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castleamc · 3 years

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midnight special

Pairing: Javier Peña x GN!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+, Blowjob, M-Receiving, In public, Established relationship, Late 70's (cause of the movie), No use of y/n, Reader has no physical description, Javier just deserves sweet praises and to be cared for, anything else lmk!

Summary: You come to learn Javier hasn't gone to the movies in a while, so you treat him to a night he won't ever forget.

A/N: Happy Halloween lmaojsdajs <333 (yall i gave this a skim over so if there’s mistakes i am so fucking sorry lmao. I’ll fix after but i think there isn’t—lmk if any!!)

Main Masterlist 🎃

You were sincerely shocked. There was just no way there could be a possible explanation for this.

“What do you mean you haven’t gone to the movies?!”

You shouted running after Javier who went into the kitchen, who shrugged finishing the rest of his coffee. “I just haven’t had time since I’ve moved to Colombia and...” He rolled his eyes, before cleaning his mug.

“And?” You leaned over the kitchen counter.

“And I guess I had no one to go with.”

You pouted your lips dragging your slippers on the floor making a scraping sound. The corners of his mustache curled into a loving smile knowing what’s coming next. You draped your arms over his shoulders resting your chin, “That was dramatic of you, but I’ll let it slide only because you are very cute. You have me now, so over my dead body you’re missing out on going to the movies.”

He chuckled kissing your arm and taking them off his shoulders to kiss your forehead.

“I don’t have time corazón.”

Javier stepped aside to walk towards the coffee to gather up his files that had been stealing your boyfriend for about two weeks now. He hasn’t hand a day off ever since they sent out a tip line with any news or updates, which at this point has been nothing but trolls calling in the fuck with the agents.

Watching him exhaustedly flip through some files breaks your heart. Javi needed a day off away from all of this, that life. Just for one day. One day wasn’t going to kill him let alone a 2 hour movie, hopefully.

Tapping your hands on the counter you decide he needs this. “Let’s watch a movie on Halloween.”

He makes an incoherent mumble seemingly agreeing perhaps, you have no idea. You can't make out what he said. So you walk behind the couch wrapping your arms around him knowing exactly how to get his attention.

Your lips make their way to attack his neck with kisses in his most sensitive spots. Satisfied moans escape your lips enticing his neck to extend to the side providing more room.

You smile continuing your kisses on this new territory, “Let’s go…” you start unbuttoning his shirt and further leaning closer to kiss his collar bone. “To the movies.”

Javier groans out a sigh resting his head back on your shoulder. Without processing what you said he agrees, “Whatever you want baby.”

You stop your assault to stand up again, satisfied. In the process, his head falls back with a small thump on the couch’s frame. You grimaced at his wince from the soft hit, but you’re too happy to focus on his minor pain.

You reach to hold the sides of his cheeks looking upside down to him, he licked his lips staring at yours. "You're evil."

With a wiggly of your brows, you kiss his lips, but this time, you drag your nails to the inside of his shirt. His chest is smooth and hot, you feel his nipples pebble on the smooth surface of your hand. His chest is the perfect canvas to rest, plant kisses, and sleep on.

You part a few inches to speak. “I wanna see Halloween on Halloween, think you can handle it?”

He laughs baffled that you would even ask that. Sitting upright to turn his body to face he throws the file on the coffee table. “Can I handle it? It’s a movie of course I can.”

“Okayyyy…”

There was nothing that was going to stand in your way of Javier watching this movie. Setting aside that it’s Halloween, a time for spookiness and pure junk food, the mere fact he hasn’t seen or gone to the movies in such a long time makes you feel for him. He’s always busy, coming home tired, and barely even eats decent food. The man could rely on whisky and coffee for days if he isn’t reminded to eat actual solid food.

You’re going to treat him tonight, it’s Halloween the theater will be more or less packed. Rarely anyone goes during Halloween, they’re either out with their kids or staying home. You’ll be able to have some alone time and really give him the best cinematic experience in your own way.

Entering the theater, Javi detours taking out his wallet asking if you want anything to eat. Theater food is always pricey for some reason, so you tell him to buy drinks, but no actual food. You’ve got that covered.

You giggly open your bag for him to peer inside. You’re proud of your collection of snacks and candy meanwhile Javier starts laughing.

“You joke but it’s expensive here.”

“I don’t mind wasting money for you corazon.”

“That's sweet, but you shouldn’t have to. Just buy drinks I have feeling you’re going to be really thirsty tonight,” you flirt interlocking your fingers with his. “What are you up to?”

He asks handing the woman money for two medium drinks.

“Just making sure you have the best night. That doesn't mean I’m up to something.”

He squints at you, not believing a word you’re saying which is fine you don’t care. It'll all be worth it once you're inside and he's relaxed enjoying himself.

Heading to your assigned theater room, Javier calls out every movie that’s screening on the posters on the walls out loud to himself. He sounded interested in some if he gave a small mmph sound and if he didn’t sound interested in them there was a snort of ridiculousness. You prided yourself knowing how to detect his sounds of approval.

After some time into the movie, he barely squeezes your knee unknowingly during a jump scare. His eyes dart to the side looking at you and you’re pressing your lips together trying to hold it in.

“I didn’t get scared. Don’t start.”

Taking a small sip of your drink you whisper, “Didn’t say you did.”

"She shouldn't had checked in the closet either way. It's a stupid move."

"No, I agree." You whispered back patting his thigh trying your best to agree with his reasoning.

Midway into the movie Javier continued to hold your hand rubbing your knuckles, every now and then you’d hear him mumble snarky comments made towards the character's choices in the movie. Warning her to go to a friends house or lock the doors and closer the blinds. You couldn't help but smile even through the tense moments, he was enjoying himself.

“What a fucking idiot,” he whispered again consumed by the movie. You smirk snuggling closer to Javier taking in his cologne. His shoulders were relaxed and he was leaning against the chair truly enjoying himself. There was barely anyone around like you had thought. Probably out or at home, didn't matter why. What mattered is that no one was near to see what you both were doing.

With your hand caressing his arm that dangled between his legs you let your hands wander. Who says you can’t enjoy a movie more than one way?

It is something you’ve never done before, in public and risking getting caught. It was thrilling and the jump scares of the movie only heightened the atmosphere.

It’s really making his first time at the movies truly memorable.

Placing your hand to rest on his stomach you pretend to focus on the movie completely forgetting the point of the scene. Michael Myers can wait. Your true goal is unbuckling those tight navy blue jeans he wears so effortlessly.

With your fingers you start to unbutton his jeans in one swoop when he warns you looking down, but making no effort to stop you.

“Corazón what are you doing?” Javier whispered looking down and around the theater to see if anyone can see what you're about to do.

Looking up at him with doe big eyes glistening with the reflection of the movie, “Giving you relaxing night. Unless you don’t want it?”

His brows shoot up brieflying looking away to see whose around, no one is near you both. He mindlessly thanks god for that blessing.

“I want it but-.”

You smirk kissing his forearm, “Good. Now shut up and watch the movie or I’ll stop.”

His brows bunch together, he wants to see you take him, but he obeys. His lips part breathing heavy with anticipation trying to make out what is happening in the movie. You lowered yourself down to the floor, hands on his knees you spread his legs wider.

With your hands sliding up his thigh to the the bulge of his crotch, it was tightening as you rubbed. He closed his eyes for a moment rolling his hips as you palmed his cock, he started to feel himself harden the more you pressed.

Moving closer between his legs Javi can’t help but sneak small glances watching you pull down his jeans down from his waist. He lifts up to help looking around once more, before looking down to meet your lust filled eyes you tsk at him innocently. It’s so quiet during some scenes Javier doesn’t know how long he can stay quiet for you. And he knows you know this.

Smirking you whisper twirling the curls of his coarse hair before touching his cock, “And no boxers? You’re all ready for me and so so big. I might stop.”

"No!" He coughs feeling embarrassed at his outburst. He adjusted his position raising a hand to apologize to a woman who had looked back, "Perdon."

Javier returns his hand on the top of your head. "Please don't stop. I'll listen to you."

“Such a good man.” You coo wrapping your hand around his cock and pulling it out.

He opens your mouth with his thumb and you suck on the thick digit moaning gently, but strong enough that he could feel the vibration of your voice. You lean closer releasing his thumb to spit over the head of his cock. Javier watches the trail of spit connecting your mouth to him and tightens his grip on the arm rest. It takes everything in him not to push up and have you take him. The heat of your saliva touching his cock was so good that he couldn't focus anymore on the movie. Not when his cock was being licked by your tongue in the middle of a movie theater.

You smirk, but continue your play watching him come undone trying to hold it together. “So hard and big for me.”

Javi groans pressing his head further into the cushion of the chair while clenching the arm rest he returns his death stare to the movie.

“Always taking care of me,” you coo pumping his length with a few twists to spread your saliva. The sounds were wet and loud only you both could hear, but any faster everyone could hear. So you had to go slow, painfully slow.

Javier kept holding on the arm rest lifting up at your every tug.

It was too dark for him to see you unless the movie had a bright scene, so snatching a quick glance down would be useless.

All he could feel was your warm hand pumping him closer and closer and closer to his orgasm, he was so close.

Your mouth was near his aching skin, that was either his doom or his haven or both. Either way there was relief when those sweet beautiful lips of yours wrapped around the head of his cock and he relished in the safety of it. His pre-cum was starting to spill onto your tongue that you started to suck pulling more of his seed.

Javier had to force out a hushed sigh of relief leaning back with his eyes were fluttering, “Oh fuck.”

You pulled back a bit whispering to the head of his cock letting the air jerk his movements on purpose. His eyes snapped open to his throbbing head shimmering in your saliva. “Javi I need you to open your eyes baby. You have to be on the lookout.”

Javi rubs his face combing back his hair that fell to his forehead, “You feel so good, amor. I'm close.”

“I’ve got you, baby let go.”

Pressing a kiss to his cock you continued to bob your head making sure Javier felt every single of one your strangled moans. Preparing yourself you pushed him deeper into your throat little by little, as much as he loved hearing you gag, you couldn’t do it here. His breath was starting to become jagged and strangled, he was close.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel and hear him lift up pushing in and out your mouth from his chair trying to hold it in. Pulling back a bit to catch your breath you twirled the top of his cock savoring the taste of his velvety smooth skin.

The crowd in the theater gasped right at the perfect time you hollowed your cheeks groaning. With one more tightly lipped pull back on his cock caused him to let go of his load into your mouth.

“Shit! Oh fuuu-.” He pressed his lips together gripping one of the arm chairs while the other was wrapped around your throat. You kept swallowing every drop trying to breath through your nose, you weren’t going to let him spill anywhere but inside of you. There was drool mingled with his cum was staring to seep from the corners of your mouth.

With a shaky breath Javier rests his hand on the back of your head soothing you. Barely being able to keep his eyes open all he could hear was the movie, the blurry images of blonde woman running to a house down the street was all a haze.

When his orgasm ends you lean back letting go of his cock with a satisfied wet pop. He can’t see you clearly kneeling in front of him, but you can see him. His chest is heaving you take matters into your hands to clean the mess around your mouth. You watch his eyes widen tiredly as you take his limp hands using one his fingers to clean the corners of your mouth that has his cum spilled, before popping his finger into your mouth cleaning it dry.

Javier wanted so badly to throw you on the floor right here in front of everyone and make you scream. That would just have to be saved for when you both get home in a few minutes.

