through the crowd and slowly walked towards her. She stood up straight as if pulled by puppet strings and bit her lip, scared but aglow with anticipation.

He dipped his chin and pointed at her with a solo finger, shooting an invisible bullet at the center of her. She shivered and he motioned quickly to the hallway.

Defiant, she stood frozen on the spot until his thick fingers curled around her upper arm and yanked.

Not a word was spoken.

Not until the door slammed behind him.

“You think you’re funny?” he asked, flicking on the light and illuminating the empty conference room. A long, highly polished table sat in the middle of the room, its chairs stacked against the blank back wall.

Jensen took a step toward her and Y/N countered, falling back a pace.

“Well?”

She swallowed hard and smiled. “I mean… I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

He sucked his teeth. “And what, exactly, were you trying to do?”

A tingle of fear soaked arousal ran down her spine and Y/N took another step backwards.

“Um… Just trying to… uh…”

“Get yourself in trouble?” he grit.

She shook her head teasingly slowly. “No…”

He loomed above her. “Get me hard on stage in front of everyone?”

She bit back a grin. “No?”

He lunged forward, grabbing a giant fistful of hair and tugging her around. She spun on the spot, guided by his firm grip, and held in a gasping cry.

“You wanted my blood to boil, didn’t you, little girl?”

She held her breath.

He pulled harder and her back arched.

“You wanted to get me so worked up that I’d have no choice but to take out all my frustrations on you.”

Jensen turned his wrist and wound her hair around his hand. Her neck lengthened and curved backward. He dipped his lips to her ear, growling deeply.

“Was that your plan?” He tugged again and she moaned. “Answer me.”

His breath on her ear sparked goosebumps along her throat. His voice made her tremble. The surge of pain he invoked traveled down to her cunt and she could feel herself drip.

She exhaled her reply. “Yes…”

A tiny smirk played upon his plump lips.

“Did you think you’d get away with it?” he teased, pulling her back to fall against his chest. The hand in her hair dropped to her throat and his fingers curled around the front. He didn’t squeeze, just kept his hand in place, letting her know that he could.

She knew it all too well.

“Did you think I wouldn’t punish you for all that teasing?”

She swallowed against his palm. “I… I knew you would.”

Jensen snaked his left hand around her waist and up to grab her breast. She whimpered, let her head fall back against him.

“Wanted you to,” she confessed.

He pinched her nipple and snapped his teeth by her ear. She shivered.

“You’re a bad girl, Y/N…”

Helplessly, she nodded. “I am.”

His fingers tightened gently around her pulse points and Y/N’s eyes fluttered. Her heart raced, her head became fuzzy.

“Such a fucking brat,” he hissed. His left hand slid down her front, tucked into the warmth between her thighs. He hummed darkly when his fingers slipped against bare flesh. “No panties, either?” He tapped on her slit. “You are asking for it.”

He teased her pussy, dragging his middle finger back and forth over the sensitive outer lips but never pushing inside. Y/N rolled her hips back and felt his cock, hard and trapped in his jeans.

She chewed her lip and wiggled her ass against him. “You gonna give it to me or do I have to go find someone else to help out?”

His voice deepened. His fingers squeezed a bit more. “Excuse me?”

Y/N laughed teasingly. “I don’t know, Rob’s looking pretty hot today… got that sexy beard going-”

With a shove from behind, the table came up to greet her and Y/N found herself face down on the polished top.

“You think so?” Jensen yanked her skirt up, exposing her ass and wet cunt.

“I always think Rob is hot,” she answered, pressing her luck.

Jensen opened his belt, ripped his zipper down.

“Especially with that stupid little hat…”

He’d had enough.

He clenched his teeth, kicked her feet apart, and grabbed her hips.

“Shut up,” he warned.

Y/N smiled into the cold wood. “The things I would let him do to me…”

“I said, shut up.”

Y/N opened her mouth to expand upon her lustful feelings for his friend, but Jensen forced a choked cry out of her instead.

In one unceremonious thrust, he was buried deep in her slick hole. Her pussy gripped him tight and Jensen inhaled hard and loud, his eyes snapping shut as lust and relief washed over him.

“Fuck…”

Y/N’s eyes rolled as he crushed into her from behind; the warm, solid mass of him pinning her to the table. She managed to push her palms up against her chest and lift her head, but his thrusts were quick and powerful, each forcing her back down onto the table.

“God, Jay-” Her voice crackled. Her breath stuttered.

His nails dug into her sides and Y/N moaned.

“Needed this so fucking bad,” she whimpered.

Jensen clawed at her ass and then slapped her left cheek hard.

She gasped but couldn’t move away. Moaned but couldn’t reach for more. She was desperately captive.

Another crack and she melted. Gentle pain spread like warm honey through her system and she relaxed, falling into his rapid rhythm.

His hips jerked faster, cock jabbed in deeper. She clenched around him, her body pulsing with edging pleasure.

“Please-”

Jensen growled wordlessly, lost in the moment. He bent his knees, dipped down and slowly stroked upwards.

Y/N hissed and clawed helplessly at the table. With nothing to hold onto, nothing to scratch, her nails slid across the smooth top and she shuddered. “Fuck! Please!”

Once more, he grabbed her hair; his palm pushing hard at the base of her skull. He twisted his wrist, yanking up a ponytail into his fist.

“Yeah? You want all this?”

He pulled and her back arched, lifting her chest from the table.

Her voice was shaking. “Y-yes!”

The web of pain mixed with his swift thrusts and Y/N came, her body squeezing him hard. Jensen let out a tight-lipped cry and slammed into her again and again, quickly following along.

“Fucking, fuck!”

When his hand relaxed, Y/N fell back down to the table and struggled to slow her breath. She could feel him stuffed inside, hesitant to back away.

“So good, baby,” she cooed.

Gently, he let himself fall over her and lean close to kiss her cheek. “Was, wasn’t it?” He grinned, toothy and punch drunk.

“Remind me to text you more,” she laughed as he moved away, releasing her from captivity.

He shook his head, tucked himself away. “Don’t even think about it.”

Green eyes were stern, but she knew he’d enjoyed himself too.

Spinning around, Y/N pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. She licked into his mouth while sneaking a hand around to dig in his back pocket. Quickly, she withdrew his ever-present bandana. His cum was beginning to drip down her thigh and she needed to wipe it away before heading back out into the real world.

She took a step back with the kerchief and Jensen grabbed her wrist.

“I don’t think so,” he grunted, ripping the bandana from her hand.

Y/N startled and gaped up at him. “But- I gotta clean up-”

His teeth dug into his lip. He shook his head. “No. Leave it.”

Turning away from her, he shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket and headed to the door.

She gasped as his hand hit the knob. “Jensen! Someone might notice!”

Looking back over his shoulder, he cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it? Maybe next time, you’ll consider the consequences.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!) @alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #spn #the boys

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badaseyebags · 9 months ago

Text

private lessons ⋆｡°✩ chapter 2 ⟢

fluffy, suggestive, smut in upcoming chapters

word count: 3k+ (phew)

warnings: very obvious power dynamics, just some making out, a bit of begging, lots of praise, lots of pet names, BADA CALLS HERSELF MOMMY!!!! aaaa

author’s note: i’m back 😳 i’m sorry that this took much longer then i expected, pls don’t block me 😞 i hope this is readable and not too disappointing @-@ i promise there’s actual smut coming soon! feel free to leave some feedback/suggestions! thank you so much for reading ♡ -booger 🍞

with one last glance in the mirror you gathered the remainder of your courage and slipped on your shoes, grabbing your purse with shaky hands. why were you so nervous? it’s not like you’re going over to her house to get bent over. you’re simply going to get tutored. unfortunately you remind yourself why you’re in this position in the first place, due to your lack of concentration during her classes. you sigh shaking your head, applying a second coat your favourite lipgloss nonetheless, just for good measures! was it too much? was it obvious you put in a little more effort than you usually do? would she notice? why would she? and why do you even care so much in the first place? she’s just a teacher after all..

she had texted you the address and you realised she actually lived a bit further, which is probably why she offered to come pick you up in the first place, not wanting to inconvenience her any further you politely refused. maybe you were starting to regret it knowing it’ll take a long time to get there by bus, and you’ll most likely be late.. late to your first ever tutoring class, what a great way to start. woohoo!

you put your headphones on, making your way into the bus and finding an empty seat all the way in the back. that way you could have some privacy to collect yourself before you meet her. actually.. that wasn’t really working and you began getting more nervous so you decided to pull out your notebook to mindlessly doodle for the time being. it turned out quite cute you thought to yourself, staring at the sketch, imagining those two figures kissing were you and her. oh no, you’re doing it again. you and your stupid imagination! and that’s not even the first time you caught yourself doing something so silly. you close your notebook shoving it back into your bag, just a few stops away from your destination. phew. time to actually collect yourself!

with wobbly knees you make your way to her apartment, palms sweaty as you smooth them over your skirt. 10 minutes, you’re 10 minutes late.. would she notice? she’s having a day off that she sacrificed specifically to help you, and you dare come late? oh no, you’re definitely screwed. you start panicking as guilt washes over you, practicing your apology in your head, accidentally ringing her doorbell in the process. fuck. you didn’t mean to do that just yet, you weren’t ready. if you’re fast enough you can just ru-

you heard the door nob turning, soon revealing a tall slim figure in front of you. “oh miss y/n! you decided to show up after all, and here i thought you didn’t need my help anymore” she teases giving you a half smile making your heart jump, not only due to you being late, but because of how effortlessly attractive she looked with her two toned hair tied back into a messy loose braid, complimenting her light blue button up paired with some slacks. not to mention the sound of her half groggy voice calling out your name and the way it slid past her lips so smoothly.

“h-hello mrs. lee i am so sorry for being late! i didn’t”before you could finish your apology she chuckled, shaking her head. “no need to apologise sweetie, i was just teasing a little. come on in, make yourself at home.” you blink up at her, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. you just greeted her and messed up? damn already? was it because she called you sweetie?! god, you’re hopeless.

“i won’t bite.” she chuckled again, walking into her apartment leaving you with no choice but to follow behind her, timidly shutting the door as you entered. you swore you could hear her quietly mumble something under her breath, but you decided it was your twisted mind playing tricks on you once again. for the sake of your sanity. “here here, have a seat. care for some tea? coffee perhaps?” she pulls out a chair for you and this small gesture alone has your heart fluttering for no reason. you look down shyly, taking a seat and avoiding her gaze. “i..uh.. anything is fine, thank you.” you mumble trying not to keep yourself composed. she smiles nodding as she reaches for the jar of instant coffee. “i haven’t had my coffee yet, since i wasn’t sure if you’d like to drink some with me. do you like yours with milk, sugar?” was she calling you sugar or was she asking you whether or not you wanted sugar in your coffee? …and she waited for you to have coffee? yeah, as if. you need to stop being delusional. “miss y/n?” she glanced back at you knocking you of out your prolonged silence. “i-i would like both please.. i like my coffee s-sweet” you close your eyes in embarrassment as another stutter leaves your clumsy lips. you swear you never stutter. she chuckles in response as she prepares your drink. “we are quite the opposite, i prefer mine black.” she gives you a soft smile, sitting down across from you, setting your drink in front of you. you mutter a shy thank you as your hands reach for the spoon, mixing some sugar into the warm beverage. “oh that’s nothing, i usually make really good coffee but my coffee machine broke recently so.. instant coffee will have to do for now.” you nod quickly, fingers gripping the handle and side of the cup. “that’s fine! any coffee is good! i actually prefer instant it’s not like i know much about coffee anyways-” your lips are faster then your brain causing you to blurt out such a fact about you, which only made her smile wider. “oh we really are opposites, maybe i could change your mind once i make you a proper cup, hm?” you blush nodding fast in agreement, did that mean you’d be seeing her more then just this one time? you try to calm your nerves by bringing the cup to your lips, taking a little sip. maybe it’s better to keep your mouth busy so you don’t end up embarrassing yourself even more.