Instead, he reaches for your cheek caressing the pillowy feel of your lips with his thumb. He leans forward on his elbows, completely ignoring the fact that his cock is out in the open resting on his jeans.

“This might be my favorite holiday.” He joked lifting your chin up. “Happy Halloween, baby.”

He rests his forehead to yours, before kissing you. “We need to get home for the sequel.”

You chuckled holding his hands helping you stand up, the movie is near ending when you sit down again and he fixes his jeans.

“I can’t wait to see how it goes.”

Javier wraps an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to his chest, “It’s my favorite one. I’m sure it’ll have you screaming by the end of it. Trust me.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirk feeling his hands roam on your arm. “Yeah.”

His hand around your shoulder finds it way to that ticklish part of your neck, you try hard not to squirm. Squeezing softly there’s a hint of what’s to come making you feel eager. “Think you can handle it?”

“Take me home and find out.”

A/N: If you celebrate it, Happy Halloween bbys!! I had this whole thing planned seven days/seven fics but my fucking costume took more planning than intended and then finishing work to party this weekend :(( so we’ll see (in a way less annoying.) this is also queued…so i might be too shit faced when this comes out x

Happy Halloween, stay safe, have plenty of fun, enjoy your night in/out! Thank you for reading as always! 👻 Andddd….

Permanent Boys Tags: @mandocrasis, @frenchfryfranki, @snow30285, @greeneyedblondie44, @javierpinme, @sharkbait77, @kirsteng42, @beskarboobs, @cozy-pie, @littlefrescita, @mswarriorbabe80, @leannawithacapitala, @heythere-mel, @voteforpedro09, @just-here-for-the-moment, @djarinladylatin, @athalien, @littlemisspascal, @jediknight122, @lowlights, @jitterbugs927 , @hocus-chlocus, @lips-for-you, @pedrostories, @hayley-the-comet, @maryfanson, @xaestheticalien, @diaryofkali, @sherala007, @hauntedmama

Javier's #1 DEA Partners: @hnt-escape, @woodlandmouth, @theewokingdead, @dobbyjen, @finerthingsboutique, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @elinedjarin

crossed out tags don't work bbys 🥺

#javier peña x you #javier peña #Javier peña x you #Javier peña x reader #Javier peña x gn reader #Javier peña x gen reader #Javier peña x general reader #pedro pascal characters #Javier peña fic #narcos fanfic #javier peña imagine #pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #narcos oneshot

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lotti-lyric · 2 years

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how bnha boys react to a puppy in the dorms!!

fluff, gn!reader, headcanons!!

includes; midoriya, bakugou, todoroki, kirishima, and kaminari

a/n: i’m super new to this so i’ll try my very best!! pls don’t hesitate to reach out!! the song linked just fits the vibe idk 💗 oh and i also use all capitals a lot and my spelling is crap, im sorry in advance!

Izuku Midoriya

STOP HE’S SO EXCITED

So y/n and deku both are sitting in the dorm rooms on the couch, y/n pressed against his chest as he writes in his notebook about earlier training

BUT THEN ✋🏻

YALL HEAR A BARK BARK

I swear he sits up so fast, his other arm is kinda hovering over y/n like a little shield. He knows they can protect themselves but his instinct was to guard y/n 🥺✋🏻

SO WHEN THE PUPPY HOPS ON THE COUCH

“Oh uh well hi there little buddy!! I’m Midoriya and this is (Y/N) my S/o!!”

HE SAYS AS IF THE DOG IS ABOUT TO RESPOND 😭✋🏻

HE’S GIGGLING WHILE THE DOG LICKS HIS FACE AND HE KEEPS CALLING FOR YOU TO LOOK AS HE PETS THE DOG

all in all; he’s so happy and he’s got the goofiest smile on his face for the rest of the day, 10/10 dog dad

Katsuki Bakugou

OH MY GOD HE’ SO CONFUSED

One minute he’s got a protective arm around y/n and the next there’s a dog on his lap 🤨

He sits up suddenly with a few swears here and there as the dog prances onto his lap and makes itself comfortable

He looks back to y/n with a look of pure confusion, he seriously doesn’t know how to react 💀

He’ll look down at the dog like

“What do you want? You want to be pet? Tch, Whatever, dumb dog…”

As he reaches down to pet the dog, he acts annoyed but within 5 minutes he’s acting like it’s totally normal

Y/n might catch him using a baby voice but if he notices they heard, RUN BABE 💀✋🏻

Shoto Todoroki

Y/n and shoto are both sitting hand in hand on the couch in the common rooms, sharing a pair of earbuds

Cause of this, y’all don’t hear the dog that just bolts from around the corner until it plops directly in front of Todoroki’s feet

MF JUST RAISES AN EYEBROW BEFORE TAKING OUT AN EARBUD, BENDING OVER SLIGHTLY AND GOING

“Hello, are you lost? Do you have a name?”

AND HE LIKE REACHES HIS HAND OUT SO THE DOG CAN SMELL HIM BEFORE HE LIKE SCRATCHES THE PUPPYS HEAD SO SOFTLY

HIS MOUTH CURVES INTO THE SLIGHTEST LITTLE SMILE UNTIL HE LOOKS TO Y/N, FULL GRINS OUT OF NOWHERE, AND THEN PICKS THE PUPPY UP

Y/N WASNT READY-

he carries the puppy to whoever brought it but he doesn’t hesitate to give it one last head pat before they leave

He settles back down next to Y/N with a satisfied smile

“It’s home now :)” (a/n: THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IM-)

Ejirou Kirishima

OK SO I STRONGLY HC THAT KIRI HAS OWNED A DOG AT SOME POINT SO AS SOON AS HE HEARD THE LITTLE NAIL CLICKS AND COLLAR JINGLE

“PUPPY!! (Y/N) ITS A PUPPY!! WHATS UP LITTLE DUDE!!”

No hesitation full lifts the dog from the ground, NO MATTER THE SIZE

He’s so excited, dancing around with the puppy in his arms while rambling some made up song about this random ass dog 🥺

He finally puts the dog down and he finds something to play fetch with, like just materialized that stick out of nowhere wtf 💀🤨

Whoever owns the dog in actuality is so betrayed the puppy likes Kiri more 🧍🏼‍♀️

LITERALLY BECOME BEST FRIENDS AND TAKE 1000% PICTURES

WILL SHED A TEAR IF YOU HOLD THE PUPPY HE CANT HANDLE IT ITS TOO CUTE OH MY GOSH

Denki Kaminari

OH MY GOD HE IS ASTOUNDED

So you guys are about to start another race in Mario Kart, Y/n absolutely demolishing kami for all he’s worth on Moo Moo Meadows 💀

BUT THEN YALL HEAR A WOOF

This random puppy just comes sprinting in, absolutely no context

AND KAMINARI WITHOUT HESITATING RESPONDS TO EVERY BARK WITH A RANDOM ASS SOUND SO IT SOUNDS LIKE A CONVERSATION 😭✋🏻

Before you can even say wtf, they’re chasing each other around the room like besties playing freeze tag on the playground

But as if they’re in synch, they both turn to you at once

*Bork* “You’re right… Y/N IS IT, RUNNNNNNN”

Eventually you, denki, and the puppy are laying on your backs in the common room, trying to catch your breath before the owner comes in, so confused 😭✋🏻

It’s a heartbreaking goodbye 😔✋🏻 but the start of a new tradition for u and kami to play freeze tag at random times!!

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jangofctts · 4 years

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Are You in Or Out?

Rated: Explicit

Word count: 11.5K yall I am SORRY

Warnings: good lord y'all here we GO-- smut, explicit language, violence and mentions of blood and gore, injuries, unprotected sex (don't be a dick, wrap that stick!), oral (m&f receiving), blindfolding, vaginal and anal fingering, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, spit is used as lube but for the love of GOD doNT DO THAT, there are some dom vibes on Paz’s end

Summary: The job you’re on takes a turn for the worst--Paz comes to your rescue and you're brought to the Covert. There you meet Din Djarin. though during a good natured sparring session, you’re suddenly stuck between an age old rivalry that spirals out of hand. Hopefully an agreement can be met.

a/n: hey...how y’all doin....SO lemme explain you smthn. I said helmets must be OfF--giv me them LIPS BABEY so this is a slight AU in which mandos can see other mandos’ faces. ya get me? I also tHot that it would be nice and fun to set the timeline 5-6 years BEFORE the plot of the Mandalorian so we gots a younger din here. anyway, as always enjoy and I hope you like!!

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes—

Some as little as burning your finger on the nozzle of a smoking blaster or tripping over your own shoelaces. Simple things. Mindless things.

Nothing that could ever compare to the catastrophic decision of picking up bounty hunting as a reliable source of income.

The little ones were easy—tax evaders and deserters of the Empire—most who’d yield and gladly follow without complaint just at the sight of your blaster pointed between their eyes. And the gag of it is—most of the time you never bothered to load the damn thing.

Reckless.

An invitation for disaster.

But skirting that precarious edge, one little slip up away from plunging head first into inevitable trouble is better than Bracca. Stars—anything is better than Bracca. There’s no glory in bounty hunting but there’s even less in ship scrapping. Abysmal pay in exchange for risking your life on rain slicked metal with only the Ibdis Maw to break your fall.

The guild you work for is considerate—scratch that. Greef Karga is considerate. Sure the flirting is a touch unbearable but it saves your ass in the long run. All easy money bounties set aside for you in exchange for a cheap drink, hollow laughs and sugar sweet smiles.

It’s enough credits to get by—more than plenty to rent a room and charter a ship.

But there’s only so many bounties to capture within the limits of the guild and oh so many people the empty blaster trick works on. And so the credits begin to thin; it gets too expensive to buy off a pilot and the debate over buying food or being able to pay for your room becomes more frequent than the scraprats that skitter inside the walls.

It’s suicide to snag a higher paying bounty because....well—these bounties shoot back.

Whatever.

Might as well die trying. Who knows, maybe you could score big time if you manage to pull this off.

Maybe.

-=-=-=-

You’re not sure who’s more surprised—Karga when you asked for the bounty or yourself when he actually gave it to you.

“Are you sure, kid? This could—“

“End in a fiery shitshow? Yeah—I figured that,” you sigh, swirling your drink with a little complimentary toothpick. “But I need the money.”

“Hah! You’ve got guts, girl.” He flashes you a smile and smooths down his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Tell you what. The last assignment was just taken but I’m sure if you run you could catch him. Work somethin’ out.”

Jumping from your seat, you throw on your coat and toss a couple credits onto the table to cover the drink. “What’s he look like?”

“Big fellow—Mandalorian. You’ll know when you see him.”

You shout your thanks over your shoulder and hightail outta there. The landing docks aren’t far, you can see them from here. It’s finding the guy that could pose a problem.

If he hasn’t already left, you bitterly think.

However, it seems the universe is on your side today. Karga was right. He is big. Stands out like a sore thumb against his ship that glitters dully in the overcast sky. Kinda like an oversized blueberry. A yellow and blue blueberry….not important—

“Hey! Hey, you!” You’re so close, just a couple yards away. You swear and hurry up your pace as he steps onto the loading ramp. “Big guy! Large...blue man?”

You trip over your own feet as he turns his head. Fuck—

No way are you gonna be able to bargain with this guy. Built like a fucking AT-AT and probably just as stubborn. After all, no one would ever be dumb enough to come between a Mandalorian and their quarry. You grimace, and suck in a breath—

Before a word even leaves your mouth he interrupts with a steady, unwavering;

“No.”

Your brows furrow. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you were going to ask,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I work alone.”

Ok, then. You didn’t want to resort to begging, but you’re kinda running out of options here. You take a steadying breath and plant yourself at the bottom of the ramp. “C’mon man. Look—I’ll let you take seventy percent of the cut and I can—“

“You’ll let me?” He repeats, the staticky tone of his voice dropping into an edge more cutting than broken transparisteel. The metal platting on the ramp vibrates from the weight of his step to move closer; Stars it takes every fucking inch of willpower to hold your ground. “You’re lucky if I let you leave with your life. Get lost.”

Fuckfuckfuck—you should listen. You wanna fucking run for the hills and never look back in case he comes looking to purge your name from the kriffing galaxy. You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. Too bad—you’ve dug your heels so far into this empire of dirt and false bravado that your only way out is continuing to poke the sleeping bear until he snaps your spine or caves.

You have to crane your neck to glare into that dark strip of his vizor, seeing as he’s invited himself into your personal space. “No.”

“No?” He mocks, now toe to toe with your scuffed up boots.

Your teeth clench, a scalding flush burning through your cheeks and all the way down to your chest. He’s toying with you—finding amusement in your stubbornness and apparent lack of braincells for challenging him. “You don’t scare me.”

The man hums, a deep purr that rumbles through his entire ribcage as he raises his gloved hand. You curse yourself for flinching because surely he’s about to crush your skull like a fucking grape, but no. All he does is fix your rumbled collar then pat your cheek.

“I don’t need the extra baggage.”

“I’m not baggage,” you sneer, slapping his hand away. “I can handle myself.”

“With an empty blaster?” He points out, tipping his head to the side. “Your parlor tricks won’t do you any good on this job.”

“I’m a good shot!” You sputter, placing your hands over you hips and mustering up your best glare. “W-when I have ammo…”

“Right.”

Meeting Paz Vizsla, could have gone far better, to put it into the most simplest of words. Jagged and hard to settle into a routine around each other for the journey to Nar Shaddaa in a tiny, old, and cramped freighter ship. Most cycles you have to wedge yourself beside a cargo crate to sleep. In addition to that, how it’s able to break through the atmosphere let alone fly is beyond you—an entire mystery on its own.

At least you’re able to sit in the spare seat inside the cockpit—one of the only places available to stretch your legs. The only problem is that it’s also where Paz Vizsla likes to lurk (well, not lurk—it’s his ship and it’s where he can comfortably fit but—to each their own).

There’s a net of tension still woven between you—each interaction like tiptoeing over eggshells. Though, like all things, it becomes simpler. There’s not exactly any ongoing conversations—you don’t want to pry into a life you know nothing about—it’s not your business despite the cumulation of questions that linger in the back of your mind. You know when to take a hint—not every person is willing to indulge you about their livelihood, and surely not something as secretive and well guarded as the Mandalore.

Familiarity is what you want to call it. Comfortable with each other’s presence with small talk speckled in throughout the never-ending vastness of hyperspace. Compared to the infinite turmoil in your life, slippery footholds and uncertainty—Paz Vizsla is steady. In a way— predictable and safe in the confines of this ship.

You’d even go as far as to label him kind, a friend maybe—if you look past the grumpiness and rather poor taste in corny jokes. You know it’s stupid, no doubt stemming from the deep ache of loneliness that comes hand in hand with staking it out on your own in the galaxy; but you can’t help but wish that this could be a new normal. Not some once in a lifetime thing where you both part ways, fade into the recesses of memory and leave it at that.

If things go well—and rarely do they on a job—maybe you’d pluck up enough courage to ask him if you could stay. There’s no harm in it…right?

-=-=-=-

Well—the cynical part of you was right.

It did end up in a fiery shit show.

Turns out the stupid quarry you’d been tracking excelled in long range weaponry. A former marksman for the Empire to be exact. Guess that tidbit of information wasn’t pertinent. A need to know sorta thing, if you will.

You feel the molten bolt of plasma connect with your side before your ears pick up the sound of a weapon firing, like a crack of lighting in the empty alleyway. And before your body even connects with the duracrete, Paz is returning fire. A brilliant neon red against the hazy blur of shadowy buildings.

Kinda weird how knocking the back of your head hurts worse than the literal blaster wound burned into your side. Shock maybe. Or the heat from the plasma cauterized each veins and artery it tore through and ate away at flesh and nerves. Hm…

You’re sprawled in a wet pool of something—either your own blood or a puddle of stagnant gutter water and damn—you’re wearing your favorite shirt.

It doesn’t matter at this point…

You’re choking on your own air from the big ass hole blasted into your diaphragm, so to say things are looking grim is an understatement.

Nar Shaddaa isn’t your first choice to kick the can on, but hey—not everyone gets the luxury of dying on Naboo. And just as you’re ready to slip away into that sweet, sweet abyss, it seems your fellow armored friend has other plans.

The beskar is freezing against your cheek after he deadlifts you off the duracrete—you remember that plain as day. That and the hushed rumble of Paz’s voice insisting you save your dwindling supply of air instead of apologizing to him—or ordering you to stay alive for kriff’s sake. It’s impossible to argue with Paz—like trying to bite through durasteel, and while those beckoning tendrils of eternal slumber are mighty tempting, you cling to your life with all the strength you have left. After all, inconveniencing someone with a corpse is such a party foul to the highest degree.

The rest is muddled—like dredging up silt and clay in a murky river that just leaves you with a pounding headache between your eyes. It’s a terrible mess of pain and bouts of temporary consciousness, mistaken with fever dreams and yup—more pain. The only consistent is Paz—hovering nearby or settled beside you—through thick and thin as you heal.

There’s no solid reason your brain can conjure as to why he brought you to the Covert—it’d have been easier to just dump you at the nearest hospital and be done with it. You’re not his responsibility and you’re too afraid to ask what it means. Too many possibilities—too many answers you aren’t in the mood to face or untwist.

And so you leave it be, set aside for another time—which brings you to the present day…

You’re splayed over your little makeshift cot, feet propped up on a spare pillow as you scour through a cheesy Coruscanti gossip magazine. It’s years old—the only piece of entertainment you could find other than a weapon in the Covert. And seeing as a massive hole had been blasted through your ribcage, picking up the clever art of throwing vibroblades or shooting targets to pass the time was out of the question.

Even if you’d rather fall into a Sarlaac pit than stare at the wall for hours on end yet again—it hasn’t been all that bad. It’d taken weeks before you regained enough strength to sit up on your own, let alone walk—and walking is putting it lightly. It was more of a stiff legged shuffle better suited on a two hundred year old woman seconds from disintegrating into dust at the mere hint of a breeze.

Not to mention—your right lung was all but shredded. Ripped apart from the plasma bolt and miraculously reconstructed by a more than questionable bacta tank, hopeful thoughts and well wishes. To this very day you still sound like a broken air filter.

Eh.

Could be worse.

At least you aren’t dead.

Just another setback that adds on the growing pile of reasons why never to leave the Covert. Free food, free board and mild entertainment to top it off. Paz had stayed at your bedside for the most part while you recovered—stuck with babysitting your sorry ass until you regained a bit of mobility. The times Paz hadn’t been at your side to stave off the boredom, it was up to you to find your own fun.

Snooping is what Paz had labeled it—but you saw it more as an adventure. You met Din Djarin exploring (lost is what you actually were) in the dimly lit underbelly of Nevarro, after all. Yes, you may have scared the ever loving shit out of the poor guy and yes, he may have singed off your brows with a five foot jet of fucking fire—but hey. No one got hurt.

And you made a new friend. Sorta…Din is difficult to read, subtler in his soft spoken words and quiet demeanor. A bit like a skittish loth-cat at the start, but nowadays it’s not uncommon to find him lounging in the same space as you or hovering over your shoulder, awfully curious in whatever it is you choose to do. Like Paz, Din isn’t overly fond of sharing much information about himself but he never complains after you regale tales of your own vastly fascinating past. He seems interested enough—tilts his head a tick to the right when you speak to indicate that yes, he’s listening despite the unforgiving dark line of his visor.

There are others in the Covert too—some so elusive you have a hard time believing they exist. Shadows of what they once were before the rise of the Empire. And so, you count yourself lucky that you’d been introduced to two others—Aeris Fenn, a young man nearly as tall as a Wookie, and a woman named Ives Arrey; her armor a flashy green—damn near florescent in the light.

They’re nice enough company. Aeris is a chatterbox, his wit sharper than a blade but lacking in any forethought before he speaks. Ives is the far opposite—rolls each sentence in her mouth before she voices it, but in no way is she angelic. Maker—you’d bet your entire left asscheek she’s behind each bad decision and silly shenanigans Aeris sticks his nose into. He never learns—not after a harsh chiding or cuff around the helmet from Paz or the Armorer could dampen is childlike enthusiasm or steer him away from repeating the same mistake over and over.

Though if you read one more kriffing sentence of this garbage magazine you’re about to invite chaos himself to entertain you. Good thing too because just as you sit up to find the red armored Mandalorian—Paz rounds the corner and steps into your little broom closet that hardly passes for a room.

“Paz!” You greet, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Please tell me we’ll be doing something interesting or else I might start ripping my hair out. Or maybe commit a heinous crime—haven't decided yet.”

Paz grunts and shakes his head. “You’ll be doing neither. But today we’ll be sparing—hopefully that will curve your boredom.”

You scrunch up your face. “Sparring? Er, no thanks—I choose life.”

“You breathe funny since your injury,” he says, jabbing a finger between your ribs. “And all you’ve been doing lately is laying around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you sneer, tucking your arms over your chest. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be running laps with half a lung.”

“It’s like stretching a muscle, you need to gain your strength back.” He retorts. “This will be good for you.”

You groan and flop back into bed. “I don’t wanna. I was pretty much dead like three cycles ago—cut me some slack, man.”

There’s a brief silence as if he’s mulling over your words, but he’s stubborn. You crane your head to look at him as he says your name with a deep sigh attached to it.

“Truthfully, I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.” He says it quietly, fragile even, like he’s still expecting you to tip over and die on the spot. You very well might.

You huff. “Wow. Thanks, Paz.”

You feel his heavy stare through the helmet. “What happened to you that night was a mistake. It wasn’t preventable but the least I can do is teach you basic selfdefense.”

You gripe out your complaints but you know you’ve been beat—and well, a bit of your agreement is based on guilt.

Damn it.

-=-=-=-

It’s weird to see Paz without his heavy duty gear—like seeing him naked or a crab without a shell. The only piece he continues to wear is his helmet and padded gloves and under clothes, but it’s still weird. Strange enough that it shocks you tongue into remaining still instead of bitching about this.

He leads you to a wing of the Covert you’ve yet to discover and ushers you through the doorway. The floor is padded, a bit smaller than you expected and already occupied by none other than Aeris Fenn.

It’s a whole other kriffing shock to the head seeing him without the plates and layers of fabric and beskar too. The armor makes him bulkier—fuller and much more intimidating. Now, with only his black underclothes on, Aeris could be the spitting image of a sentient tree. Willowy limbs that stick out like branches as he stretches on the padded mat. He lazily swings his head around as you greet him, his face still covered by the black beskar painted with streaks of red.

“So you choose sparring over knife throwing?” Aeris snorts. “And to think I thought of you as a friend.”

“You think I chose to be here?” You say, grumpy and still upset at the choice of activity. Really, a brisk walk around the Covert would’ve been fine.