“so y/n… just how much experience do you really have?” she also brings her own cup to her lips, eyes fixated on yours. your eyes widen, the coffee you tried swallowing getting stuck in the back of your throat at her question, resulting you in coughing out loud making her put her cup down and lean towards you in worry. “are you alright sweetie? was it too hot? did it burn you?” you cover your mouth, calming yourself down as you shake your head noticing bada is very professional and calm despite asking such a personal question.

maybe you are too shy after all and you should be more open when it comes to talking about your sex life. people do it all the time, it’s totally natural. you hear others talk about it all the time. but then again why would she ask you such a private question out of nowhere? maybe she’s just a very social person, this is how adults talk and there shouldn’t be shame. it’s not like you ever talked about sexual things with anyone, but you know others do. like with their friends, parents, therapists, lovers.. you just need to get over the embarrassment and step out of your shell, you could learn a lot from her, be as mature as she is, even when it comes to such topics. she sure wouldn’t judge you no matter what, she’s a teacher after all. “i’m fine! i’m just.. not too good at talking about such topics.. but i… well…i don’t have much experience… none at all actually. that’s really embarrassing to admit. others my age have already done so.. many times.. maybe i am really slow or something..” you chew on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your head up to look at her, choosing to look into your cup instead. if you could see your own reflection in the coffee you’re sure your face would be beet red by now. that’s when bada herself chokes a little as your unexpected response.

you totally misinterpreted what she was asking. she was asking about your experience on the subject she was supposed to tutor you on, not your sexual experience. did she give you the wrong impression? was she being too obvious with her interest in you? were her flirting attempts not as subtle as she attempted? no way, with how empty headed you are they probably flew right past you, she thought. well.. it’s not like she wasn’t curious about that in the first place, but she wouldn’t have asked so suddenly. however, she didn’t have the heart to embarrass you like that by correcting you and telling you that you misunderstood her question.

she just cleared her throat and went along with it. was she willing to risk it all? this made her want to corrupt you even more, but she can’t. not yet. you made her lose her composure. she needed to fix that and get back in charge. she won’t let it, let you, fluster her. “sweetie..there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. that’s exactly what i’m here for.” she decided to test out the waters, see if you were as submissive and truly empty minded around her as she painted you to be. her hand was itching to get a feel of your skin, she was struggling to fight it. she needs to take this slow she reminds herself, she doesn’t want to scare you away. but it seems like you’re already falling into her trap. your eyes instantly snap up to meet hers, to make sure weather you heard her correctly.

“it would be such a pity if you left without learning anything.. wouldn’t that make me a bad teacher, hm?” she furrows her brows in faux sympathy as her hand finally reaches out, gently cupping your cheek making you look up at her. you gasp at the sudden contact and your current situation. “oh y-yeah… i’m here to be tutored-“ you try to avoid her gaze, once again looking down in embarrassment. your nervousness made you think of studying again, which is the reason she invited you over. right? you must be totally misunderstanding this. you’re just being delusional, you tell yourself.

despite you both sitting down she visibly towered over you, not just in her height, but in her presence alone. you could feel her knees ever so gently pressing against your own if you weren’t trying so hard to distract yourself.

was she sitting so close to you from the start?

she scoffs in amusement, her lips forming a fake frown. “oh you poor little thing.. you really thought i wouldn’t notice the way you look at me during class? that i can’t see right through that pretty little head of yours? you’re a smart girl y/n, we both know you don’t actually have a issue with learning..” your cheeks heat up as you’re forced to meet her gaze that looks more intimidating then ever. she just exposed you. she knew it this whole time. you didn’t think your crush on her was that visible. your lips part to speak but no words come out making her grin. her thumb slides past your bottom lip ever so gently, almost knocking the air out your lungs. “i think.. you could do so much better, all you need is just a little motivation.” she hovers over you, her thumb now reaching the corner of your lips, collecting the remainder of coffee and bringing it up to her own lips. her eyes flutter shut momentarily, licking her thumb clean and savouring the flavour with a hum. “so sweet indeed..” she hooks her pointer finger under your chin, making you look up at her. chuckling softly she leans in further, her thumb stroking just below your bottom lip as her eyes trail from your eyes to your lips and back. “are you gonna let me have a taste, doll?”

you gulp, your own eyes focused on her lips, slowly nodding as you look up at her. “now now, wouldn’t that be too easy?” she leans in closer, lips near your ear. “you’ll have to be a good girl and ask for it.” your mouth goes completely dry as you gulp. your hands clutch a fist full of your skirt, tension so thick it could cut air separating you two. you mutter under your breath, scared your voice will betray you. “mrs. lee.. could you.. umm.. can you kiss me?” you shut your eyes tight, hoping she would kiss you then and there. instead you only hear a dry chuckle.

you open your eyes, attention on her as she tucks a stray hair behind your ear, confusion painted on your face. “thats not how a good girl asks. not even a please? now that’s not very polite, is it? i’m starting to think you don’t deserve it.” you whine shaking your head. “no no i’m sorry! please… please kiss me?” you look up at her desperately. “aww you want a kiss that bad?” she coos cupping your cheek, smirking at the heat of it against her hand. you nod fast, leaning into her touch, totally submitting to her.

“use your words, tell mommy what you want.” she raises her brow, waiting for you to finally say it. your cheeks feel like they’re on fire now, heart beating faster then before as you stumble over your own words. “m-mommy?” you shyly repeat after her, eyes widening, cheeks painted red. you could see the shift in her eyes, and the way it affected her.

she closes her eyes for a little, biting her lip almost as if she’s savouring the sound of your voice calling her that. “how fucking cute.” she rests her thumb against your bottom lip, softly pulling it down. “doing such a good job begging mommy for a kiss…” you close your eyes tightly at her praise, almost whining from such a small action. she leans in, her lips just a few millimetres away from your own. you could feel her breath against your lips, covering your skin in goosebumps. she keeps one of her hands against your cheek, while the other rests against the top of the chair you’re sitting on. she gives your cheek a soft stroke before finally connecting both of your lips.

her soft plump lips smashing against yours felt like a reward. it felt like they were on fire, the way your lips burnt when she pressed her own against them. her fingers against your skin were so gentle, tracing the outline of your cheek, barely touching your skin as if you were made of glass. her lips were telling a different story as her kisses only deepened. you didn’t know what to do with your hands so you loosely griped the fabric of her blouse. she felt you fidgeting and decided to slide one of her hands down to reach for your hand, giving them a soft squeeze before wrapping them around her neck. this gave her the opportunity to drag her hands down your body as she scooped you up in her arms. without breaking the kiss she lifted you and placed you on the table next to her, making you wrap your arms around her tighter. she experimentally dragged her tongue against your bottom lip so gently, your lips parted in surprise. she smirked sneaking her tongue inside your parted lips that granted her access. you let out a little whimper at the feeling of your tongues gliding against each other. you could almost taste the bitterness of the coffee aftertaste mixing with your sweet one and for once, it was delicious. you were everything she wanted and she wanted.. needed more. eager to be closer to you, one of her hands slid down your thigh, slightly parting them as she pushed herself in between, she just couldn’t get enough. with one of her large hands hand stroking the outer side of your thigh, and other one playing with your hair you couldn’t help but shiver in her touch. it was like she was devouring you whole. your body feeling so soft and tiny pressed up against hers. it was driving her insane. she pulled away breathing heavy, admiring your flushed face and slightly messed up hair, remainders of your lipstick smeared all over your lips as you look at her with what she could only describe as hearts in your eyes.

fuck, she’s so screwed. she knows it’s over for her. you wrapped her around your pretty little finger and you didn’t even know about it. heck, you didn’t even have to do anything. you submit to her so easily and that was more then she needed. there’s no way she could just return to just being your teacher, she had to make you hers. you pout slightly as she pulls away, already reaching for her, wanting to feel her lips against yours again. you got her heart beating as hard as she made yours. subconsciously shivering in her arms. as she leans in placing gentle pecks on your lips followed by your cheeks, so much more gentle and affectionate then she was just moments ago. “mommy has to stop before she gets too greedy..” she breathes out as she cleans your messed up lips with her thumb, knowing what she meant you nod, still leaning into her touch. she pressed a final kiss to your lips before pulling you into her embrace, your head in her chest, hands soothing your back.

“let me drive you home precious, it’s way too late for you to be going out on your own.” she gently pats your head, before she realises. “you didn’t bring any jacket with you?” you shake your head at her question, once again fidgeting with your skirt, slightly swinging your feet back and forth as they dangled off the table. “i’m not letting you leave like this.” you blush looking up at her as she brings you her sweater that is much bigger on you then it is on her. she taps your arms signalling you to raise them which you do, making her smile as she dresses you up. “how cute..” she admires you for a moment, fighting back the urge to squeeze you in her arms before offering you her hand which you accept as she helps you off the table. unable to keep her hands off you, she’s smoothing her hands over your clothes in attempt to fix them. “are you ready to go, pretty girl?” she pecks your nose, grabbing her keys as she grabs your hand. you giggle nodding as your heart flutters at her treatment, clinging onto her arm, letting you guide you to her car.

of course she opened the door for you and closed it after you sat down before she got in herself. of course she told you to keep the sweater because she wants to see you in it more often. of course she told you to keep this a secret as she pecked your forehead goodbye. of course your head was filled with nothing but her as you laid in your bed, wearing nothing but her sweater as you drifted into slumber, hoping you could see her even in your dreams, the scenes from earlier on repeat. you were starting to really look forward to these private lessons..

#bada lee smut #bada lee fluff #bada lee x reader #swf2 x reader #bada lee #bada lee imagine

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sebsbarnes · 10 months ago

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hello! this request may seem a bit strange but I'd like to request a one-shot about tangerine getting a call from his girlfriend to pick her up because some strangers followed her after getting off the station. This unfortunately happened to me and I'm still shocked, I got off 3 stations before mine, I went into a convenience store and they still managed to follow me... I called my half-brother to pick me up but he didn't want to 😃 and he still blamed me for studying at night. sorry for my terrible english, i'm desperate for comfort 🥺 thank you! i love your blog ❤️

hii! thank you for loving my blog and thank you for sending in a request :) i am going to do it in bullet points i hope that is okay, and i wanted to say i am so sorry this happened to you, i've been in this situation numerous times and it truly is scary and completely unjust to be placed in a position where you feel nervous, alone, and in danger because someone is harassing and stalking you. we shouldn't have to but carrying pepper spray or an alarm is always beneficial or even talking to shop owners could help. i hope you are feeling better from this experience and you can always chat to me if you need to :)

tangerine intervenes a stalker headcanon

warnings: talks of stalking, nothing descriptive

masterlist

you're out on the town doing some shopping that you had been avoiding and you had already been trying to muster through the long day of shopping

what didn't help was when you realized you started seeing two familiar faces at each stop

you had gotten off at a stop so you could go into a soap shop a block from the station

that's when you first noticed the two men

but you didn't think much about it then...it was a saturday afternoon and this was a popular shop and the station you had just left from was the closest

you picked up some soaps you needed for the apartment, thanking the cashier and headed for the door when a man darted in front of you and grabbed the door for you

"oh! thank you!" you smiled at him before turning back to the station

you got back on the train and soon noticed the man that grabbed the door for you and his friend, both of whom were staring intensely at you from across the car, you shot them a forced smile and turned your back, ready to get off again

there was a clothing store nearby that tangerine loved and you wanted to pop in and see if there was something you could buy him

you went up and down the aisle running your hands over the fabric when you felt eyes on you... familiar eyes

through the rack, you saw one of the men again

'they just have to be shopping...right?'

with quick feet and a fast beating heart you maneuvered throughout the store to lose them

you looked up at the mirrors lining the ceiling on the side of the store and saw the two men talking with each other and pointing towards where you walked to... but then they left the store.

you clutched your chest, attempting to steady your breath. you refused to leave now so you wasted a good fifteen minutes in the store before buying tangerine a new tie and leaving

you felt good leaving, no eyes on you, no weird feeling in the pit of your stomach until you passed a small alleyway and then heard two sets of feet thumping on the sidewalk behind you

whipping your head to the side you watched the windows fly past you and that's when you noticed it was the two men in the reflection... a decent enough space behind you, but still too close

you felt sick and your hands were clammy and a bit shaky

'did they know tangerine? were they from a mission?' you kept thinking

tangerine... YES! tangerine!

you pulled your phone out and pressed the call button

an empty soda can went flying into your feet from behind and when you looked the two men were smirking, one of them chewing on a piece of gum with his mouth open

you fastened your pace and felt tears line your eyes... you were scared

"hey lov-"

"TAN! oh my god thank god you answered"

"what's wrong?" tangerine asked, he was now standing up hearing the fear in your voice

"there's these men they won't stop following me and-"

"where are you?" he cut you off

you heard his keys jingle in the background when you told him what was nearby and he instructed you to continue walking but be vigilant and that he would be here any second

oh and he is pissed. he is FUMING. his vision has turned white similar to his fingers that were gripping the sterling wheel with such intensity it was shaking

tangerine was a lot of things... and today he turned into a fucking racecar driver

you were fast walking on the sidewalk, the men a far enough distance behind you when you saw tangerine's car flying down the street. once the front of his car past you he jerked the wheel and turned the car onto the sidewalk, you stopped walking and watched him step out of the vehicle

the men had to abruptly stop so they didn't get hit

"what the FUCK?" one of them yelled, throwing his arms up

tangerine shot you a wink before adjusting his brass knuckles and rounding the hood of the car to the men

"oh, i'm sorry mate, did i get in your fuckin' way of followin' that young lady?" tangerine asked

the guys pretended to be clueless which only angered tan more before he started punching them. the guys weakly pleaded for tangerine to stop, but that's not how tangerine works... he stops when he wants to

"maybe you should be productive with your sad lives rather than stalking poor young women you disgusting pieces of shit. how'd you feel if i spent every day following you around, huh? do you think i should do that, mr. miller?" tangerine asked, looking at one of their IDs, "maybe i'll hang onto this, a keepsake, yanno?"

tangerine took the men's IDs, making a mental note that he will pay them a visit at their homes, and leaving them on the ground with blood pouring from their noses and split skin

he tossed their IDs and the brass knuckles into the car and walked over to you

"are you alright?" he asked with worried eyes running his hands over your arms

you nodded your head and leaned forward into his chest, the sound of his heartbeat calming you

"c'mon, let's leave before the police come. we can go home and just lay on the couch today, yeah? i'll pick up some takeout tonight, anything you want love"

tangerine grabbed the shopping bags from your hands and guided you to the car. you rolled down your window as the men stood to their feet

"assholes!"

tangerine let out a small laugh, placing a hand on your knee as you gave them the middle finger

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

Text

Dirty Work 37

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: wowee, it's snowing here a lot.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki… Mr. Laufeyson doesn’t linger. As you lay in a sheen of foggy afterglow, he dresses and mutters to himself. You want to ask him to stay. To tell him it’s okay but you’re scared he might say no. So you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him button his shirt.