Aeris shrugs. “Ah, and I see you’ve roped in my favorite vod. Tch, he uses his fists instead of his words to teach. I wish you luck—you’ll need it.”

You open your mouth to retort but Paz beats you to it.

“Leave.”

“I’ve just arrived, actually,” Aeris scoffs, folding his torso over his other leg to stretch. “Perhaps you could reschedule. After all—our guest is quite free most days.”

Welp—you’re perfectly fine with that. Problem solved.

You spin on your heel and make a break for it but Paz snatches your wrist and pulls you back to his side. “Aeris.”

“Paz,” Aeris mocks, tipping his helmet to the side.

Paz exhales, a long, tired sound and grovels out another plea in clipped Mando’a. Aeris languidly stands and brushes off imaginary dust from the front of his pants. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand your accent.”

“Boy—“

“No, no, it’s alright.” Aeris sighs, waving his hand in a mopey display as if he were told that his birthday party were canceled for the fifth year in a row. “I’d have trouble speaking too if my enormously thick head were cooped up in that little bucket of yours all day.”

You wince.

In the time you’ve known Paz Vizsla, he’s never been one to launch into rash decisions fueled by anger—he lets it simmer and build like an oncoming storm over the ocean. Devastating once it reaches land.

Aeris bobs his head and inspects his black leather glove, picking at a loose thread on the inseam over the thumb. He clicks his tongue. “Or'dinii—you’re going to kill her.”

Your offended scoff is ignored as Paz steps forward; jutting his chin up to even out the few inches Aeris holds over the man. “You still haven’t learned to shut your mouth, boy.”

The tension surges and crackles like a volt of electricity through the air—unresolved and ready to ignite with the sparking embers of Paz’s growing irritation. It’s not a fight Aeris Fenn will win. He’s volatile and hotheaded—but his expertise is in long range weaponry. Precise, deadly and swift—not whatever this little pissing match is heading towards.

Aeris clicks his tongue as Paz digs a fist into the black fabric of his shirt. Paz yanks him forward, the metallic clink of their helmets colliding an unpleasant scrape that pierces your eardrums. Aeris snarls out sharpened words in Mando’a as his willowy fingers shoot up to curl beneath the lip of Paz’s helmet.

In the blink of an eye, Paz lifts Aeris up by his collar and launches him across the room like he weighs nothing more than a couple of down pillows. His helmet meets the wall with a resounding clank, chipping some of the red paint outlining the visor. Ouch.

Like a kicked dog, Aeris clambers to his feet, still dazed and swaying and for a fearful second you think he’ll retaliate. But with whatever braincells he happens to possess today—he instead spits out a venomous curse that even yourself would hesitate to repeat. He leaves without another word, bristling with rage.

Your flash Paz a questioning stare. “The hell was that about?”

Paz waves it away with an irritated grunt. “His heart is in the right place but he is young. Aeris doesn’t understand his place in the Covert yet and I doubt he will for years to come.”

You frown. “Poor guy…”

Paz mutters something under his breath. “Enough distractions. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Y’know…I think that’s enough excitement for today. I think I’ll be going now—“ Your last ditch attempt at weaseling out of this is quickly thwarted the moment you turn your back.

You wheeze as the heel of Paz’s palm shoves into your shoulder blade, the force of it sending you stumbling to the ground. “Paz—“

“Go on. Hit me,” he orders. You squeak, narrowly avoiding the well aimed kick that skims the top of your scalp.

You scramble to your feet, skirting out of range of the oncoming right hook. “So you attack me instead?”

“How do you expect to catch quarries who are bigger than you?” He presses. You hiss as the points of his knuckles dig into the meat of your shoulder.

You dance out of reach and rub your arm, a dull throb flaring up in the muscle. “I dunno—electrocute them?”

“Not if they take you by surprise.”

You screech as his knuckles skim your cheek. Adrenaline pierces you veins and you wildly throw a flaky punch that wouldn’t even impress a toddler. He catches your fist with ease, his entire hand dwarfing your clenched fingers. “You can do better than that.”

You snarl and struggle to rip your hand back. “I’m a scrapper. I don’t fight.”

“No,” he retorts. You fall onto your ass as he abruptly lets go of your hand. “You’re a bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes. “Hardly—why can’t I just stay here?”

Although there’s nothing to see with that swatch of black covering his eyes, you can certainly feel the look he’s giving you. A deep sigh hisses through the vocoder. “You can stay here—“

A triumphant smile splits across your face—

“—but not without contributing where it’s due.”

You puff up your cheeks and let out a dismayed stream of air. “Booo—lame.”

He sighs again and helps you off the floor. “Even if you leave the Guild, what I’m teaching you is helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “I’ll give you a call after I use your invaluable skills to beat up some thug.”

Paz ignores your comment and turns on his heel. “Let’s go through it again. This time use your front two knuckles instead of your whole fist.”

As your eyes land over the stretch of tight fighting fabric over his back an idea pops into your head. It’s a petty move but getting a punch in is fruitless—like trying to beat up a brick wall. You don’t fancy a broken hand and your knuckles are already bruised and swollen to the point where it’s hard to bend them.

And so, without any forethought and with a running head start, you launch yourself onto him, your arms coiling around his neck. It does the job—takes him by surprise and makes him tip to the right.

Aha! Yes!

Your reign of victory is short lived, however—

He latches onto your forearms strung around his neck and yanks. And much in the same way he threw Aeris like a sack of potatoes—you’re no different. For a short stretch of time that feels kriffing endless; you soar through the air, your directional whereabouts violently ripped out beneath you and equally nauseating in the same breath.

Why you ever agreed to this—you don’t know.

Your shoulder blade connects with the mat first, leaving behind a dull sting as you roll and tumble with uncontrollable momentum. Oh, yeah—you’ll feel that in the morning.

Groaning, you thank the Maker that your body eventually settles into a miserable little pile of limbs and pain. But, it seems whatever higher power that lingers in the edges of the galaxy hasn’t decided to put you out of your misery just yet.

A bulky shadow blocks out the dim lighting overhead, and for a brief anxiety ridden moment you’re afraid it’s Paz. You roll onto your back with a pathetic groan, a beg for mercy on the tip of your tongue—but as your eyes flutter open they’re met with an entirely different man.

Din Djarin looms over you, his head cocked to the side as you blink in dumbfounded bewilderment. Ah, hell—

You swallow, a furious heat bitting at your cheeks. “Uh…fine weather we’re having…”

“We’re inside,” he states with a brief glance up to the ceiling.

You purse your lips. “Huh.”

With a pensive hum he offers his hand, you sigh and roll over, accepting his gloved hand. He hoists you up easily and adjusts your rumpled collar. “You ok?”

“Pfft, yeah,” you groan, rubbing your throbbing shoulder. “Never better.”

The low grumble of your name is a cross between disbelief and irritation. Din jerks his head, his attention zeroing in on Paz. “Are you trying to kill her?”

“She isn’t made of glass.”

“She is still recovering—“

Normally you’d intervene, but their bickering is tiring and it gives you the excuse to lie down. By the time one of them caves you’ve counted exactly one hundred and twelve weird ceiling stains. They should get that checked out.

“Very well,” Paz snarls, cutting through your wandering thoughts. “You teach her.”

Din scoffs, his shoulders drawn tight as he stomps over to your splayed out self. “Get up.”

“Geez, fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to test his patience further. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Later he’ll no doubt apologize but right now? He has to prove a point. Din cuts right to it, moves in close to place your clenched fists in the right stance and nudges at your feet until they’re a bit wider than hip distance.

“You have to get in close with a bigger opponent,” he says, stepping into your space until your fists are close enough to touch his chest. “We don’t have much range here—easier to break our guard too.”

“Right. And how would you suggest I do that?”

“You’re always beating me at cards.” Din says, tipping his head to the side. “You have a clever mind. Use it.”

“But I always cheat.” You point out, dropping your guard to swat at a stray hair.

He catches your wrists and returns them to where they ought to be. “Quick enough to get away with it.”

You make a noise of uncertainty but do as you're told. Din takes a couple steps back and with a rough order you begin.

He’s faster than Paz—bats at your guard in quick bursts and steps away when you attempt to hit back. It’s a dance almost—somehow elegant in its brutality of bruises and flashes of pain as you move around one another. Compared to Din, Paz is almost clumsy but unpredictable. Din—despite the rapidness of his attacks and evasiveness, becomes predictable.

He steps to to left—you follow. He rocks onto his toes to jab his fist forward and that’s where you find a break. Punching Din’s helmet won’t do you any good but catching the juncture of his shoulder with your elbow is completely feasible. Too bad that you’re not the only one with a clever mind.

Din uses the momentum of your attack to catapult you to the ground—his own body rolling with you in order to capture you in a headlock of sorts. This sucks. After this you’ll never be setting foot in this Maker forsaken room again.

Din tightens his elbow that’s looped around your throat as you squirm and flail, trapped against his chest. He grunts as your elbow digs into his ribs but holds steady and snakes his free arm across your front, pinning your limbs to your body in an unbreakable vice. All mobility is cut off as his knee pushes between your thighs, locking your leg out into an uncomfortable and frankly quite awkward angle.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you arch as the crown of his helmet skims along the curve of your throat; the bite of beskar frigid and startling against your flushed skin. You can see his visor out of the corner of your eye; glittering and dark like the polished obsidian on Black Spire and endless like the greedy maw of a black hole.

Your breath hitches as he shifts and curls his head closer to your ear. His voice rumbles low and deep through his chest and vibrates against the delicate cartilage. “Yield.”

However much your pride wrestles with the sensible part of your brain, it’s all for naught as you jerk your head in defeat.

In retrospect you should’ve said something—used your voice or made some kinda sound because suddenly Din’s forearm digs alarmingly hard into your windpipe. He read the stuttered jerk of your head as another pitiful act of defiance but no. Nope.

Here you are—asphyxiating.

Not exactly what you had in mind, being strangled by a Mandalorian and all—but a chokehold where you could very well die was not it.

Fuzzy darkness begins to shade the corners of your vision, lightheadedness and a curious warmth that prickles down your spine settling low in your belly. A raspy gasp manages to slip through your blocked off airway, and stars why does this feel good?

“Din—”

Paz’s sharp bark is distant above the ringing in your ears and it all stops.

You gulp in air that burns your throat like refined fire whiskey—hunched over the mat as a large palm rubs soothing circles over your upper back. You cough and roll over, sounding like a dying animal run over by a speeder then hit with a spiked club to polish it off.

You’re quickly herded into Paz’s arms and pulled into his lap. Still wheezing and attempting to recover lost oxygen, whatever Din is trying to say translates into an indiscernible hum against the ringing in your ears.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though neither of them care to listen. Like bristling wolves, snapping at each other’s heels.

“Apologize to her,” there’s not so much as a centimeter of room to argue. “Now.”

It’s nice of Paz you suppose—defending your honor and what not, but you’re not a vengeful person. It was an honest mistake and you want to explain that so Din quits looking like a kicked puppy, yet the sudden touch over your ankle stops you. All the times Din has initiated contact it’d been a friendly pat to your shoulder or ruffling you hair, and while touching your ankle isn’t exactly scandalous it’s certainly an odd place to put your hand on.

Your fingers clutch Paz’s shirt as you eye the man lingering at the bottom of your feet, his gloved thumb unconsciously rubbing patterns into the exposed skin between your boot and your pant leg. “Cyare—I’m sorry.”

You blink and lick your lips. Interesting. “I-I don’t know what that word means.”

His hand inches higher, resting on the swell of your calf. “Sweetheart…darling…loved one—“

There’s a shift—a dark undercurrent that none of you should be dipping your toes into. There’s a million and one things to say or do to sever this at the root, but are you going to? Nah.

Din’s thumb now rests over your knee, goosebumps following in his wake. “Should I keep going?”

It too hot—stuffy with both of their heavy stares locked on your flushed face. You squirm and glance up at Paz who only offers an impassive stare. Great.

“I can make it up to you,” Din continues, his hand stationary—a warm weight even through the fabric of your pants. “If you let me.”

Your mouth feels drier than the desert on Jakku. This…nothing good could come out of what Din is hinting at. This is uncharted territory—launching yourself into the great unknown without any idea of what’ll fester and grow if you agree.

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind—it’s just…it’s never been both of them at the same time. These men are short-tempered, an open flame to jet fuel with deeply seated ire woven into the very fabric of their beings. You’ve barely scratched the surface on the inner workings of their mutual hostility, but you’re bright enough to question if this will make it worse. Tinder and brittle twigs feeding and enabling the hungry flames of rivalry to spiral and consume with chaotic brilliance of a dying star—

But, oh—

Isn’t it worth taking the risk?

You suck in a grounding breath and slowly extend your leg that Din touches, gingerly skimming the toe of your shoe along the inseam of his inner thigh. “H-how would you…make it up to me?”

Din preens at your answer and shuffles closer, lifting your legs so that they rest in his lap. Devotion drips off his words like a fine liquor as he toys with the laces on your boots. “Anything—say it and it’s yours.”

Sparks of molten heat race down your spine and metastasize in your lower belly, spreading through each vein and artery like a some sort of invasive ivy. You spare a look up at Paz as he shifts.

“Go ahead, girl,” Paz assures. “Answer him.”

It’s an unspoken, buzzing sort of thing like the static air before a storm, crackling and surging with pent up energy. You all know the implications of what’s to come—but it’s your words, quiet and steady that irons that nail into your coffin.

“Take me like you mean it.”

The next few moments pass in a dizzying blur, a mess of anticipation as your shoes are yanked off, your pants following soon after and tossed into some unknown corner of the room. Paz helps you out of your shirt, a shiver wracking through your body from the chill, leaving you bare save for your underthings. Yet the warmth that seeps through his shirt and his hands that linger over your ribcage do a lovely job at making up for the cold.

Din shuffles closer and brings his fingers up to cup the side of your face, lowering his head to rest the crown of his helmet on your forehead. “Wanna touch you.”

Your breath hitches as Paz’s hands sweep up your torso, cupping and kneading your breasts. “Y-you already are touching me, Din."

Paz snorts as the rough leather of his gloves scrape over your skin and unhook your bindings. You hardly hear Din over your own whine as Paz rolls your hardened nipples between a forefinger and thumb.

“I want to feel you—without the gloves,” Din clarifies, fighting to keep your attention on him. “Will you let me?”

Maker that shouldn’t even be a question. You moan out your approval, delighted that both of them decide to slip off the padded fabric. Din touches your bare thigh the same moment Paz returns his hands to your tits and it’s exhilarating. The rasp of their bare palms against your flesh is addicting—something so foreign and warm compared to their usual armor and thick layered clothing.

You arch into Paz’s hand as it curls around the base of your throat, a tentative pressure but still heavy. “You’d let us do anything, wouldn’t you? Needy little thing.”

“Yes,” you croak, already debauched and falling apart at the seams. “Anything.”

You’re all too happy to fade away in the embrace of the larger man but the other participant is far from letting that slide. Din grabs your hand, guiding it towards the front of his trousers, the drawstrings already loose and easy to pull aside. He groans and twitches as your fingertips flirt along his navel, then curl over the waistband, tugging his pants the rest of the way down to pool around his knees.

You reach for the already impressive outline of his cock pressing against his boxers, but Paz cupping your cunt through your underwear just before you touch Din is distracting. You gasp and arch as Paz digs the heel of his palm against your clit, electrifying ecstasy zipping down your spine with each touch.

There’s a twinge of guilt after Din huffs and drags your limp wrist back to his cock, this time encouraging you to palm him by guiding your actions with his own hand until you lazily oblige. Din’s quiet grunts, gravely against the vocoder do nothing but throw more jet fuel to the fire inside your belly. The growing urge to actually touch him gnaws and corrodes the forefront of your brain. With a firm yank his boxers are quick to join his trousers and Maker—

Fuck—

Will he even fit?

Din is thick, rosy brown and flushed at the tip and beginning to curl towards his bellybutton. A bead of liquid shines at the tip, dribbling down the underside as he wraps his fist around the base of his length. He gives himself a languid stroke before he, once again, reminds your hand of what it’s supposed to be doing. Din is searing in your palm, molten and stiffening to hardened steel in your grip.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” Din hisses as his head rolls back onto his shoulders. “S-so pretty holding my cock.”

Your desperation tears at your insides, insatiable and Maker— you wanna taste him. You want to hear every little stuttered moan and feel each twitch of his hips as he claims your mouth as his own.

But before you’re able to ask Din if he’d be willing to fuck your throat, Paz grips your knee and slings your leg over his thigh, murmuring praise as he peels off your underwear. Paz’s hand snakes down to your pussy and runs two thick fingers through your already slick cunt, then delicately parts your folds.

It’s like a fucking bomb going off as his thumb grazes over your swollen clit. His forearm locks tight around your waist, keeping you in place as you arch and tremble. Paz is feather light and teasing, as he strokes over the little bundle of nerves in a painstakingly slow rhythm.

“Paz—“

He nudges your cheek with his helmet and chuckles. “You’re so sensitive, vaar’ika. Such lovely noises too.”

Paz trades in his light touches for using his two fingers instead. They form a relaxed ‘v’ shape, trapping your clit in between the digits as he massages in a steady up and down motion. You cry out, every nerve shocked and flooded with saccharine pleasure, shoving you so treacherously close to that precarious edge of release.

You have no fucking chance as a different set of fingers, leaner in length but just as bulky, carefully prod at your entrance. Din’s pointer finger slides into your cunt, quickly adding a second as your core clenches and stretches for him. The dual sensations over your clit and Din’s fingers steadily pumping and curling inside you send you hurling into that dazzling white-hot pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you cry out—a jumbled mess of their names or just nonsense— pleasure crackling out from your core and all the way down your legs. Your cunt tightens like a vice around Din’s digits, your legs twitching as your high dips into prickly overstimulation. You whine, and swat at Paz’s hand, Din pulling out his own fingers a moment later and wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh.

Your head rests in the crook of Paz’s shoulder as your breath fans across the side of his helmet, fogging up the metal where the blue paint is chipped and scraped away. The shirt he wears smells a bit like sweat but the underlying scent of him is comforting—worn leather and something crisp, like fresh laundry. You don’t mean for the words to slip out—

You know better than that, but everything feels muddled and silly and, and, and—

“I wish I could kiss you.”

It’s like dousing ice cold water on a pile of smoldering coals. A silence, petrifying and like the inhale before jumping off a cliff and into a rocky sea, ensues. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Paz shatters the fragile suspense with a rich laugh that burns away all the icy worry making itself a home in your ribcage. He moves his arm up, his fingers gripping your jaw to fix your gaze onto the other Mandalorian. “You want his mouth on you too?”

You whimper and nod, but it isn’t enough.

“Use your voice vaar’ika,” Paz hums, pressing the crown of his helmet against your cheek. “Tell us want you want.”

“I-fuck—” Paz’s fingertips sneak up your torso, rough callous catching deliciously on your skin. “I wan’t your mouth on me. B-both of you.”

Paz chuckles and releases his hold on your chin. “You’ll have to be blindfolded, sweet girl.”

Din scoffs, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. “Like she’d want to see your face anyway.”

“Please,” you mewl, turning your head to curl into Paz’s neck. It’s not ideal, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make. “I don’t care. I need—“

“Patience, little one,” Paz purrs, rubbing up and down your bare sides in a soothing manner. All it does is stoke the flames. “You’ll get what you want.”

Paz shifts, reaching for your abandoned shirt and stars—

You can feel his cock, firmer then tempered durasteel and poking into your lower back. Oh, hell—these men are going to ruin you.

You’re nudged forward, your vision going dark once your shirt is securely tied around your head. The knot traps a few hairs that pull sharp against your scalp but the measly pain is worth it. Oh so worth it.

“Is it too tight?” You hear Din ask, concern lacing his gravely vocals.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “S’fine.”

“Cant see anything either, right?”

You squirm, your patience spreading thin. “Din, please.”

“Fine.” There’s no bite to his tone and under different circumstances you’d have more composure. Acknowledge that they’re putting their religion, their whole being into your hands—a fragile trust that could so easily be shattered.

Your ears pick up their subtle movements, their helmets landing onto the thin mat with soft thunks. With bated breath you wait for them to jump into action, seize every spare moment to taste your skin and breathe the same air. But—

“You need a haircut, vod.”

“And you need to shave.” Retorts Din with bitter indignation.

“It’s hardly even stubble.” He chortles. You giggle and twist away as he scrapes his prickly cheek up and down your neck. “Besides—she likes it.”

There’s another lull, and with the blindfold everything is amplified—the quick and quiet breathing of Din on your right and the slide of fabric against skin as Paz shifts. Your attention is captured by Din’s bare palm, warm and calloused like weathered leather left out in the afternoon sun. He caresses the outside of your thigh in smooth, longing strokes, enraptured by the softness of your skin. You whimper and let your leg fall open, exposing more of your thigh for his curious exploration.

The sudden touch on your cheek is jarring. You know Paz is there—it’s not an easy thing to forget the solid chest you’re leaning against but it’s hard to focus. Difficult to settle on one thought before it slips away like grains of sand between a clenched fist. Paz’s touch is heavier than Din’s, ambitious and greedy but…mindful. Even as his fingers spread along your jaw and drag you into a deep, mouthwatering kiss. It’s…stars—

There’s nothing that can describe this. No word that could ever hold a candle up to the way his lips, plush and soft, move against yours. His nose brushes against your cheek as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, his warm tongue sliding against the seam of your bottom lip.

You whine and bury your hand into his hair as Paz groans, a low rumble in his throat. You wonder what color it is, but carding your fingers through the curls atop his head suffices for now.

Your curiosity is abruptly ended as Din’s hand snakes around your forearm. You’re forcibly yanked away, only to be met with another pair of lips. Din murmurs an apology at the sting of his teeth bumping into your upper lip, but the pain is hardly the first thing on your mind.

Din’s kiss is devouring—

Scalding and bright—the galaxy, a thousand suns, all there ever will be and all that ever was. The way his lips move against yours is a devastatingly sharp contrast to the steady, syrupy sweet kiss Paz offers. Desperate and eager to surround you in his own arms—steal away any lingering thought and replace it with him. Din Djarin—

You gasp as Din’s teeth nibble and pull on your bottom lip, only a moment before he surges closer, wrapping his hand around your jaw to hold it open as he licks deep into your mouth. Breaking for air, Din tangles his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck and yanks, baring the column of your throat. His travels down, the tender kisses morphing into teasing nips and lingering sucks that’ll turn into tender bruises in the morning.

Din hovers over your breasts, his heated breath and cooling saliva the catalyst to the goosebumps that rush over your skin. He lightly tugs on your nipple using his teeth, then plants a sweet kiss over your sternum.