“We both require a good night’s rest to contend with my family,” he says.

You nod and sit up, sliding your legs beneath the blankets. He looks up as you do and a line creases in his forehead. His worry makes you worry. You’re starting to get the feeling that something bad is looming.

“In the morning,” he avows before he turns away. “You will not emerge until I fetch you.”

“Yes, Loki,” you answer.

He stops at the doors and lowers his head, “here, behind these walls, I am Loki, beyond, Mr. Laufeyson. Understand, pet?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur.

He pulls open the door and steps out swiftly. The mechanism clicks into place and you fall back onto the pillows. You deflate beneath the downy duvet and close your eyes. He confuses you. One moment, he’s all over you, all-consuming and insatiable, the next he’s distant and icy to the touch.

You hug the top of the blanket and cling to his lingering warmth. Your thighs tingle and your core plucks as you clench, thinking of how his fingers delved deep into you. Why couldn’t he stay? You could have done more. You think you’re ready to.

It’s never what you want. You will await his signal and as always, you will take his lead. That is better. His words ring in your head from that fateful day, ‘obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for.’

What do you long for? That question follows you into your subconscious. You sink into the void, the knot of anxiety bound around your chest. Visions of rich greenery and fluttering petals fill your head, birds winging and critters chirping all around. The magical garden is a shrine of rosy sunlight.

Your mind builds a paradise and all at once, it falls around you. Your eyes roll open as you float back to the surface. Your lashes stick together as you blink and groan. It’s early, too early. Dawn paints a violet hue across the room. You lift your head and search around. Something must have woken you but there’s nothing but shadows.

You drop your head back down and groan. You turn onto your side and curl up, tucking a hand under the pillow. You squeeze your eyes shut, reaching for the last dregs of drowsiness. Your head swirls as you feel yourself descending again.

You’re brought back again. This time, you catch the noise. Your ears prick and you lift yourself to look over at the door, a gentle scuffing on the other side.

What’s happening?

You squint, your vision dulled in the lowlight. You sit up and push back the blankets as you sidle to the end of the bed. You see a black spot beneath the doors, darker than the rest of the slatted shadow. It moves. There’s someone out there.

The bed creaks as you bend your legs over the edge. Who could it be? Mr. Laufeyson?

A tap on the wood makes you flinch. The handle wiggles but doesn’t press down. Your heart thumps in your chest. A whisper comes through, “pet…”

Your spine goes rigid. Pet? It must be Mr. Laufeyson, but why doesn’t he just let himself in? You don’t recall locking the door before you went to sleep. You get up and creep forward.

“Pet, let me in,” the whisper is sandy and low. Is it really him? Who else would it be?

You unzip your bag in the dark and pick out a nightgown from the bottom, jostling the rest of the clothes. You slip it over your head and rub your eyes. You shiver as the air is cooled in the darkness.

You near the door and grab the handle so it stills. There’s tension as you twist it. It releases and unlatches easily. The lock is not in place. You pull it open a crack and squeak at the large, looming silhouette on the other side.

“Ah, pet, you’re awake,” Thor rasps.

“What–” you gulp, “what are you doing?”

“You didn’t come say hello,” he drawls, “so, hello, pet.”

You blink at him and push on the door. He slaps his hand against it, the wood shaking between you. You know he’s much strong, you can’t close him out.

“What is the matter?”

“Nothing, I– I’m trying to sleep,” you eke out. If Laufeyson knew…

“You are funny, pet,” he chuckles.

“Please, go, I’ll see you in the morning–”

“But I am here now,” he jerks the door, just a little, just a statement: he can open it if he wants.

“Why?”

“Why?” He huffs, “you haven’t very good manners, pet. My brother has trained you poorly–”

“Please leave me alone,” you beg, jittering. Just the mention of his brother has your heart in your throat. He said to avoid Thor but what do you do when he seeks you out.

‘To the right of your door…’ you pluck the words from your memory and shudder.

“I just want to talk,” he edges the door in another inch and you stumble back.

You spin and run to the wall, pounding on it with your fists. You must seem crazy but you don’t care. You hit it over and over, “Mr. Laufeyson! Mr. Laufeyson!”

You’re wrench back as a large hand frames the back of your neck. Thor turns you and claps his other hand over your mouth, hushing you. You whimper as you shrink in his shadow.

“What are you doing? I’ve only come to talk–”

You wriggle and put both your hands around his wrist. It’s so thick, neither hand can fit all the way around. You kick out as he keeps you pinned to the wall.

“Haven’t I been nice to you?” He growls, “so why do you treat me as a villain, little maid…” he leans in, “perhaps because your thoughts have corrupted me, hm? Naughty little maid.”

His voice lightens playfully as he tilts your head up. You squirm as your hand slides down his forearm. Your other swings out to hit his chest.

“What do you think I’d do? If I am so evil, what could I do?” He taunts as he pulls you from the wall. He drags you towards the bed, “what have you done, eh?” He says as he edges towards the bed, “you’ve already made a mess.”

He throws you back onto the rumpled duvet and you squeak. You push yourself up on your elbows and bring your heels onto the mattress. You push yourself back as he looms over you.

“Aren’t you supposed to take care of messes, little maid?” He bends and puts his hands on the bed, snarling through his teeth. He catches your ankle and pulls your leg straight, tugging you down to your back as you yipe. “Let’s make a mess–”

He grunts and suddenly staggers, releasing you as a dark blur crashes into him. He hits the night table and sends the lamp to the floor. He deflects Mr. Laufeyson as he charges again and they tangle each other up in their arms.

“You beast,” Laufeyson hisses, “get out!”

“Ah, brother, lovely to see you here,” Thor chuckles, “we were only just talking about you–”

“Shut up!” Laufeyson snaps, hooking his leg around his brothers.

“Don’t be so… dramatic,” Thor heaves as they struggle, pulling back and forth as each tries to overturn the other, “I was only getting to know her–”

“Get out!” Laufeyson repeats, “or I will truly be dramatic. Let mother see the cretin you truly are–”

“Speak for yourself–”

“Get!” You throw out your foot and kick Thor’s shoulder, immediately regretting it as he barely reacts. You scurry back and hug your legs.

“Aye, little maid,” Thor sounds amused, “isn’t that cute?”

“Brother, I tell you one last time–”

Thor cracks his elbow into Laufeyson’s ribs. The slimmer man lets go with a wheeze but doesn’t falter long as he slides between the burly blond and the bed. He coughs out another warning, “go.”

“I’m going,” Thor says lightly, “you always were so serious, brother.”

He waves off Laufeyson and steps away, sending you a look through the rising dim. You cower and watch him stalk away. Mr. Laufeyson follows and swiftly shuts him out, turning the lock with a loud click.

You push yourself to the edge of the bed and lower yourself to the floor. You pick up the lamp and straighten the table. You flip the switch and the light radiates around you. You turn to Mr. Laufeyson as he holds his ribs and scowls, slumping back towards you.

“Are you alright?” You ask as you rush towards him, “Mr. Laufeyson…” you reach to touch him but think better of it, retracting your hands to fold your arms over your chest, “I… Thank you.”

He sniffs and sits on the side of the bed. He pushes back his dark hair and winces. You hover before him nervously, shaking like a hummingbird.

“You did well… calling for me,” he says quietly, “that was very good, pet.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I thought it was you knocking. I didn’t mean to–”

“I said, you did well,” he interjects as he outstretches his arms, beckoning you closer. He touches your upper arms and draws you straight, “are you alright?”

You quiver and nod, “I think…”

“Good, good,” He pulls you closer and leans forward to kiss your forehead, “I will sleep here then. Just until the morning comes.”

✨

Mr. Laufeyson leaves as you dress for the day. He bids you to lock the door behind him. He’s been silent but not in his usual way. Pensive but not dour. You put on a poppy red blouse with a brown skirt.

You ready out of habit, your mind still trapped in the night's events. First, Laufeyson and the wonderful way he made you feel. Then Thor and the horror he brought into your room. It almost feels like a bad dream.

You go to the door but don’t emerge. What if Thor is waiting? You shudder as you think of what he would’ve done if you hadn’t called for Mr. Laufeyson. If you hadn’t been heard.

The door shakes as a tap rattles you from your trance, “darling,” Frigga calls through, “are you awake?”

You inhale deeply, throat tight, and unlock the door. You pull it open and force a smile, “yes, I was just… about to come out.”

“Wonderful,” she trills, “we are having tea in the garden.”

“Oh?”

“Come,” she takes your hand, “after tea,” she drags you out as you pull the door closed with your other hand, “we will go into town and get a few things for the celebration. Flowers, as I said. And perhaps a new outfit.”

“Okay,” you agree meekly.

“Did you sleep well?” She asks as you get to the stairs, “you are quiet.”

“Fine,” you answer.

“Yes, I do find it difficult to sleep in new places,” she hums, “well, we only want you to feel at home so do let me know if I can do anything.”

You press your lips together and nod. Could you ask her to make Thor leave you alone? Or to make Mr. Laufeyson a little less stormy? No, but you suppose you could ask for some chamomile before bed.

She takes you through the grand foyer and into the next room, winding around to the elaborate dining room and the back entryway that opens onto an equally awe-inspiring veranda. The railings are wrapped in ivy and flowers, marble pots on plinths hold bunches of gardenia and the big square table at the center has four chairs on either side. Much too big for the meagre party at it.

As you approach, you see Mr. Laufeyson’s shoulders, straight and stiff as he grips the armrests. He glares across at Thor who smiles dopily at the sky. As you get closer, his eyes find you and you wilt down. Frigga draws you onward as Odin stands from the table to offer you the chair beside him.

“There she is,” he says, “come, sit.”

You obey, claiming the seat to his right as Frigga skirts around to take his right. Laufeyson sits along the side just to your own right and leans forward as you wiggle in the chair. He gives you a look and you bow your head slightly.

“What do you like? Milk? Sugar? Honey?” Odin offers as he pours a cup and places it on a saucer before you.

“Just milk,” you answer.

Thor puts his arm on the table as you feel him watching you. Laufeyson clears his throat but his brother doesn’t acknowledge him. You look down at the tea as it clouds with dairy.

“Isn’t this nice?” Thor booms, “I apologise, I was errant yesterday and hadn’t a moment to welcome you.”

You flinch and Laufeyson squeezes the armrest tighter, bristling visibly.

“Now,” Odin sits back, “boys, this is a special week for your mother. She’s working hard, you will not ruin this.”

“Wouldn’t dare think of it,” Thor puffs, “I was only being polite and welcoming the little maid.”

Little maid… the words make you recoil.

“Little maid?” Odin echoes, “don’t be so demeaning. She has a name or perhaps she should call you the big oaf.”

Thor tilts his head and snorts, peering between you and his father. “Forgive me, I thought that’s what she was.”

“Regardless, she is a person and a guest. You will remember your manners,” Odin reproaches.

“Yes, father,” Thor utters dryly and receives a sigh in return.

“Oh, let’s not spoil such a lovely day,” Frigga chimes, “isn’t it so nice to be all together ag–”

“Ugh, must the sun shine so goddamn bright,” the silty voice undergirds Frigga’s chirp. You look over as Hela struts in, a large pair of geometric sunglasses over her eyes, “remind me next time not to finish the bottle.”

“Hel,” Odin greets curtly as Frigga blinks in surprise.

“When did you arrive?” Frigga asks, “Hilde didn’t say.”

“I slept in my car,” Hela answers and struts to the table, sitting next to Laufeyson, “well, I woke up there, at least.”

“Oh my,” Frigga mutters.

“I got here early though,” Hela preens, “when’s that ever happened, mother? And all for Walpurgisnacht, though I guess Midsommar is some time off.”

“Yes, very timely,” Frigga agrees softly, “well, you can come along with us to town. You’ve always had a keen eye.”

“Oh, I may,” Hela smirks, “who is us?”

Frigga looks at you and you give a tiny wave. Hela grins and takes off her sunglasses, winking at you, “I almost didn’t notice the little mouse. Well, I think I shall join you.” She squints and shades her face before putting the glasses back in place, “tell me we have some breakfast wine.”

“Have some tea,” Odin insists, “and a bit of decency.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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theetherealbloom · 3 months ago

Text

THE SILVER LINING - CH. 6

Chapter Six: Show Me Where To Find The Silver Lining

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families needing medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and the bounty hunters. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive!FemReader (Empath)

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths, Awkward, Plot Holes, Flying, Lava, Character Death, Jetpacks, Canon-Typical violence,

Word Count: 11.3k

A/N: I know… I know… I took so long to update this PLS– I went through several revisions for this… idk this episode just gave me insane writers block for some reason??? Like help???

Song: Home by Good Neighbours

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

NEVARRO CANTINA, 9ABY – NOON

You find yourself caught in a tense balance between desperation and determination, surrounded by stormtroopers. Gripping your lightsaber hilt tightly, you stand ready to ignite it at a moment's notice. However, with no backup in sight, the odds of fighting your way out seem insurmountable.

"Is there another way out?" Cara queries Greef Karga, her eyes scanning the perimeter for any possible escape routes.

Greef gestures toward the outside, where stormtroopers are closing in. "No, that's it," he replies grimly.

Din interjects with a suggestion. "What about the sewers?"

Greef Karga's brows knit in confusion. "Sewers?"

"The Mandalorians have a covert down in the sewers. If we can get down there, they can help us escape," Din explains, seeking a potential exit strategy.

"Yeah, sewers are good," Cara agrees, nodding in approval.

You observe as Din manipulates a few buttons on his left armor bracer, causing it to emit a low hum as his visor begins scanning for access points. After a moment, he announces, "Checking for access points."

"What the hell are they waiting for?" Cara mutters, peering outside once more. Through the broken windows, you catch sight of stormtroopers assembling a heavy repeating blaster. Cara's breath catches, "Hold up. They're setting up an E-Web."

"It's over," Greef Karga remarks, a hint of fear evident in his voice.

Din's visor chimes, and he declares, "I found the sewer vent."

"Let's get the hell out of here," Cara urges, moving swiftly. You follow closely behind as she and Din begin tearing apart the furniture, revealing the sewer vent hidden beneath a seat.

The three of you struggle to pry open the sewer vent's panel, emitting frustrated groans as each attempt proves futile.

"It's assembled! How long until that thing's cleared?" Greef Karga's urgency fills the air.

"Blow it," Cara directs Din, her tone commanding.

"I'm out of charges," Din responds, prompting Cara to gesture towards him while she retrieves her heavy blaster. "Get out of the way!" she orders, attempting to blast open the sewer vent without success. Frustration mounts as she hits the unyielding metal gate.

"Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation," the voice from outside remarks ominously. "I would prefer to avoid any further violence and encourage a moment of consideration."

"Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model," the Imperial Officer adds with malice.

"Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin," the Imperial Officer's voice resonates with a tone of menace as he utters Din's name. Din takes a subtle step closer to you, his presence offering a silent reassurance amidst the tension. The officer continues, recounting the horrors of the Siege of Mandalore, where gunships armed with devastating ordnance wreaked havoc upon fields of Mandalorian recruits during the Night of a Thousand Tears.

"Or your Force-sensitive medic who wields a lightsaber," the officer's voice takes on a sinister edge as he delves into your past, revealing the painful truth of your master's abandonment. "Her Master had abandoned her, deeming her too dangerous for her own good. Betrayed by false promises of danger, she was cast aside, left to navigate the galaxy alone, while her Master chose another apprentice." The words cut deep, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you, shame mingling with the ache of betrayal.

You avert your gaze from Din, Cara, and Greef Karga, unable to bear the heaviness of their curious stares. Shame grips your heart, its tendrils clawing at your soul, as the truth of your past is laid bare for all to see.

"I advise disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to heed the wisdom of his years," the officer's voice echoes through the tense silence, urging surrender. "Lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed shortly, and your storied lives will meet an unceremonious end."

"What do you propose?" Greef Karga's voice holds a hint of skepticism as he humors the Imperial Officer.

"Reasonable negotiation," the officer replies, his tone dripping with calculated confidence. Greef scoffs loudly at the notion, prompting him to question, "What assurance do you offer?"

The officer's response is chillingly blunt. "If you're asking if you can trust me, you cannot. Just as you betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand. The assurance I give is this: I will act in my own self-interest, which at this time involves your cooperation and benefit. I will give you until nightfall, and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire." With those words, he turns and departs, leaving behind a tense silence.

You release a small sigh of relief, though you know it won't last long. There's the ominous menace of the E-Web cannon lingering over you, a constant reminder of how vulnerable you are.

"I say we hear him out," Greef Karga suggests, his tone cautious yet open to the possibility. Cara, meanwhile, shakes her head as she gathers blasters from the fallen stormtroopers scattered across the floor. "The minute we open that door, we're dead," she asserts firmly.

"We're dead if we don't. At least out there, we've got a shot," Greef counters, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of advantage.

Cara remains resolute. "That's easy for you to say. I'm a Rebel Shock Trooper. They'll upload me to a Mind Flayer."

Greef dismisses her concern with a hint of skepticism. "Those aren't real. That was just wartime propaganda."

"I don't care to find out. I'm shooting my way out of here," Cara declares, determination etched in her features.

Turning to you and Din, Greef seeks your input. "What about you two, Mando?"

"I know who he is. It's Moff Gideon," Din asserts, his voice carrying a sound of certainty. You furrow your brow in concern at the mention of the name. Cara freezes in disbelief. "No. Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes."

"It's him. He knew my name," Din explains, his expression grave.

"So? What does that prove?" Greef queries, searching for clarity amidst the confusion.

Your frown deepens as unsettling memories resurface. "I haven't heard that name spoken since I was a child," Din reflects, his tone distant as if retracing fragments of his past.

"On Mandalore?" Greef probes, seeking to understand.

"I was not born on Mandalore," Din reveals, his words tinged with a sense of identity and purpose.

"But you're a Mandalorian," Greef counters, puzzled by the revelation.

"Mandalorian isn't a race," you interject, offering clarification. Din echoes your sentiment. "It's a Creed."

You turn to Din, who stands motionless, his emotions noticeable even without words. Through the Force, you sense the silver streaks of his emotions deepening into a darker shade of grey. His sadness is tangible, a heavy burden weighing on his shoulders. Every ounce of anger and resentment he harbors towards the Empire, towards the droids that razed his village, his home, and his family, is laid bare. You feel the pressure of his baggage and brokenness, the scaffolding of his inner strength straining to support his weary frame.

Blinking, you find yourself immersed in his memories, transported to the horrors of Din's past. The air is thick with the acrid scent of blaster fire and the piercing screams of civilians. You witness the onslaught of battle droids affiliated with the Separatist Alliance during the Clone Wars, their relentless assault claiming innocent lives. Amidst the chaos, Din's parents shield him in a small bunker before succumbing to the explosion that engulfs them.

Tears stream down your face as you watch the young Din, his fear palpable as he braces for the end, only to be saved by a Mandalorian Clan.

"I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps," Din's voice breaks through the haze of memories, bringing you back to the present. "I was treated as one of their own. When I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB Officer during the purge. That's how I know it's him. That's how he knows who we all are," Din explains.

Standing there, frozen in place, a myriad of questions race through your mind. How did you manage to delve into Din's memories? Every detail felt so vivid, so real. Tears continue to cascade down your face, overwhelmed by both his emotions and your own.

“Cyar’ika?” Din's voice breaks through the haze, distant yet urgent as your head throbs with pain.

A sob escapes your lips, tears welling in your eyes. "You were just a child,” you manage to choke out in your turmoil.

Din approaches, his hands gentle as they settle on your shoulders. You gasp for breath, hyperventilating as sobs wrack your body. "You were a child, scared and alone," you ramble, the words tumbling out incoherently. "I felt it all—your fear, your anger. It consumed you like wildfire, and—”

Din speaks your name softly, his gloved hand lifting your chin to meet his gaze through the visor. Tear-stained and with puffy eyes, you sob as your eyes meet his. He tenderly wipes away your tears, his touch comforting as you lean into it, placing your hand atop his.

"I'm sorry," you manage to choke out amidst the tears.

"It's not…" Din reassures you gently.

You sniffle, "I'm sorry you were alone. That you had to endure all of that by yourself."

His stomach tightens, a knot forming as he observes your distress. Underneath his helmet, his jaw clenches, a familiar frown settling on his face underneath his helmet. He's realized that he dislikes seeing you cry, feeling powerless to solve the problems that cause your tears.

Pulling you close, he envelops you in his arms as you tremble, offering a gentle shushing sound to soothe you. "It was like you were there in my mind and memories—" he begins, his voice soft.

You sniffle, attempting to regain your composure. "Yeah... I… I’m not sure what that was," you admit, shaking your head. "Never mind. We'll deal with that later. Right now, we should focus on getting out of here."

Din reluctantly releases you and takes a step back, addressing the group. "He says he needs us, which means the child got away safely," he informs them. "I was worried when the Ugnaught didn't respond, but if they'd captured the kid, we'd already be dead."

Cara nods and says to Din, “Hail them again.”

"Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil?" Din's voice echoes into the comlink, but there's no response. He shakes his head in frustration. "Nothing."

"They might have jammed the signal," Cara suggests, retrieving her heavy repeating blaster from across the room. Meanwhile, Greef Karga takes a swig from a blue drink.

Suddenly, the comlink beeps, and the sound of the Child cooing fills the room. Then, the mechanical voice of IG-11 follows. "Kuiil has been terminated."

Din's voice grows stern and accusing as he speaks into the comlink. "What did you do?"

"I am fulfilling my primary function," IG-11 responds calmly.

"And what is that?" Din demands.

"To nurse and protect," IG-11 declares with unwavering resoluteness.

A few moments later, the distant sounds of troopers screaming and blaster fire fill the air. "Look!" Cara exclaims, prompting you to peek out through the window. Outside, you witness IG-11 riding through the streets of the settlement, swiftly taking down stormtroopers with his twin blasters. Even a pair of troopers haggling with a local Jawa are not spared from his onslaught. With precision and speed, IG-11 fights his way through Gideon's troops, throwing a speeder bike at them and causing a massive explosion.

"Cover me," Din commands Cara, who responds by shooting through the broken window, taking out more stormtroopers with her repeating blaster. Chaos unfolds all around you, the cacophony of heavy blaster fire echoing throughout Nevarro.

Following Din out of the cantina's door as it hisses open, you find yourself amid the action. Din swiftly disarms a nearby stormtrooper, taking him down with a precise shot through the helmet. You trail closely behind him, activating your lightsaber. Its purple glow commands attention, causing some stormtroopers to hesitate in shock, which you seize upon.

You and Greef Karga join the fray, swiftly dispatching several death troopers. Despite sustaining a hit to his leg, IG-11 valiantly protects the Child and guides it to safety. Meanwhile, Din skillfully operates the E-web heavy repeater blaster cannon, eliminating multiple stormtroopers with deadly accuracy.

A death trooper detonates an explosive, blowing open the cantina's door. Swarms of death troopers flood in, but Cara skillfully guns them down, buying precious moments.

Your attention is drawn to Moff Gideon cornering the Mandalorian, firing a shot that grazes his shoulder. You cry out, "Din!"

Before you can reach him, Moff Gideon aims at a nearby box of ammunition, setting off a powerful explosion. The blast sends you flying backward, your ears ringing from the force. With a shriek, you scramble to your feet, dodging blaster fire with your lightsaber as you rush to the Mandalorian's side. He lies motionless, wounded and vulnerable.

Cara lends you a hand as you haul Din's injured form into the cantina, seeking refuge. With a determined tone, she reassures him, "Stay with me, buddy. We're getting you out of here."

Together, you carefully lay him down in a safe spot, your heart heavy with worry. "Din, please... Hang on," you plead softly, fighting back tears.

Din lets out a weak whimper, and you clutch his gloved hand tightly, offering what comfort you can. "We'll get you out of here, I promise," you vow, hearing Greef persuade IG-11 to aid in their escape by unsealing the grate.

Despite his pain, Din shifts his helmeted gaze to you, his voice strained as he says, "I won't make it. Go."

Tears blur your vision as you shake your head, refusing to accept the inevitable. "No, you'll be fine. We'll get through this," you sob out, your voice quivering with emotion.

Din's voice is strained as he insists, "Leave me." The warmth of his blood seeps through his helmet as you pull back your trembling hand, stained red. But you refuse to give up, determined to save him.

With shaky hands, you reach for the sides of his helmet. "I need to take your helmet off," you say, your voice heavy with urgency.

Din's grip tightens on your wrists as he protests, "No. Leave me. Keep the child safe, Cyar'ika."

Desperation fills your voice as you try to reason with him, "Din, I—" But he cuts you off, his tone firm and resolute.

"No. I don't… want this to be how you see me for the first time," he murmurs, his words strained with pain.

You don't care about appearances; all you want is to keep him alive. "I don't care. I just need you," you plead, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Din reaches for his mythosaur necklace and hands it to you. "Take this," he says weakly. "Show it to the Mandalorian covert. Tell them it's from Din Djarin. You and the foundling were under my protection. They'll help you."