“Can I taste you?” Din murmurs, his lips ghosting over your flesh. “Maker—wanna put my mouth on you.”

“Din—“ A different set of lips latching onto the juncture of your neck and hijacks your train of thought. Wipes your mind clean until Paz is the sole thing you can consciously focus on.

Paz laves his tongue over the shell of your ear and urges you to lean back against him once more. Your nose scrapes against his stubble as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his hips lazily rolling his hardened cock into your backside.

“Or…” Paz rumbles, capturing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his. You marvel at the sheer size of his palm—astounded still when he leads his and your hands to palm his cock. “I could give you this. Fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re screaming for me.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Why the fuck do you have to choose? You squirm as Din points his tongue over your nipple then sucks it into his mouth.

Working through the fog in your head, the answer is clearer than fucking crystal. Because who in their right mind would turn down a Mandalorian’s request to eat you out? Not you, that’s for sure. “Din—want your mouth.”

Din huffs in triumph and slips between your legs that part to accommodate his broad shoulders, leaving no patch of bare skin untouched and worshiped. You shiver as his tongue circles around your bellybutton then retreats. Din settles his head beside your knee and mouths a kiss there.

You whine his name and buck your hips, heart beating wildly in your ears. The teasing is unbearable and, stars—if he doesn’t start now—

He nibbles on the inside of your thigh, laving his warm tongue over each mark he leaves behind, buffering the sting of his teeth. Din snake his hands under your ass, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he heaves your cunt closer to his mouth. Din’s thumbs part your soaking pussy, his breath hot fanning over your cunt. His tongue his scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your slit all the way up to your clit.

Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through you. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—fuck. Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are obliterated; nothing but the warmth of his tongue, and his lips, devouring you as if he were a man seconds from death and you’re his saving grace. That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade into smoke—but you’re not going anywhere. Not even a million credits could convince you to push Din’s head away.

He sinks two fingers into your clenching hole and curls his fingers, stroking and curling his fingertips to make you sing. Zeros in on that little spot that causes the involuntary twitches of your leg and wrenches embarrassing, high pitched mewls that fill the room. You’re careening towards your high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Shit—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must hurt. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release unfurls through your body like sticky molasses—smoldering embers that seep into each limb until they’re heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to think and at this rate your brain is as good as gone.

You pay only a fraction of attention to Din as he kisses his way back up your body and lands a final one over your lips. His thumb grazes over your chin, his gravelly words of praise cutting through some of that foggy haze, how good you were, how fucking delicious you tasted when you came on his tongue. You taste your own arousal on his mouth as he noses your cheek and captures your lips in another kiss.

“Are you done?” Paz asks dryly, much too barbed to be thrown your way. You groan when Paz jostles your limp body as he hoists you back into his lap.

“Just starting, actually,” Din quips. “Why don’t you hand her back over? I’ve got some more things I wanna try.”

Paz scoffs and secures a heavy arm around your middle. “Greed will get you nowhere.”

“Neither will your arrogance.”

“Shut up—both of you,” you interrupt. Your voice is raw and choppy but it does the job. “Just fuck me already.”

For now their little spat is sidelined—it’s not worth ripping off that bandage of a temporary truce. There’s a chaste moment of quiet, like they’re considering tearing into each other’s throats instead, but with a touch to Paz’s thigh the standoff fizzles out.

“We need to work on your manners,” Paz suggests, curling his large, calloused hand around your neck in a loose hold. “I believe it’s please fuck me.”

Maybe if you weren’t practically a pile of brainless goo, you’d argue. See how far you can push—though this time you fold. “Please fuck me. P-please—I need it.”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer; Paz wedges a hand between your bodies to grip his cock and run the tip through your folds, soaked from you own wetness and Din’s saliva. The head of his member nudges at your entrance, and wether it’s his size or the fact you can’t see anything—you panic.

Your hand shoots out, nails harpooning into the meat of his forearm. “W-wait—you’re too b-big.”

Paz freezes and moves you up his lap and presses a kiss over you hairline. “We can stop. Just say—“

“N-no, I’m fine,” you assure, planting an apologetic peck on his stubbled jaw. Stopping is the last thing you want to do—it was just…overwhelming. A sensory overload testing the very fringes of your being. “Go slow?”

You feel his head bob in compliance as he moves you back to where you’re hovering over his cock. You relax this time, not as many alarm bells clanging through your head as your cunt flutters around the fat tip and then that glorious, first thick inch. Paz’s thumb bumps over your throbbing clit, coaxing your pussy to take him further.

“Yeah, that’s it vaar’ika,” he grunts, his breath fanning over your neck in quick pants. “Taking my cock so fucking well. So nice and pretty.”

Your pussy flutters, fresh waves of arousal hot and burning.You nearly keel over when Paz starts shallowly rocking his hips, easing your body the rest of the way down his length until the back of your thighs touch his. Maker—how the hell is he all the way inside? You can feel him in your fucking guts—

“See?” Paz purrs. He sucks a bruise into the meat of your shoulder and pushes his palm against your lower stomach, making the fit even tighter. “Fits fucking perfect.”

The noise your cunt makes pulling out and the debauched moan that filters through his vocal chords is obscene. If anyone where to walk by, well—it’s certainly not training that’s going on, for the better lack of words.

Paz holds true to his word—keeps his pace limited to deep, languid thrusts that brush up against something that makes your whole body shake—like strumming a golden chord molded to a musician’s fingers. Fuck—he’s doing all the work too. Lifting you by the swell of your hips and pulling you down onto his cock with a rough buck of his hips.

Abruptly, he slows to a gentle rocking—quick to lock you in place as you thrash and roll your hips. “Paz—n-no. Keep going. You n-need to—“

Paz silences your please with a wet, open mouthed kiss. “Our friend looks lonely. Why don’t you use that pretty mouth and suck his cock?”

Din.

You hear the man curse in Mando’a, probably some stab at Paz—

But with a pat to your outer thigh, you don’t need any more prompting—you’d give up your left hand to get a chance to suck him off. With the help of Paz, you’re eased onto your hands and knees, shocks of white-hot pleasure zipping through your core at the change of angle. Like this Paz is seated deeper inside, stabbing into each spot that makes you sing.

Fuck—your arms are shaking—only able to hold yourself up for half a click and then you’re sinking face first into the floor, ass in the air as he fucks into you. Paz clicks his tongue and wraps his arm around your front, pulling you back up from your slumped position.

“I told you to suck his cock, girl. Not take a nap.” Paz accentuates his words with heavy, well measured thrusts—the kind of force you know will leave your whole lower half throbbing and sore in the aftermath.

You whine as Paz grabs a hold of your jaw, digging into the tender joints until your mouth falls open. “Good. Keep it like that.”

Paz’s hand falls away, replaced by a softer touch. The pads of Din’s fingers hook under your chin, guiding and tempting you nearer to what rests between his legs, hot and heavy and large.

You feel the tip of his cock, flushed and pulsing, rest on your bottom lip. You lap up the beads of sticky precum with kitten licks that morph into suckling the entire head. Din grunts out your name and tangles his hand into your hair as you tongue at the ridged frenulum. He never forces you to swallow down more of him—lets you cradle the first few inches in the wet warmth of your mouth and languidly roll the pad of your tongue around him.

You want to take him deeper, let Din fuck your throat raw, but your jaw already aches. Your lips are pulled tight around his shaft, drool dribbling down your chin and landing on the mat below. You’re not sure if you could take more of him without the danger of your teeth catching or dislocating your jaw. So you manage like this—hollowing out your cheeks and and using the momentum of Paz’s thrusts to pleasure Din.

It’s frustrating—it must be each time you let his cock slip out of your mouth to breathe or the fact Din isn’t able to fucking fit his cock into your mouth. Annoying that you aren’t able to think properly to help him out a bit ore when that said brain is being fucked straight outta you, put through the wringer and then body slammed onto duracrete.

Din cups your cheek, strokes over your skin with his thumb and maneuvers himself out of your mouth. You whine and lean into his palm, his touch addictive like smoldering coals in the dead of winter.

“You want me there instead of him?” Din purrs, using the tips of his index and middle fingers to tilt your chin and drag you into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck you like you deserve.”

The profane imagery of Din between your legs instead makes you clench tight. It only takes a couple seconds and a few more feverish kisses before you’re nodding to his request. Paz mutters a swear, hesitates, and reluctantly pulls out, leaving your cunt empty and aching with need.

Din, however, is speedy—quick to hoard you to himself and yank your legs over his hips so that you’re draped on his lap. He jumps straight to the point, no fancy maneuver or drawn out teasing—just grabs the base of his cock, slides the flushed tip between your folds and sinks into your cunt. Even after your pussy had been stretched and molded around Paz’s length, you struggle to take Din’s entire cock into your aching center. It’s easier than Paz but, Maker—not by much.

You whine, harpooning your fingernails into his shoulder once he bottoms out. Din snarls a curse and latches his teeth onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder, prickly pain shooting directly to your belly. “Fucking tight. H-how—fuck.”

There’s no time to adjust before Din sets a pace, harsh and desperate—his hands digging into the flesh of your ass for better leverage. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end before it could be yanked out from under him. Din’s staggered exhales below your ear are interlaced with subdued moans that start low in his ribcage then dip into a higher, airy pitch. A delicate sound you’ll guard closer to your chest than any secret you possess for the rest of your life—precious and yours.

Din turns his head to steal a kiss. “You feel fuck—fucking good. Wanna feel you cum around me. S-squeezed so fucking hard around my fingers—“

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Heat sizzles down each vertebrae in your spine, burning up each and every cell with the brilliance of a wildfire. Stars, this is gonna destroy you.

Din’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of blistering warmth that knocks you off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs. Your nails dig into Din’s back as you shake and grapple for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.

“Good girl,” Din praises, pace faltering from just how tight your pussy squeezes and flutters around his cock. “S-such a fucking good girl for me.”

Regaining some semblance of control, you realize he’s still fucking going—still rock solid and throbbing, fucking you through the aftershocks of your release. Your arousal turns sharp, like rough cotton over a fresh sunburn as it dips into overstimulation. It’s not unpleasant but Din has to slow his hips to a delicate roll for you to recover.

In the time it takes to inhale, a different calloused hand kneads into your lower back then smoothes up your spine. A second later you feel the scrape of Paz’s stubble prick along your exposed shoulder as his tongue drags along your sweat dampened skin—all the way up the curve of your neck and ending at the shell of your ear.

You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but as Paz crowds closer the tip of his cock pokes at your other hole. With a surprised mewl, you tense and shy away—but he follows, molds his chest against your back to sandwhich you in. The hand gripping your bicep jumps to your neck and pulls your head against his shoulder.

Two of Paz’s fingers dip down the curve of your ass and brush along the puckered skin—far less jarring this time. “Do you want to be fucked here too?”

Maker—

You’re gonna fucking explode.

Stuffed to the brim already, it’s hard to imagine Paz cramming himself in along with Din. A little red light blares in some corner of your mind but it’s quickly soothed as Paz plants soft kisses over your cheek and jaw. You trust him—there’s no reason to think he’ll hurt you or push you to the point of pain.

You catch his mouth with a kiss and rock your hips back. “Y-yeah, ok. I trust you.”

You feel his smile curl against your cheek. “Don’t worry vaar’ika—I’ll take care of you.”

Paz strokes your bottom lip with his thumb and kisses the crown of your hairline as you sink into him. With his ring and middle finger, he pushes past the seam of your lips. “Suck.”