"We can make it. We have to make it… you can't leave me too… please… Din… Let me heal you," you sobbed out, your voice choked with emotion as you held onto him, your frame trembling.

Suddenly, a red-striped incinerator trooper, armed with a flamethrower, approaches the cantina, setting the furniture ablaze through the broken window. With determination, you throw yourself atop Din, shielding him from the flames, before turning back to look at him.

"Oh, Ner cyar'ika," Din murmurs, cupping your face with his gloved hand. You lean into his touch, seeking comfort in his presence.

"I'm not gonna make it, and you know it," Din admits, his voice heavy with resignation. "You protect the child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior's death."

The finality of his words sends a pang of sorrow through you. "I won't leave you," you protest, your voice wavering.

"This is the Way," Din asserts, his gaze steady behind his visor. You meet his eyes, unable to find the right words to express your emotions. Pressing your forehead against his beskar helmet, you hold onto his gloved hand, which caresses the side of your cheek.

You kiss the small patch of exposed skin on his wrist, feeling the gravity of the moment. Din takes a shaky breath before saying, "Ner cyar'ika, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum."

Before you could even ask what he was saying, the incinerator trooper strides into the cantina, but the Child reacts swiftly, harnessing the Force to deflect the flames back at the trooper, forcing him to retreat. You witness the surge of power emanating from the Child, and instinctively extend your own hand, aiding in redirecting the flames away from your group.

As the trooper is driven back, the Child's tiny form slumps in exhaustion, overwhelmed by the effort. Just then, IG-11 kicks open the grate, signaling an opportunity for escape as the flames around you is all consuming and melting.

“Come on! It's open, let's go!” Greef Karga's urgent voice echoes through the chaos.

“Go. Cy’are, go,” Din insists, his tone heavy with resolve.

“We have to move! Now!” Greef Karga urges, as IG-11 helps clear the way, lifting the Child with care.

You remain rooted in place, torn between staying with Din and fleeing to safety. The metallic footsteps of IG-11 approach, and the droid's voice breaks through the turmoil. “Escape and protect this child. I will stay with the Mandalorian,” it declares, passing the sleeping Child into your arms.

Meeting the droid's gaze, you plead, “Promise me you'll bring him. Please.”

“You have my word,” IG-11 assures you, and you exchange a final glance with Din. With a heavy heart, you press your forehead to his helmet and whisper, “I need you. Maker, I want you, please… come back to me.”

Before he can respond, Cara pulls you away, guiding you into the tunnels below alongside Greef Karga, the force of uncertainty settling heavily upon you.

Din's mind drifts, overwhelmed by the scorching heat and his own exhaustion. In his haze, he sees IG-11 approaching, a stark reminder of his past and the deep-rooted trauma it carries. Through the chaos, thoughts of you, his beloved Cyar'ika, provide a fleeting sense of solace. Objects tumble in the inferno's blaze, a testament to the chaos engulfing them.

“Do it,” Din gruffly commands, his head throbbing from the impact, blood trickling down his neck.

“Do what?” IG-11 inquires, its mechanical voice cutting through the loud burning flames surrounding them.

“Just get it over with. I'd rather you kill me than some Imp,” Din asserts, his words tinged with bitter honesty. Once, he would have faced this without hesitation. But you changed everything, and now his only regret is not kissing you, not feeling the warmth of your lips against his.

“I told you. I am no longer a hunter. I am a nurse droid,” IG-11 states.

“IGs are all hunters,” Din grumbles, his frustration evident.

The droid pauses before responding, “Not this one. I was reprogrammed. I need to remove your helmet if I am to save you.”

Din's grip tightens on his blaster, his voice dripping with threat, “Try it and I'll end you.” He struggles to breathe, teeth clenched, “It is forbidden. No living thing has seen me without my helmet since I swore the Creed.”

"I am not a living thing," IG-11 states plainly, the truth evident in his words.

With a hiss and a click, the mechanical hands of the IG-11 droid lift Din's helmet. His heart beats heavily in his chest as he awaits what comes next.

"This is a bacta spray. It will heal you in a matter of hours," IG-11 explains as it sprays the upper part of Din's head. "You have suffered damage to your central processing unit."

"You mean my brain?" Din quips.

IG-11 tilts its head. "That was a joke. It is meant to put you at ease."

Din stifles a chuckle. In that moment, he realizes he still has hope. Despite his weariness and desire to depart, he closes his eyes briefly, thinking of you. The thought of needing you pushes him forward. Determined, he knows no grave can hold his body down; he'll find a way back to you, whatever it takes.

There is so much love in your body that you can't hold it in; it pours from your eyes and spills from your skin. As you cradle the Child closer to your chest, muffled explosions echo from above.

An ache settles between your ribs—a yearning for a different destiny and the resilience to keep hoping for a better outcome. You cling to the hope that Din will be alright.

A louder explosion echoes through the tunnels, causing you, Greef Karga, and Cara Dune to spin around. Cara’s flashlight cuts through the darkness, revealing the source of the noise. The heavy footsteps draw closer, and soon, you spot IG-11’s silhouette—along with the glimmer of silver beskar you’ve come to cherish so deeply.

Without thinking, you rush forward, your heart pounding as you reach Din. He’s still unsteady, clearly feeling the effects of his concussion, but he’s alive. Relief floods your chest as you pass the Child to IG-11, and you throw your arms around Din’s neck, tears streaming down your face.

“Oh, thank the Maker,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

His arms wrap around your waist, his leather gloves squeezing you tightly as if grounding himself in your presence. You slide one arm over your shoulder, determined to help him walk.

“I got you,” you murmur, holding him close as you guide him through the dimly lit tunnels.

As you continue down the darkened tunnels, Din leans heavily against you, each step a struggle against the pain that wracks his body. Greef Karga glances around, uncertainty evident in his voice as he asks, "Do you know which way to go?"

Din grunts in response, his voice strained. "No. I don't know these tunnels. I've only entered from the bazaar." His words are clipped, every syllable laced with discomfort.

Greef Karga presses on, trying to find a solution. "Well, if we get the smell of sulfur and follow it, it'll lead us up to the plains where the river flows."

Din's voice cuts through the dark, gruff and insistent. "And the Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety."

Your group presses on, delving deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels with each step. The air grows thicker, and the walls seem to close in as the tension between you mounts.

"Ugh, this place is a maze," Cara groans, her voice filled with frustration as she surveys the endless twists and turns.

"Stop. I can stand," Din says, his voice firm despite the strain. He removes his arm from your shoulder, and you give him a hopeful look, noticing the determination in his voice. IG-11 assesses his condition and confirms, "The bacta infusion is working."

Din nods, his determination solidifying. "I'll try to find tracks." He moves forward, the beam of light from his helmet cutting through the darkness. His gaze is focused, scanning the ground carefully. Then, he spots something and points to the left, leading the group as he says, "We're close. Turn here."

The group follows Din's lead, the tunnel narrowing as the beam of light from the flashlights dances across the walls. As you round the corner, a chilling dread settles deep in your bones. The covert lies ahead, but instead of the safety you hoped for, you’re greeted by a harrowing sight—helmets and armor, scattered and lifeless, marking the final resting place of countless fallen Mandalorians.

Din’s steps falter as he enters the covert, his helmet’s light switching off with a click. The darkness seems heavier here, pressing in on him from all sides. Slowly, warily, he moves forward, his exhaustion evident in every sluggish step. Kneeling beside the fallen, his head bows in silent mourning.

He reaches out, picking up one of the broken helmets, its once-proud beskar now marred and empty. You see it in waves of dark grey and sharp silver, a storm of anger and grief brews within him, coiling tightly in his stomach, a heavy silence hanging in the air around him.

You kneel beside him, your presence a tentative but necessary comfort. Din grasps your hand, holding on as if it’s the only thing keeping him from being swallowed by the void. His fingers tighten around yours, the touch grounding him, allowing him to feel something—anything—beyond the pain and loss.

Cara steps forward, her voice calm but insistent. "We should go."

Din's response is immediate, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with grief and fury. "You go. Take the ship. I can't leave it this way." His head snaps to the side, anger flaring as he locks eyes with Greef Karga through his vizor. "Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?"

Greef Karga scoffs, shaking his head. "No. When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended, and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is. They're mercenaries. They're not zealots."

Din grinds his teeth, his jaw clenched tight. The emotions rolling off him are palpable, a storm barely contained. He pulls away from you, the warmth of his touch replaced by the cold fury radiating from him as he steps forward, shoving a finger into Greef Karga’s chest. "Did you do this? Did you?"

Before Greef can respond, a new voice cuts through the tension, calm and authoritative. "No. It was not his fault."

All of you turn toward the source of the voice, a female Mandalorian stepping out from the shadows. She is clad in red armor, her gold helmet adorned with a series of horns that curve across the top. This must be the Armorer, the one who forged Din's beskar. The way she carries herself, with quiet strength and wisdom, leaves no doubt.

You rise to your feet, your eyes widening as you sense a powerful aura emanating from her, a blend of gold and red. Through the Force, you glimpse her true nature—patient, wise, and unwaveringly strong.

The Armorer surveys the fallen armor strewn across the covert, her voice measured and steady. "We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the covert. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted." She lifts a piece of beskar armor from the pile, her tone resigned, as though she is stating a simple fact.

Din’s voice is strained as he asks, "Did any survive?"

The Armorer places the piece of armor onto a cart already laden with salvaged beskar. "I hope so. Some may have escaped off-world."

"Come with us," Din urges, but the Armorer shakes her head, picking up another helmet and adding it to her cart.

"No. I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains," she replies firmly, her choice unshakable.

You watch as she begins to push the hovering cart away, and without hesitation, Din follows her, leaving the rest of you to trail behind. The path leads you to the heart of the covert—the Armorer's forge, a place of deep significance. The air here is thick with the importance of history and tradition, the forge itself a symbol of the Mandalorians' resilience and strength.

You take in your surroundings, noting the tools neatly arranged, the forge at the center, glowing faintly with embers, the table where beskar is shaped and molded, and the computer panel displaying holographic schematics of Mandalorian armor. Every detail speaks of the care and precision that goes into crafting the armor that defines a Mandalorian, a testament to their way of life.

The cryo-furnace burns brightly in the center of the forge, casting flickering shadows across the room. You watch as the Armorer, with practiced precision, uses a pair of magnetic tongs to lift a beskar chest plate. The metal sizzles and hisses as she dips it into the molten pool of the furnace, transforming solid beskar into liquid. Her voice is calm, yet it carries the tone of command. “Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.”

IG-11 steps forward, the Child sitting quietly in the brown backpack strapped to the droid’s chest. Din speaks, his voice steady, though tinged with reverence. “This is the one.”

The Armorer steps closer, her gaze fixed on the small creature. “This is the one that you hunted, then saved?”

Din nods, his response curt but sincere. “Yes. The one that saved me as well.”

The Armorer tilts her helmet slightly as she continues, “From the mudhorn?”

“Yes,” Din confirms, his voice clipped as he remembers the near-fatal encounter.

“It looks helpless,” she observes, her tone more curious than judgmental.

The Child coos softly in response, its large ears folding back as if understanding the conversation. Din shifts slightly, protective instincts kicking in as he explains, “It's injured, but it is not helpless. Its species can move objects with its mind.”

The Armorer nods thoughtfully, her tone reverent as she recalls ancient lore. “I know of such things. The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi, who wielded such powers.”

You stiffen at the mention of the Jedi, memories of old texts and scrolls you once studied flashing through your mind. Din instinctively steps forward, positioning himself slightly in front of you, a subtle yet protective gesture. You can't help but ask, your voice shaky with uncertainty, “Is it an enemy?”

The Armorer regards the Child, then turns her attention to you, her gaze thoughtful beneath the gold helmet. “No. Its kind were enemies, but this individual is not.” She pauses, her head tilting slightly as she studies you with a depth that makes your heart race. “Including her.”

“I… How…” you stammer, the words tangled in your throat as you struggle to comprehend her meaning.

The Armorer’s voice is patient, her words measured. “You are different. The Force flows through you as well, though not as it does through the Child. But you are not our enemy.”

Din glances at you, his expression unreadable behind his helmet, but you can feel his concern and confusion. The importance of this information is nearly too much for you to take, even while you strain to find your words. Even while you know that everything has shifted in this instant, the armorer carries on with her task, undisturbed, as if she has spoken nothing unusual.

Din watches as the Armorer opens a cabinet, her movements precise and deliberate. The flickering light from the cryo-furnace casts long shadows on the walls, the heat radiating from the molten beskar filling the room. "What is it?" Din asks, his voice low and gravelly, filled with the sudden push of responsibility he’s not yet ready to accept.

The Armorer doesn’t look up from her work as she replies, her tone measured and authoritative. "It is a foundling. By Creed, it is in your care."

The Child, nestled safely in the brown backpack, gurgles softly, its wide eyes shifting between you and Din, as if sensing the gravity of the moment.

Din glances down at the Child, confusion and uncertainty lacing his words as he gestures towards the small creature. "You wish me to train this thing?"

The Armorer continues her work, her focus unbroken as she dips the simmering ladle with the liquid beskar, pouring it with precision onto her workbench. "It is too weak," she states plainly. "It would die. You have no choice. You must reunite it with its own kind."

Din’s jaw clenches beneath his helmet, his mind racing with the implications of her words. You stand beside him, feeling the sudden new responsibility settle over both of you. The Child stares up at you both with innocent eyes, unaware of the storm brewing within the Mandalorian’s heart.

"Where?" Din asks, his voice strained with the weariness of the unknown.

The Armorer hums thoughtfully, her focus never wavering from her task. "This, you must determine."

Din feels frustration bubbling up inside him. He gestures helplessly at the Child. "You expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?" His words rush out, sharp and biting, and you can’t help but wince, though you know the remark wasn’t directed at you.

The Armorer remains unfazed, her hammer striking the beskar with rhythmic precision. "This is the Way," she remarks, her tone calm and resolute, as if the creed alone should be enough to calm his doubts.

Din’s eyes soften under his helmet, realizing the harshness of his words. He turns to you, taking your hand gently in his. "I apologize, Cy’are," he mumbles, his voice laden with regret.

You offer him a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand lightly. "I know," you reply softly, understanding his distress. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

The Armorer, ever observant, takes note of your interaction as she continues her work. The clang of metal against metal fills the silence until Cara speaks up, her tone practical and urgent. "Hey. These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan."

The Armorer pauses her hammering, then turns slightly toward the group. "If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats."

Greef Karga looks to Din, concern creasing his brow. "I think we should go," he suggests, the tension evident in his voice.

Din, however, remains resolute. "I'm staying. I need to help her, and I need to heal," he replies firmly, his gaze locking with yours.

You meet his determination with your own. "I’m not leaving you," you state with unwavering conviction.

The Armorer picks up her magnetic tongs and a circular pan, her voice steady as she addresses you both. "You must go. Your Riduur and the foundling are in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father."

The Child coos softly, sensing the affection and bond between you, Din, and itself. The Armorer, acknowledging this bond, turns to Din with a quiet reverence. "This is the Way."

The Armorer steps forward with quiet precision, affixing a signet to Din's pauldron. The emblem gleams in the dim light of the forge, its magnitude both physical and symbolic as it signifies the new identity bestowed upon him. She pauses for a moment, allowing the significance to settle in before she speaks, her voice steady and authoritative.

"You have earned your Signet. For now… you are a clan of two," she declares, her tone interim, as though the value of the galaxy itself rests on this moment.

The words barely register in your mind, their meaning lost as you stand beside Din. Your gaze is fixed on him, watching the way his posture straightens slightly, the way his head dips just a fraction in acknowledgment.

"Thank you," Din says, his voice rough with emotion but steady. "I will wear this with honor."

The forge's flames flicker, casting warm, wavering light on the scene, as Din steps back, the signet glinting on his pauldron—a mark of pride, responsibility, and the bond that ties the two of you together in this perilous galaxy.

The rumble of muffled explosions grows louder, each one sending vibrations through the walls of the covert. Instinctively, your group turns toward the source of the sound, tension tightening in your chest. Greef Karga’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp with urgency. “We should go,” he insists, his eyes darting between the shadows of the tunnel.

The Armorer, however, remains unflinching. She turns to IG-11 and then to you, her voice calm but commanding. “IG and the Jedi,” she begins, and before you can correct her misunderstanding, she continues, “please guard the outer hallway. A scouting party draws near.”

Without hesitation, the IG unit steps forward. It moves to Cara, gently handing the Child over to her. The soldier, caught off guard, stammers, “Hang on. I don't do the baby thing.”

The Child coos softly, and you exchange a quick, knowing glance with Cara, a slight shrug of your shoulders conveying that there’s little choice in the matter. Without another word, you follow the IG unit as it strides purposefully towards the outer hallway. The air grows colder, and the sound of your footsteps echoes against the narrow walls as you leave the others behind.

Just before you’re out of earshot, you hear the Armorer's voice, calm and steady as ever. “I have a few more gifts for your journey. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

Din looks down at the gleaming silver beskar Z-6 Jetpack in his hands, his breath catching slightly in his throat. “When I was a boy,” he says, his voice thick with the load of memories. “Yes.”

The Armorer’s voice is calm, almost reverent as she holds the jetpack. “Then this will make you complete,” she declares, a solemnity in her tone that acknowledges the significance of the moment.

Din’s voice wavers as he accepts the gift. “Thank you.”

She steps behind him, carefully attaching the Z-6 Jetpack to his back, her movements precise and steady. “When you have healed,” she instructs, “you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”

Din feels the weight of the jetpack settle onto his shoulders, its presence both reassuring and daunting. He nods, his determination hardening, his voice steady as he replies, "I understand." The words are a quiet promise, a vow to honor the gift he has been given.

The Armorer pauses for a moment, her gaze steady on him. "One other thing," she begins, her tone shifting slightly, "your Riduur… I assume you’re courting her."

The question hits Din like a bolt, and he feels a flush rise beneath his helmet, heat spreading across his skin. He’s never been one for public confrontations, especially not about something so deeply personal. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken emotions, as he struggles for a response.

But the Armorer doesn’t need words to understand. She reads the tension in his posture, the hesitation in his voice, and she nods, accepting his silence as confirmation. Without another word, she turns to her cabinet, her movements measured and precise. From within, she retrieves a smaller version of the Mudhorn signet, its surface polished to a gleaming finish. She hands it to him with the same solemnity that she had with the jetpack.

"You are aware of the customs?" she asks, her voice carrying the value of tradition.

Din takes the signet, its cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth flooding his chest. He slips it into his pocket, the significance of the gesture not lost on him.

"Yes," he replies, his voice firm, yet laced with an undercurrent of emotion he rarely lets slip.

The Armorer inclines her head, satisfied with his answer. "This is the Way," she intones, her words both a reminder and a benediction.

Din nods, the phrase echoing in his mind. "This is the Way," he repeats, the words a binding promise, not just to himself, but to you as well.

Meanwhile, in the outer hallway, you and the IG-11 unit stand alert. The sound of approaching stormtroopers reverberates through the tunnels, a familiar and unwelcome echo. Your hand instinctively reaches for the hilt of your lightsaber, and with a flick, it ignites, casting a purple glow across the darkened corridor. The Force flows through you, heightening your senses as you prepare for the oncoming assault.

Blaster fire erupts, red bolts streaking toward you, but you remain calm, centered. Your lightsaber hums as you deflect each shot with precision, the bolts ricocheting back at the stormtroopers, sending them sprawling—some injured, others unconscious.

Beside you, IG-11 methodically takes down those that remain standing. The droid’s movements are efficient, calculated. As the last of the stormtroopers fall, you and IG-11 exchange a glance. The droid peers around the corner, scanning for further threats, then turns to you and states matter-of-factly, “You are protected.”

"More will come. You must go," the Armorer states with quiet authority as you and IG-11 reenter the forge. The heat from the cryo-furnace pulses through the room, a stark contrast to the cold dread gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

Din turns to her, his voice firm with concern. “Come with us.”

The Armorer shakes her head with a firm tenacity. “My place is here. Restock your munitions,” she instructs, her voice steady as she gestures toward the scattered supplies.

She turns to the IG unit, handing Din’s newly earned jetpack into its mechanical grasp. “IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.”

The droid nods in silent compliance, securing the jetpack carefully within its arms. Din methodically restocks his ammunition, his focus sharp despite the tension humming through the air.

“Now, go. Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey,” the Armorer commands, her voice carrying the weight of finality.

Din takes your hand in his, the leather of his glove warm against your skin. There’s a moment of unspoken understanding between you, the bond you share more palpable than ever in the face of the unknown. He turns to the tunnels, not dropping your hand, and with a quiet nod to the Armorer, he says, “Thank you.”

The two of you head into the darkness, leaving the forge and its fierce protector behind, every step forward a testament to the resilience that binds you.

You emerge from one of the tunnels and are immediately greeted by the sight of a large, bubbling river of hot lava, its fiery surface sending waves of heat toward you. The glow casts an eerie, red light on everyone’s faces, highlighting the tension in the air.

“This is the lava river,” Greef Karga announces, his voice filled with a mix of awe and urgency.

You and Din move closer to the boat docked on the riverbank, its hull crewed by a battered and seemingly inoperative ferry droid. Din assesses the damage, his gaze narrowing as he comments, “The ferry droid is fried.”

Greef Karga steps forward, his practical mind already formulating a plan. “Yeah, but if we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream. Come on,” he says, placing his hands on the boat’s edge and beginning to shove.

Din continues his inspection of the boat, noticing its age and the wear that time has inflicted. “Looks old. Will it take the heat?” he asks, skepticism lacing his tone.

“You got a better idea?” Greef Karga shoots back, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

Din shrugs, resigning himself to the situation. “Guess not.”

With a shared grunt of effort, the two men push against the boat, muscles straining as they try to dislodge it from the platform. But the boat stubbornly remains stuck, the dried lava around it acting as an anchor. Frustration mounts as Din groans and gives the boat a frustrated kick, before grabbing a metal paddle to try and pry it free—still to no avail.

Cara Dune watches their struggle with a growing sense of impatience, finally rolling her eyes before stepping forward. “You guys mind getting out of the way?” she says, her tone dripping with exasperation.

Din and Greef Karga step aside as Cara levels her blaster at the boat. With a few well-aimed shots, she blasts away the dried lava, freeing the boat from its fiery mooring.

“Oh! Good job,” Greef Karga praises, a hint of relief in his voice as the boat begins to shift and move.

Without hesitation, the group clambers aboard the small ferry, the heat of the molten lava almost unbearable as IG-11 issues a warning, “Watch your feet. It's molten lava.”

“No kidding,” Cara mutters, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she settles into the boat.

A tense silence falls over the group, broken only by the sudden electrical humming coming from the droid. Instinctively, Din, Cara, and Greef Karga draw their blasters, aiming them at the ferry droid as it begins to come to life. You stand back, watching as the droid chirps at you, its mechanical sounds echoing in the small space.

Din breaks the silence, his voice wary. “I don't suppose anybody here speaks droid?”

IG-11 steps in, his tone calm as he translates, “I believe he is asking where we would like to go.”

Greef Karga, still eyeing the droid with skepticism, eventually responds, “Downriver. To the lava flat.”

The ferry droid chirps rhythmically, as if in agreement, and with a mechanical whir, it begins to row the boat down the river. Your group holsters their blasters as the ferry glides smoothly over the molten surface, the droid content to fulfill its purpose, and the group can’t help but share a moment of quiet relief as they continue their journey downstream.

You quietly move next to Din, the tension in the air thick enough to feel, but neither of you speaks. Your eyes are fixed on the faint light at the end of the tunnel, the only sign of hope in this dark, foreboding place. You can feel the weight of everything that has happened pressing down on you, yet you hold on to the flicker of hope that you’ll find a way out of this.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glance at Din. The Force gently tugs at your senses, and you’re drawn to the swirl of emotions radiating from him in a kaleidoscope of colors. Where once there were dark, muted grays of pain and uncertainty, you now see lighter tones beginning to emerge, a sign that he’s slowly regaining his center after the injury that had shaken him so deeply.

Din turns his head to look at you, and you meet his gaze, staring back at him through the dark visor of his helmet. Though his face is hidden, you’ve always had a way of seeing through that thick, impenetrable black visor, straight to the heart of the man underneath. It’s a connection that runs deeper than words, a silent understanding that passes between you.

A shiver runs up Din’s spine, the feeling of being so deeply understood and seen by you, even through the beskar, is both grounding and unsettling in its intimacy. He’s never quite sure how you do it, how you manage to see him so clearly despite the layers of armor he wears.

Neither of you speaks, the silence stretching on as the moment lingers between you. Eventually, you’re the first to break the gaze, taking a small step closer to him. You rest your head gently on his shoulder, the cool metal of his beskar pauldron pressing against your forehead. It’s a simple gesture, but one filled with a depth of comfort and connection that words could never convey.

Maker. The thought flickers through Din’s mind, almost as a prayer. He wonders what he ever did to deserve you, to be within your orbit. He’s lived his life in the shadows, never expecting to find someone who could see him so completely. And yet, here you are. He holds out a silent prayer to the universe, hoping for the strength to keep you with him, to protect you, to not let this fragile connection slip through his fingers.

The light at the end of the tunnel grows closer, but for now, you both find solace in this small, shared moment.

As the droid methodically rows the hoverboat down the molten lava river, the rhythmic sound of metal scraping against stone echoes softly through the tunnel. The eerie glow of the lava illuminates the cavernous space, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Occasionally, small, skittish mammals dart along the riverbanks, their eyes glowing in the dim light before they disappear into the darkness.

The boat glides steadily toward the mouth of the tunnel, where a faint light shines like a beacon of hope. The group remains tense, but as you approach the entrance, Greef Karga’s voice breaks through the tension with a burst of optimism. He points eagerly at the light, his voice filled with relief. “That’s it! We’re free!”