You obey, sealing your lips around his two digits and coating them in your saliva. Paz pulls them out with a pop and moves them between your legs, and with the added wetness dripping from your cunt, the first finger is easy enough. The second and third have you gasping as he scissors them and stretches your tight hole wider. You claw your nails into Din’s shirt—and he’s no better—Din’s own hands are clamping around your hips, struggling to keep still and biting back moans each time your cunt constricts.

Your hips begins to meet the thrusts of Paz’s fingers as your body familiarizes the feel of him there. It’s a deep thrill that rushes up through your spinal cord—much different from anything you’ve felt before.

“You like this, don’t you?” Paz goads, chuckling when you whine as he extracts his fingers. “I think you’re ready to take my cock, yeah?”

You shudder and nod, your voice no more than a squeak as it pilfers out. Paz strokes the top of your head and tips you forward into Din’s eager arms as Paz slicks up his length in a mix of precum and your dripping arousal. He touches the swell of you ass in warning, lines himself up with your hole and wedges the tip of his cock inside of you.

Involuntary tears dampen your makeshift blindfold as Paz buries himself deeper, his rumbling tone urging you to relax—relax even though your mind is drowning in an ocean of arousal and swirling emotions you have no hope to pin down and analyze. It’s for the best—thankful as Paz bottoms out that it wrenches you back to a feasible reality you’re able to manage.

“Shit—I-I’m gonna die—“ You sob, writhing at just how full you are. But there’s nowhere to fucking go—

“Easy,” Din breathes, and you wonder if he’s said it to keep his own head on his shoulders. “Easy.”

Din’s gravelly rasp cuts through the fog in your head, and stars—you sound like you’re fucking dying. Your wheezy breaths and lightheadedness would certainly suggest that—but no…no, you’re fine. Better than fine.

A rush so acute and devastating launches up your spine as Din’s patience cracks. He experimentally rolls his hips and that’s the end of it. You’re swallowed up in that riptide you fought so hard to avoid—fuck. You won’t be the same after this. How can you?

You can feel them both, separated by a thin wall as they sprint towards their own highs. You’re never once left empty—Din reaches the end of you as Paz pulls out and while there’s not exactly any finesse involves it’s the best fucking thing you’ve felt in your entire life. There’s no bickering—no teasing and you’re struck with an idea that makes you clench tight around both of them. You wouldn’t mind if this was the way they decided to settle scores or finally see eye to eye.

This time you can’t discern your high—just a constant overflow of ecstasy and dazzling arousal like an imploding supernova. You cry their names—sob and shake in their hold with such fervor that Paz traps you tighter between them to keep you still.

“Fuck—you get so fucking tight,” Paz growls, blunt nails digging into your hips. “And so fucking wet.”

His fingers touch the inside of your thigh and stars—he’s right. “I get to fuck your cunt next time—see how much you’ll drip for me.”

Even if the blindfold were off—there’d be nothing to see but a white wash of nothing. Blinded by pleasure and bursting at the seems.

Jealous, Din steals your breath away with a kiss, licking and nipping at your swollen lips until you whine his name. His jagged pants fan across your chin—chapped lips and patchy facial hair tickling across your bottom lip as you breath the same air.

Din whispers your name like a prayer, his fingers clutching tight around your thighs as his pace starts to flounder to choppy jerks. “Shit. I-I’m close—“

Your fingers twist into his hair. “Yeah—ok baby. Let go.”

Din’s teeth sink into the base of your throat and cums. His seed coats your insides—hot and copious and fucking shit—if there’s a next time you want him to cum in your mouth.

You don’t get time to relish Din’s stuttered gasps of your name, laced with praise and a show of a tender and bleeding heart before Paz is gathering up your hair in a tight fist and jerking your head up. “You—you want me to cum too? Say it.”

Without a breath of hesitation you beg for it, cry and arch into him. It does the trick—

Paz is loud—shouts a thunderous roar and buries his cock deep into your hole. Din is still recovering from the aftershocks of his release when Paz pulls out after what seems like ages pumping you full. His cock no longer there to plug you up, his cum begins to dribble out and mix with the mess between your legs. Your legs shake and you wobble--crying out as Din slips out, your body dreadfully empty and aching.

You're lowered to the mat by Din and if you weren't still trying to formulate words, you'd thank them. Lips dart over your cheeks and hairline, and for once nothing needs to be said. It’s nice...the radiating warmth from their bodies and the simmering flush through you body is something you could get used to. But you’re no stranger to the shifting tides of the future.

You shrug it off.

Your eyes are heavy and with one of them stroking your hair and the other your thigh, you drift to sleep. Later—later all unspoken things and disastrous words can be dealt with tomorrow. You must be dreaming when it’s said--careless and bold, but the words nestle into your heart and sprouts with fear.

“You love her, don't you?”

translation:

vaar’ika--pipsqueak

or’dinni--dumbass idiot

vod--brother/comrade

tag list:

@bobafctts @djxrxn @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aerynwrites @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @trippedmetaldetector

#happy SINday :)#pls accept some mando schlong #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla #paz vizsla #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #sw #fanfic #my writing #reader insert

2K notes · View notes

ppersonna · 4 years

Text

organic - ksj | thirteen

a social media au

↳ summary- You agree to do your childhood best friend, Namjoon, a favor by working as his boss’s gardener. However, Namjoon fails to tell you just how much of a rich ass Kim Seokjin really is. You hate him, and he hates you, so why does it bother you when his ex makes her way back into his life?

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- seokjin x reader

↳ warnings- 😬 smut, oral sex (m/f receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing, bratty!yn, brat-tamer!jin, unprotected sex (dont be dumb), aftercare (ig), lmaoooooo here we mf GO.

↳ a/n- omgomgomgogmogmogmogmomgomgogmg. thats all i gotta say yall. also, so sorry but the tags are currently being VERY BAD and i am sorry if they didnt work.

taglist-

@rjsmochii @broke-bts-stan @kookiesjoonies @sistaflubs @sombreboy @brilliantlybasicb @sugarly-laysa @absoluteyoongit @chimoona @ladyartemesia @lemonjoonah @jinsearth @tiddieshakeshownu @hannahdinse8 @imluckybitches @55west81st @xoxrinaxox @remplazable-yellowpink @lustingstae @lidda @amoreguk @deadleaves278 @devotedlywriting @koostime @fangurl-ontgeside @hauntedlilies @gukniverse @simplymemyself @alyboo-jpeg @themyscirarey @taetaewonderland @jinhitwhore @softychimseok @amberaesthetics @lovesjenmoong @bangtansbun @garii71 @sweetnspicy93

The house was empty. Too empty.

The normally chaotic space of the living room, where all the roommates and friends usually joined was silent.

You walked around aimlessly, still confused by Jin’s texts, and hoped to find someone to distract you, keep you from going into the bedroom Jin most certainly occupied.

You couldn’t wrap your mind around the man. In one minute, you’d be daydreaming about his lips and the way he felt pressed up against you. The next, you’d be contemplating methods of murder and if you could bury his body next to the freshly planted rose bushes in the back courtyard.

A sigh escaped you. No one was home. You were stuck with Jin.

You grumbled under your breath as you made your way down the lush hallway. Some friends. Didn’t even invite you out. Left you here with the extremely handsome, tempting, annoying asshole.

The door opened before you even reached your hand out to grab the handle. Jin appeared with a sleazy smile.

“Little vixen,” he said, grabbing your wrist.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

It was almost starting to get annoying.

Jin motioned to the bed. Pretty, pink lingerie lay on the luxe fabric, arranged delicately yet with full intent displayed.

“I can’t wait to see you in it,” Jin spoke. He moved closer. So close it made your throat swell up. His hands ran up and down your arm. “I knew you’d give in.”

His words snapped you out of any sensuality you felt at his embrace. Your hands pushed at the expanse of his chest.

“I didn’t fucking do this!” You snapped. “Why the fuck would I want you?”

“You think I don’t notice the way you slide in bed towards me until you’re practically humping me?”

Jin’s smirk was reaching levels you’d never seen before. He was pleased with himself, with this situation. You were sure if you glanced down his body you’d see proof of his arousal. But you couldn’t. You’d lose all ability to talk, to fight.

“Okay, I was cold! That’s the only reason!”

Jin tsk’ed and shook his head.

“Darling, it’s okay. You’re meant to be my wife, you should know how your husband performs in bed. It’s natural to be curious.”

Your hands balled into fists.

“I’m… not curious.”

He quirked his head and smiled. “No? Not even a little?”

Jin stepped towards you again, this time slower and with heat.

“Not curious how deep I can get inside you, how wet you can be for me?”

You would be lying if you said your body didn’t react, didn’t heat under his intense gaze.

“Clearly, someone set this up,” you whispered, trying to navigate the conversation away from the topic of your wet pussy.

“Did they now?” Jin asked as he played with a piece of your hair. “You sure it wasn’t all a ruse to get the worldwide handsome in bed with you?”

“You’re so arrogant,” you snapped. “You think every woman is falling on their face to fuck you.” Your words were sharp but lacked any of the heat behind it.

Jin chuckled. “That’s because they generally are.”

His fingers trailed down your face, your neck. His eyes were fixated at your collar bones, magnetized to the juncture of your throat and shoulder.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Say someone set this all up, say I believe you… you still aren’t putting up much of a fight.”

Damn.

Jin had you there.

He continued before you could speak. “It’s almost like you’ve been wanting to find out more ever since I kissed you.”

Your eyes closed in reply. The kiss. The god forsaken kiss.

“You played me.”

Jin sighed and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, eyes now level with yours.

“It’s okay to be curious. About me. About us. I think about it too.” He admitted.

It piqued your interest and made you swallow hard.

“I think about what it would be like to have your fiery little body underneath me. Trying to be big and bad and headstrong while you’re getting stuffed full of my cock.”

You couldn’t help the soft whine that left your lips, and you kicked yourself for allowing Jin to see your moment of weakness.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He asked as he moved you towards the bed. His eyes burned into yours and it felt like all the air in the room left, leaving you suffocating.

“You want me to take control, to tame the little brat inside you. I can do that, baby. All you have to do is admit you’re the one who did all of this.”

You fell against the bed with a soft thud, right next to the expensive lingerie. It was your style, your type. Even through the rage of Jin believing you were trying to seduce him, you can’t help but envision yourself in the lace and letting the man unwrap you.

“It wasn’t me,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t buy something so expensive. You know I prefer secondhand.”

Jin visibly recoiled and rolled his eyes.

“I should spank you for that. You don’t have to lie. You don’t have to save face. I know you did it, baby.”

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

Jin stared at you, eyes seeking answers in your own.

“You’re such a petty bitch sometimes, you know that?” He stalked closer to you, pushing you down into the bed. “Such a little fucking tease. You act like you hate me, yet you can’t stop looking at me. You can’t stop thinking about me. You made me get in bed with you every fucking night and still try to claim you hate me?”

He looked infuriated. It was scary as much as it was arousing.

“Don’t you fucking get that I want you?” Jin asked as he pressed a finger under your chin to make you stare him down. “Do you not understand in that thick head of yours that you drive me fucking crazy?”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel's back.

Instantly, you tugged him down and crushed your lips to his. You kissed him wildly, no finesse or skill. It’s all mouth and teeth and tongue. Jin groaned into your open mouth, and you pulled away.

“I didn’t fucking set this up,” you stated with intent. “But I will fuck you until you’re not a goddamn asshole anymore.”