But Din doesn’t share Karga’s optimism. His instincts prickling, he taps a button on the side of his helmet, switching to thermal imaging. The world around him shifts into shades of red and blue, revealing what the naked eye cannot see.

“No,” Din’s voice cuts through the brief moment of hope, a grim tone to his words. “No, we’re not.” His gaze remains fixed on the entrance, his thermal vision picking up the heat signatures of countless figures lying in wait. “Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel.”

You glance at Din, the unease in his voice sending a chill down your spine. He continues, his voice a low, measured tone as he counts the figures. “It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we’re coming.”

The tension in the air thickens as the boat continues to drift closer to the tunnel’s exit, the light growing brighter but more ominous with every passing second.

“Stop the boat,” Cara orders sharply, turning toward the ferry droid. “Hey, Droid, I said stop the boat.”

The droid only responds with a series of unintelligible chirps, its programming unable to process the urgency in her voice. Frustration tightens Cara’s expression, and without hesitation, she unholsters her blaster, her voice rising with authority. “Hey! I'm talking to you. I said stop!”

A single shot rings out, and the droid’s head is blasted clean off, leaving it a lifeless hunk of metal. The boat continues to drift forward, unaffected by the loss of its pilot. The Child whimpers at the sudden noise, and Cara immediately softens, trying to soothe him with a gentle, “Shh, it’s okay.”

Greef Karga eyes the boat as it glides along the river, still propelled by the momentum it had before the droid was destroyed. “We’re still moving,” he notes grimly.

Cara scans the tunnel ahead, her face hardening as she realizes there’s no stopping now. “Looks like we fight,” she declares, steeling herself for the confrontation.

But Din shakes his head, his voice low and steady. “There are too many.”

Cara’s eyes flash with defiance as she snaps back, “Then what do you suggest? 'Cause I can't surrender.”

Before anyone else can speak, IG-11 interjects, its voice calm and resolute. “They will not be satisfied with anything less than the Child. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape.”

Din scoffs, unable to hide his skepticism. “You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn’t even get to daylight.”

But IG-11’s response is cold and matter-of-fact. “That is not my objective.”

A heavy silence follows as everyone processes the meaning behind the droid’s words. Din’s jaw clenches beneath his helmet, understanding dawning painfully in his mind.

Cara quickly hands you the Child, her eyes flicking to the tunnel ahead. “We’re getting close. Saddle up,” she says, her tone brisk and focused as she readies her blaster, preparing for the inevitable fight.

The tension is palpable as IG-11’s voice cuts through the air with a calm finality. “I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”

Din takes a step forward, disbelief and frustration tightening his voice. “What are you talking about?”

The droid remains composed, its mechanical tone unyielding. “I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.”

Greef Karga’s voice slices through the conversation, sharp and urgent. “Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?”

Ignoring the interruption, IG-11 turns and hands the jetpack to Din. “I can no longer carry this for you. Nor can I watch over the Child.”

Din’s emotions churn beneath his helmet, a mixture of confusion and reluctant attachment rising to the surface. For someone who’s always hated droids for what they did to his planet, this particular one has proven itself different. The words tumble out, almost desperate. “Wait. You can’t self-destruct. Your base command is to protect the Child.”

Din’s voice softens, a note of pleading seeping in. “That supersedes your manufacturer’s protocol, right? Right?”

There’s a brief pause, as if the droid is processing his question. “This is correct.”

Relief flickers across Din’s features, even if hidden beneath the beskar. “Good. Now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.”

But IG-11 remains resolute, its next words heavy with certainty. “Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The Child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the Child is saved, in which I survive.”

Din’s frustration mounts, his mind racing for another solution, any solution. “Listen, you’re not going anywhere. We need you. Let’s just… come up with a—”

But the droid cuts him off, its tone firm yet gentle. “Please tell me the Child will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”

Din looks up at the droid, his voice low, almost anguished. “But you’ll be destroyed.”

IG-11 responds without hesitation. “And you will live, and I will have served my purpose.”

“No. We need you,” Din insists, his voice growing tighter, a rare crack in his stoic exterior. The droid’s next words hit him harder than any blaster shot. “There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive.”

Din, ever defensive, tries to mask his emotions. “I’m not sad.”

But the droid sees through him, as it was programmed to do. “Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.”

You watch the exchange, your heart heavy with the truth of what’s about to happen. Tears well up in your eyes, the reality sinking in that this droid, one that had grown to mean something to you all, is about to sacrifice itself. It’s a loss none of you are truly ready for, but deep down, you know it’s the only way.

The Child coos softly in your arms, its large eyes full of trust as it peers up at you. IG-11 pauses, glancing at the small creature, and then gently pats its ears in a gesture that almost feels… affectionate. A farewell, perhaps. You feel the sting of sorrow as the droid steps away, its purpose clear.

Without another word, IG-11 hops off the boat and into the bubbling lava, the searing heat beginning to eat away at its metal frame. Greef Karga’s voice breaks the silence, tinged with confusion and a hint of alarm. “IG? What are you doing?”

The droid doesn’t respond, just continues its slow, deliberate march through the molten river, its body gradually melting, limbs faltering as it nears the mouth of the tunnel. Beyond, the light filters through, revealing the stormtroopers waiting, their blasters raised, ready to fire. But they hesitate, unsure of the droid’s intent.

Reaching the river’s end, IG-11 speaks, its voice unwavering, almost serene. “Manufacturer’s protocol dictates I cannot be captured.”

The sound of a pulse begins, low and rhythmic, a countdown to the inevitable. “I must be destroyed,” IG-11 states, its words a final goodbye.

And then, with a blinding flash, the droid detonates, the explosion erupting like a fiery inferno. The stormtroopers don’t even have time to react before they’re consumed by the blast. Their screams echo briefly before being snuffed out, leaving only silence in its wake. The fiery eruption floods the tunnel’s entrance, scattering debris and molten rock, neutralizing the entire platoon in an instant.

As the dust and flames settle, the path ahead clears. The way to the plains is open, and for a moment, all is still. The sacrifice of IG-11 rings heavy in the air, its selflessness ensuring the Child’s safety, and allowing you, Din, and the others to move forward—alive, but forever changed.

You finally emerge from the tunnels, the cool air of the open plains a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat of the lava river. For a fleeting moment, there's a sense of relief—until you hear the ominous roar of an engine in the distance. Your gaze snaps upward, just as Cara shouts, “Moff Gideon!”

Above, the silhouette of the Outland TIE fighter cuts across the sky, its distinct scream echoing through the air. Gideon’s fighter dives down, strafing your group with blaster fire. Instinctively, you ignite your lightsaber, the purple blade humming to life as you deflect the incoming shots, sending them harmlessly into the dirt. Din, Cara, and Greef Karga return fire with their blasters, but the bolts ricochet off the TIE fighter’s armored hull, doing little to slow its assault.

As the TIE fighter pulls up for another pass, Greef Karga shouts, “He missed!”

Din doesn’t look away from the sky, his voice grim. “He won't next time.”

Cara lowers her blaster, frustration etched on her face. “Our blasters are useless against him.”

Greef Karga, desperation creeping into his tone, glances at the Child in your arms. “Let's make the baby do the magic hand thing!” He turns to the Child, wiggling his fingers as if trying to coax a response. “Come on, baby! Do the magic hand thing!”

The Child stares up at him with wide, innocent eyes, cooing softly, clearly not understanding what Greef Karga is asking. The moment hangs in the air, the absurdity of the situation clashing with the deadly reality of the threat above.

Greef Karga sighs, “I'm out of ideas.”

Din's chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath, his thoughts racing for a solution. There isn’t much time—Gideon’s TIE fighter is already banking around, preparing for another attack run. The fighter’s engines scream through the air as it turns, ready to strike.

“I’m not,” Din mutters, almost to himself, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His voice is quiet but filled with purposefulness.

“Here he comes!” Cara shouts, urgency clear in her voice.

Without another word, Din moves with purpose, strapping the jetpack firmly onto his back. You can see the determination in his movements, each one precise, no hesitation. He checks the pack one last time, then ignites it, the blue flames roaring to life with a sharp hiss. The blast from the jetpack propels him skyward, and you watch as he rockets toward the incoming TIE fighter, becoming a streak of silver against the dusky sky.

The TIE fighter roars closer, and in a daring move, Din launches his grappling cable, the wire streaking through the air with a sharp whizz. The hook latches onto the wing of the TIE, yanking Din with it as it surges forward.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him hold tight to the cable, the wind whipping around him, the ground a blur beneath. The TIE fighter dips and rolls, trying to shake him loose, but Din’s grip is ironclad. With each twist and turn, he inches closer to the cockpit, his movements precise, driven by sheer will.

Unable to force his way into the cockpit with his blaster, Din quickly tries to plant a detonator on the hull of the TIE fighter. But Moff Gideon sees the attempt and executes a sharp maneuver, causing the detonator to slip from its intended position and tumble away. Din barely manages to keep his grip as the ship veers wildly, but he’s not done yet. He moves with quick precision, planting a second detonator on the left wing joint.

You watch from below, heart pounding, as Din releases his hold on the fighter. For a moment, he’s just a speck in the sky, free-falling as the detonator flashes red. Then, with a brilliant explosion, the TIE’s wing disintegrates, sending the ship spiraling out of control. The wreckage hurtles toward the ground, crashing in a fiery plume on the plains beyond.

Din activates his jetpack just in time, the blue thrusters flaring as he regains control of his descent. He lands hard, stumbling slightly as he adjusts to the new weight on his back. But he’s safe, standing tall, smoke rising in the distance where Gideon’s ship went down.

You disengage your lightsaber, the purple blade retracting with a sharp hiss, and holster it at your side. As you pass the Child to Cara, she cradles him protectively, her expression softening for a brief moment before returning to her usual stout-heartedness.

Without hesitation, you sprint toward Din, your heart racing with relief and something deeper. He sees you coming and barely has time to brace himself before you collide with him, throwing your arms around his neck. He catches you with steady arms, pulling you close, the firm grip of his gauntlets grounding you both. For a long moment, the world around you fades, and it’s just the two of you—alive, together, and safe.

You pull back slightly, standing on your tiptoes as your hands find the sides of his helmet. Gently, you press your forehead against the cool beskar, closing your eyes and letting out a shuddering breath. It’s a silent gesture, a keldabe kiss that speaks of everything you both feel but can’t yet put into words.

Greef Karga steps forward, a broad grin on his face. "That was impressive, Mando. Very impressive." He pauses, his gaze flicking between Din and you. "Looks like your Guild rates just went up."

You and Din step back from each other, but his hand finds yours, holding on tightly as if to anchor himself. He nods to Greef’s comment, then asks, "Any more stormtroopers?"

Greef shakes his head. "I think we cleaned up the town. I'm thinking of sticking around just to be sure." Cara nods in agreement, her expression firm. She sets the Child down, and it squeals with delight, waddling unsteadily toward you and Din.

Din watches the Child for a moment, then tilts his head toward Cara. "You’re staying here?"

Greef interjects, puffing his chest slightly as he looks around at the scorched streets of Nevarro. "Why not? Nevarro’s a fine planet. And now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, it’s quite respectable."

Din’s voice carries a note of skepticism even through the modulator as he replies, "As a bounty hunter hive?"

Greef chuckles, tapping Din on the shoulder. "Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters." He then shifts his attention to Cara, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And maybe this fine specimen of a soldier would consider joining our ranks."

Cara snorts, shaking her head. "I’ve got some clerical concerns regarding my chain code."

Greef grins, offering, "And if you’d agree to become my enforcer, clerical concerns would be the least of your worries."

The Child finally reaches Din, gripping his leg with both hands, gazing up with wide, trusting eyes. Din glances down, and even behind the visor, you can sense his heart soften. Greef notices too, then turns his focus back to Din. "But you, my friend—you’ll be welcome back into the Guild with open arms. Go off, enjoy yourself. And when you’re ready to return, you’ll have your pick of all the quarries."

Greef then shifts his gaze to you, his eyes warm. "And you, my dear, will always have a place at the med center. It’ll be there when you’re ready to come back."

Din adjusts the Child in his arms, his tone steady but resolute. "I’m afraid I have more pressing matters."

Cara reaches out, rubbing one of the Child’s large ears affectionately. The Child gurgles in response, and Cara smiles, looking at Din. "Take care of this little one." She then turns to you, her expression softening. "And her too."

Greef adds with a knowing twinkle in his eye, "Or maybe they’ll be the ones taking care of you."

You smile, warmth spreading through your chest as Din nods. He gently passes the Child to you, and as you cradle him, Din wraps an arm securely around your waist. His voice is low, almost tender, as he asks, "You ready?"

Your heart skips a beat, and you glance up at him through your lashes. "I’m terrified. Please don’t drop me."

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through the beskar. "Never."

With that, the two of you take off into the sky, the jetpack lifting you both. The wind rushes past, tugging at your clothes as your stomach flips. You squeeze your eyes shut, clinging to the Child close to your chest and Din as the ground falls away beneath you. Despite the dizzying height and the roaring wind, you feel a sense of peace—a quiet certainty that, no matter what happens, you’re safe in his arms.

The journey back to the Razor Crest is somber, the weight of loss hanging heavily in the air. Together, you and Din wordlessly bury Kuiil beneath the scorched sands of Nevarro. The burial is simple, just the two of you under the vast sky, the only sound the wind whispering through the rocks. Din kneels for a moment, his hand resting on the mound of earth, before rising slowly. Neither of you speak, the silence saying all there is to say.

With the burial complete, Din takes your hand, and together you walk back to the Razor Crest. His grip is firm, grounding you as the reality of the past few days settles in. As you step aboard the ship, the familiar hum of the engines provides a small comfort—a reminder that, despite everything, you’re still moving forward.

In the cockpit, you strap in beside Din, watching as he straps the Child into his seat. The little one’s eyes are wide, curious, and full of wonder. Din gently moves a bit of the Child’s shirt as he looks at the mythosaur necklace around the Child’s neck, allowing it to stay with him. The Child coos softly, fingers grasping the pendant as if it holds some great significance.

Din settles into the pilot’s seat, and with a few swift motions, the Razor Crest rumbles to life. The ship lifts off, the ground falling away beneath you as the stars come into view. The vastness of space opens up before you, dark and endless.

You lean back in your seat, trying to shake off the lingering unease. But as the stars streak past, that sinking feeling in your chest refuses to leave. It gnaws at you, a quiet but insistent reminder that this isn’t the end. This is just the beginning—of something larger, something more dangerous than you could ever have imagined.

The Razor Crest sails deeper into the galaxy, leaving the ashes of Nevarro behind, but the weight of the journey ahead presses down on you. Whatever awaits, you know one thing for certain: it’s far from over.

TAGLIST:

@wastingspaces@avengersheart@lunatic1012@keepingupwiththeskywalkers@mxltifxnd0m@syviiss@luckyzipperscissorsbat@avengersheart @dins-riduur-anthe @lizlil@n7cje @scoliobean @ofmusesandsecrets

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x empath!reader #din djarin x forcesensitive!reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian rewrite

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lesbianslvt666 · 1 year ago

Note

omg, hi!!!! I absolutely LOVED the Dina one-shot and I was wondering if you could write more about their situationship, maybe make Dina being all jealous and shit in a celebration party for their team winning or the reader seeing Dina with another gurl and start ignoring her and Dina having no clue of what she must've done and maybe a make up sex? pls pls I just need more dina fics😭😭😭

Hiiii, i didn’t saw your request until now sorry…

Kinda second pt to this

Volleyball!player!Dina x cheerleader!Reader

Cw: shitty writing lol, not proofread, fast make out sesh, girls kissing (😱), alcohol consumption (sorry) mentions of 🍃, not smut yet cause i hit writers block (again, i am so sorry to disappoint :((), kinda angsty, Dina is kinda troubled cause she feels guilty, she loves you but she just shy.

Your team decided to celebrate that same night the victory against Dina’s team, as a “rub it on their faces” kinda of party, inviting them all to it.

When you arrived to your house, all you wanted was to get a good bath and relax, however, your friends insisted that it would look bad for you not to be there.

So after relaxing and showering you came out with a towel and your phone, music playing from it to get you pumped.

You tossed to phone to your bed, going through your wardrobe, your phone ringed.

Once

Twice

Thrice…

So you choose to check it, you knew it was dina for you had another ring tone just for her.

At first it was to know not to open her conversation around your teammates, it slowly became the fluttering sensation of knowing she was texting you.

Din😮‍💨

Hey babe whatcha doinggggg??

I was thinking

Maybe some us time??

You💕

Hello hot stuff, just freshly out of shower yup 🤩

I actually was getting ready to go to the party, you know, for my team who won against yours??

You going??

You wanted to press every button of her, to get her as bothered as you possibly could…

Din😮‍💨

Nah, iont wanna go with a bunch of petty winners.

You💕

But amma be there… with this dress…

You tossed your phone back to the bed, grabbing *the* dress, soft fabric sliding on your body as you put it on.

You took a pic, she could see your pretty lips and neck, collarbones exposed and the dress on full display.

You

but anywayyyy, ill be there tonite.

She didn’t reply.

You didn’t though much of it, as you got a call from one of your teammates.

“Hey pretty, amma pick you up, i am two streets away, you better be out when i arrive”

She didn’t let you reply, it was a command not a request and you just giggled at her hurried tone, taking your keys and your purse with a lipgloss and your phone inside.

The ride only cheering you more, loud music blasting on the speakers and a few ciggs shared with your friends.

If your trainer knew you would never hear the end of it…

Arriving to the party was fast, music blasting and people drinking all over.

Your team greeted you all with loud screams and shiny grins.

You scanned the room with your eyes, not a Dina on sight…

Boring.

You walked amongst your team, greeting friends around but going straight to the kitchen were the drinks are.

Thats when you bumped on Joslyn.

Her long and strong hands took a glass from behind you, getting closer to you body.

“How you holding up pretty?” Her voice was low and raspy, and as much as you thought she was pretty, she didn’t made you feel what Dina did.

She didn’t made you stomach flutter and your knees weak like dina does even just by looking at you.

Her eyes didn’t sparked the fire in your gut like Dina’s do.

Her hands didn’t make you feel like a burning wildfire that booms with every brushing of her touch.

But still… you agreed to her requests at dancing with you.

Few songs in, and a couple of glasses down.

Your head was spinning, Joslyns hands on your hips, swaying to the beat of the music till you finally saw her eyes.

Pretty brown orbs chasing you with disdain.

She wasn’t mad at you.

No, she could never.

She was mad at the situation, how come neither of you were courageous enough to be honest with each other.

Why was now she at this party, partially high with her hands on this chick, dancing stupid, jealousy corrode through her veins while she saw you swaying your hips back and forward on this girl.

Eyes glued to hers while you took it as a challenge, both with other women while thinking of each other.

She couldn’t take it anymore, she excused herself to the nearest bathroom, either to cry, punch something or throw up.

Her mind was running laps of things she could say to, debating whether or not to tell you how she felt.

Cause if you felt the same how come you hadn’t say anything yet huh?

Like it’s not Dinas responsibility to carry what you to had to the next step, right?

Because if you needed her the same way she needs you, you’d had already do somethi-

“DINA, LET ME INNNN!!” your words running out your pretty mouth like chopped fragments of you wild mind.

“Dina, please, we umm… talk! We need to talk” every word came down to a hit on the door, desperate attempts to open the door and groans of failed attempts.

Dina opened the door right after that, getting you inside the bathroom with her.

Your pretty eyes scanned her body now up close.

Black skirt running up her beautiful thighs, her lace top plumping up her boobs and you almost went feral.

She looked as pretty as always but this time you couldn’t hide how hot and bothered you were for her.

Your hand moved upwards without your knowledge, caressing on top of her clothed breast.

She took your wrist with a swift motion that took you out of your drunken state.

Your body flushed on hers on the blink of an eye.

And she kissed you hard enough to melt, your legs felt like jelly.

Her hands gravitated to your ass while one of yours moved to her tit and the other to her lower back, feeling her picking nipples on your own.

Soft lips smacking to each other, delicious tongues playing and exploring the already known territory and sucking mouths that were melting on each other.

The kiss so heated that the saliva was drooping down from your chin.

She stopped you.

Hand on your ass and the other on your neck.

“Tell me what you want angel, please i meed to know” her mouth molding on to a frown that made your head fall to the side.

She looked to cute.

“I want you to fuck me”

Her eyes drooped down.

Why does she looks sad right now huh??

What else does she wants?

“Nothing more?” Her hand on your neck falling to your lower back.

What more?

Isn’t she the one that proposed to have this hidden thing?

The one that would come over and whenever you thought of getting raw and intimate with yours and her feelings she changed the topic to sex?

She basically silently told you all she wanted was a casual sexual situationship.

And at first it was fun and it didn’t hurt like this.

At first it was a challenge seen her “flirt” with the fans in the crowd.

At first it was exciting to just fuck.

But now, you just feel like a side dish, never the main.

You might be the favorite for a while but she still preferred others.

So you pushed her with the hand that was on her tit.

Your drunken state returning in shapes of tears that outed your aching heart.

Rapid thoughts razing in your mind while your heart was booming inside.

“More like… what?”

Your voice came as a whisper, the room felt like it was lacking oxygen, warm and cold at the same time.

“Like something more… important?”

Fuck her.

Your hand pointed at her.

“Oh now you want something more than this?”

Your voice cracking between your choked sobs, you couldn’t stop your crying and Dinas heart felt like imploding on her chest.

Her pain mirroring yours.

“I am sorry…”

“I need water” your voice almost inaudible, while your hand twisted the knob, leaving Dina behind to admire you leaving.

You ran straight to your friends to grab your things but they stopped you from talking with loud screams of “the queen is back” and “we missed you baby”’s

A shot of don cuervo was tossed to your hands while your smiling friends were counting down, their happiness sticking to you a bit, you choose to stay.

The music was booming and you had nothing to stop you from celebrating your and your team’s victory.

So you danced on, with, to and for every girl around, you saw Dina, looking at you from a corner while talking to one of her teammates.

You chooses to give her the entertainment she was craving.

You jumped on the bar table, dancing around and swaying your hip to the rhythm.

The dancing, the crowd, the alcohol and the cigs you had smoked before making you feel too warm and uncomfortable.

So you took your shirt off while the girls and boy cheered for you.

Dina was in between the crowd.

So you danced more sensually, you could see she was pissed, but the show was short lived when you tripped on a bottle and slipped down

Two girls sloppily caught you and Dina took you from their holdings giving the excuse that age was the “best friend” and they fell for it.

“Hey, princess you are a bit too drunk, let me get you back on your dorm” her voice was soothing and soft to your ears, your brain didn’t wanted ti remember why she was mad at Dina in the first place.

Not when she was this pretty, not when she looked this hot, and less when she felt this good.

She helped you out of the house while putting your shirt back on in the process.

Your protests against going with her, leaving the party so early and putting back on your shirt were answered by a few “ill get you back home, it is what it is” and a lot of sorry’s.

Waking up after partied wasn’t usually the part you were looking for, and less when you had drink this much alcohol with almost to no water in between the process.

Pounding head and dry mouth, your face felt oily and you just needed to shower.

You looked to your side, a note was left there, with your clothes from last night.

You looked down.

A pair of sleeping pants and and an oversized shirt, she had left you panties but taken your bra off, what gentlewoman, you rolled your eyes.

You stepped to the shower, wobbling legs and dizzy walk but you got there.

Warm water hitting your body just right while you choose your favorite shampoo, lathering it in your hands before massaging it in your scalp.

The relaxation getting the best of you, almost lulling you to sleep.

When you heard the front door it startled you a bit but you didn’t thought much of it, your roommates normally where very active in the mornings.

However, Not just the front door opened, after a few seconds your room door opened, you could hear the sound of steps and plastic bags getting planted on your side table.

The sounds stopped.

For a few minutes there was only silence. Silence that was cut down by the sounds of rattling paper.

You stepped put of your shower, towel around your body and dina sat on your bed.

“Hello pretty… i have breakfast for you.” Her voice became smaller with each word, her eyes were glued to the ground and she looked so adorable.

“What are you doing here?” Your question might have come out harsher than you meant for she now looked back at you, face tinted with offense.

“Sorry I was the one you had to see first thing in the morning, ill get it going.” She rushed to her feet trying to get out the door, you wanted to stop her.

But memories of last night hit you and you felt embarrassed and hurt, you felt too exposed so you just hurried to close your door and put on some clothes.

When you saw the breakfast your mind ran to giving it to your roommates and forget about dina.

Bu you couldn’t, your stomach was aching with hunger and it just looked so good.

You took a bite and you almost went nuts

The flavors were expanding on your louth and you felt this warm on your chest just to the thought of Dina going out of her way to bring you you favorite dish.

Your head went back after taking a sip of your water and when your focus returned to take another bit you realized the scrunched up paper that was just tossed in the ground beside the garbage can.

You took it and opened it.

The note that was on your bedside.

A letter.

My Dearest Love.

I just realized how stupid I had been.

How for a very long time i had left your feeling slip pass me like water being absorbed in the hot pavement.

Not giving you back what you were gifting me.

I love you, but I am a pussy.

So i cannot tell you this in words.

However, i know i had hurt you many times before.

So, if you choose your peace before me, I’ll accept with love.

Yours truly, Dina, the girl that wants to be yours forever but is too afraid to ask you.

You left your room right after finishing your very delicious breakfast, taking your car keys and igniting the engine like your life depended on this.

She might be very avant-garde (shit at writing) figurative speech, but you needed her and to make things better.

You got to her place in eight minutes when it normally takes you fifteen, might be illegal in some parts but she was worth jail.

You nocked without thinking, just pure adrenaline behind your eyes.

She opened the door, she was wearing an oversized band tee and a pair of white socks.

Her eyes opening wide when she saw you standing i front of her.

“I want to be yours too”

(I want need her)

Next part to be the smut only?? (I hit writers block again) sorry :((

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