He never got the chance to retort any smart-ass remark—your hands pushed him onto the bed and your hands flew to his tight, teasing jeans. Your mouths melded together again with the heat of an oven, meshing together with all passion and fire of your argument now funneled into pure, sexual charge.

Jin’s head rested on the pillows as you hovered above him, trying to tug at his jeans while maintaining a steady assault on his lips.

He chuckled, his own hands coming to assist you as his tongue explored your mouth. He pulled away to kick the jeans off, leaving him in his expensive Balenciaga tight boxers.

“God,” you groaned. You were part aroused by the impressive length pressing against the black fabric, half annoyed that his underwear likely cost half of your paycheck alone. “Fucking ostentatious rich asshole.”

Jin couldn’t help but laugh out loud, but it quickly escaped him as your hand rubbed at his hot bulge, gripping tightly and gritting his teeth to keep from moaning.

“Shit,” he sighed. “If you make me cum in these, I'm taking the cleaner fee out of your paycheck.”

You made a show of rolling your eyes, moving down his body and tugging the fabric down along the way.

“The fact that you get your fucking underwear dry cleaned…,” you sneered.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Jin’s impressive length was now free and thick and hard in your hands. His expensive underwear fell to the floor without a care from either of you as you eyed the stiff cock in your hands.

“Is it everything you’ve dreamed and fantasized of?” He tried to act cool and collected, using his bravado to mask the absolute pleasure he felt at your delicate hand gripping him tightly. He was certain he would cum instantly if he wasn’t careful.

“Hmmm,” you sighed as you gave long, languid pumps with your hand. “I mostly fantasized of kicking you here. But, I’m sure this will be a suitable way to shut you up, too.”

Jin opened his mouth in reply but cut himself off with a strangled groan as your hot mouth descended, taking him fully to the hilt at the back of your throat. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as he felt your tight mouth envelop him and suck.

Your mouth worked eagerly, licking and sucking as you began a pace. You’re determined to suck the cocky attitude right out of him. And judging by the look that crossed his face—eyes glazed over in bliss, mouth ajar in pleased disbelief—you’d say you did an outstanding job at it.

His hand moved to your head, a surprisingly gentle grasp in your hair as he held back pieces of your fringe that fell in your face. Your heart thumped harder against your chest, eyes flickering up to his to gaze at him as your mouth continued its assault on his cock.

You cursed yourself the moment your eyes locked with Jin’s. It would be easier to hate him, to think of this as a way to get back at him, if you hadn’t. Now, all you saw was the side of Jin you saw before. The sensitive, passionate Jin who kissed you deeply and held your hand through dinner. The look in his eyes now spoke more than just of sexually charged thoughts—it spoke something tender too.

You quickly forced yourself back to the task at hand. Your tongue swirled around the tip of his head. You forced yourself to see this as sex, nothing more. Your heart was too sensitive to allow other thoughts invading in. What was it that Tae always said to do? Get the dick, secure the bag?

Oh, what did he know—wasn’t the boy head over heels for Jimin, anyway?

Jin’s hand tightened around your hair, encouraging you to come up for air. Your hand kept a steady pace as your lips popped off his length.

“What? Enjoying yourself too much?” You teased as you used your free hand to wipe at the saliva running down your chin.

Jin groaned as he watched your fist still work its way up and down his slick cock.

“Mm,” he sighed and bit his lip. “Yeah, actually. I don’t wanna cum yet. Wanna save it for that bratty little pussy of yours.”

The words made your breath hitch in your throat.

In an instant, Jin had you flipped over and you were prone to him. The devilish grin on his face told you he had you right where he wanted you.

“I hope you had fun thinking you’re the boss,” he murmured as he sat back on his heels and unbuttoned his tight shirt. “Daddy’s in charge now.”

The shiver you feel run down your spine makes you feel too vulnerable, too attracted and exposed to the man above you, now completely naked. His body was cut to perfection, hard lines of his muscles exposed that made your mouth water.

“Didn’t realize you had a daddy kink.” Your attempt to sound bratty failed—both you and Jin knew it. Your eyes were still locked at the way his lower abdomen formed a perfect V line, the slight thatch of hair just above his cock.

“My eyes are up here, baby.”

Your eyes snapped up to him instantly, cheeks turning pink.

“It’s okay. Don’t be shy. Lots of women get overwhelmed when they see the worldwide handsome in the flesh like this too.”

His words rolled around in your stomach uncomfortably and you’re forced to face the reality that Jin does this—a lot. With a lot of women. And you’re overwhelmed by how jealous it makes you. You want to be the only one underneath him, the only one able to graze your fingers down his chest, the only to cry out his name.

And the thought scared you.

So, you did what you did best—ignore it.

Jin’s hard, burning gaze bore into you. His hands reached towards the tops of your jeans and you noted the way he ignored the patches of dirt on the knees from your day at work. In fact, you’re surprised he even let you on the bed in clothes that were shabby too.

The jeans quickly left your body, and Jin hovered over your legs. His hands trailed down the soft satin of your panties, barely covering your core. Your body reacted instantly, thighs moving to press together, but Jin would have none of it.

“Ah, ah,” he warned. “Don’t tell me you’re shy. You never seemed so shy when you’re biting my head off.”

“Shut up,” you murmured, allowing your legs to spread apart again.

Jin lowered himself between your thighs, fingers wrapping around the fabric.

“I see you’re wearing the panties I bought you.”

The look on his face told you he was proud of himself.

“I still hate that you made me buy underwear. Not like you were going to see them.”

Jin sent a look at you, tearing his gaze from your soaked core.

“Oh, then what do you call this?”

Your words caught in your mouth. He got you there.

“...shut up.”

Jin grinned and moved his eyes back towards your cunt, pulling your panties down.

“So mouthy. Someone needs to put you in your place.”

Your mouth opened in a gasp as the panties slide off, a string of slick arousal following it. Jin can’t help but chuckle.

“For all that big talk, you seem to be very excited.”

The desire to be touched quickly outweighed the need to hold your own. With your pussy open and exposed, and Jin’s eyes focused on it like it was his last meal, the burning desire in your stomach nearly bubbles over.

“Jin,” you gasped. “Please.”

“Now, look who’s begging.”

You wanted desperately to wipe the smirk off his face, to put him in his place, but your resolve quickly faded the closer he got to your glistening folds.

“You want me to eat your sweet pussy? Tell me you do. Tell me it’s all you’ve wanted.”

The pride in your heart thuds hard—you can’t find it in you to say it but you ache for his sweet mouth, plushy lips, harsh tongue that would spear into you deliciously.

“Jin, fuck, please,” you begged. “I can’t…”

“I won’t touch you if you don’t,” he explained. “You could be halfway to a screaming orgasm by now if you’d just suck up that pride of yours as well as you sucked my cock.”

Your body squirmed uncomfortably and his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you secured to the bed.

“Fucking say it,” he demanded and the timbre of his voice had your cunt pulsing around nothing.

You’ve finally had it.

“Please! Jin! I fucking need you! God, I always think about fucking you, are you happy?” You asked with frustration boiling over. “I think about you fucking me all—fucking—day. Please, I need you, daddy.”

Jin smirked at the sound of his honorific and knew he had you wrapped around his finger.

“Good baby girl,” he cooed.

His mouth latched onto your cunt in seconds. His hands spread the folds apart and his tongue darted out to begin a licking motion on your clit. Your eyes snap closed and mouth gaped open in silent pleasure.

“Oh, fuck!” You finally found your voice and your hands grasped at his brawny arms below you, fingers digging into his skin gently.

Jin didn’t hold back. His tongue worked your clit in a frenzy, knowing just where to suck and nibble and lick just right. You hated to admit that for all his bragging he had the skills to back it up.

Your moans encouraged him more, and his hand worked its way in, two fingers slipping into your heat. The added sensation made your back arc off the bed.

“Shit! Oh, shit!” The combination of all the sensations made you keen and your core tightens impossibly. “Oh, fuck, Jin! I’m going to cum!”

He smirked against you and kept his pace, increasing the speed of his finger as his tongue worked you to the height of your climax.

It washed over you—hard. Your vision blacked out around the edges and you’re sure you stopped breathing for ten whole seconds, before your lungs burned and gasped in for air.

Jin pulled his fingers from within you and licked them clean. The cocky aura surrounding him was gone. Now, it felt worshipful. It felt pious.

He didn’t want long before crawling up to you. His lips pressed against your own, your own unsteady breath mixing with his as you tasted your own slick on his tongue. The flavor of your cum and his mouth made you gasp.

Jin pulled away and peered down at you, his thick length now lined up at your soaked core.

“Can I fuck you?” Jin’s voice was gentle. “I have condoms, if you want....”

You nodded your head quickly. “If you’re clean, please… just fuck me like this.”

You didn’t know what came over you—normally a good rule-following type of girl, but something deep down wanted to feel Jin, all of Jin, uninhibited.

His eyes sought into yours for a moment. He held an emotion in there—one that you couldn’t quite recognize , and your heart clenched at the idea that anything other than lust flickered through his consciousness.

“Okay, I’m clean too,” he whispered as his length breached you.

Jin pressed his lips to yours as his cock slid into you, tenderness lacing the movement as he stilled inside you. He held you there for a moment, hands moving to cup your face. His hips remained motionless, and you both melted at the feeling of your bodies joining.

You forced yourself to look away from whatever emotion Jin was trying to reveal through his gaze and moved your hips slightly to encourage him.

He seemed to get the idea and quickly slid himself in and out. The feeling of his bare cock stuffed inside you, each ridge and vein dragging itself in and out of you, felt better than any sex you’d ever had.

Jin’s pace became quicker, and the tender sensuality became quickly replaced with raw passion and lust, which loosened the feeling of vulnerability you felt before.

“God, you’re taking me so good,” he gasped as he plunged himself deep into you, as if to make a point. “You’re so fucking tight and wet for me, fuck, baby.”

Your moans echoed off the luxe walls, and you threw your head back against the fine egyptian cotton pillows. As much as you wanted to hate the display of wealth, you couldn’t help but be grateful for Jin’s need for expensive fabrics. They felt like heaven against your bare skin, and the friction of Jin’s movements made them rub on you deliciously.

“Yes, fuck!” You exclaimed. “You feel so good!”

There was no need to hold back the praise, and you had no desire to either. Jin was fucking you so good that any ideas of hating him had left the second he entered you.

Jin let his head drop to your ears—whispered praises of how good you were, how fucking tight you felt. He continued as he pounded you deeply and pulled your body close to his, as if he couldn’t get close enough.

It didn’t take long for you to feel your second high coming. Jin’s cock hit just the right places, and he dropped a hand to your joined centers to rub at your clit, encouraging your climax to spiral towards the end.

His pace became frantic as he fucked you with fervor and no finesse, hips snapping and pistoning into you as deeply and quickly as he could. Idly, he realized he wished he could be buried in your cunt forever, that he’s likely never felt such a better pussy in his life. And he didn’t want to allow himself to think too hard about what that meant.

He could feel it building, climbing to an ever growing peak that he felt on the brink of summiting. His breath hitched, yours panted heavily, and he felt hypnotized by the way your cries escalated to near screams.

The chase to the end was quick, as Jin quickly worked himself up to his climax as your cunt became tighter and fluttered around his cock the closer you edged to the end. Jin groaned as the feeling inside of him snapped. It pulsed with each shot of his seed into your womb--and he groaned as he felt your walls clench around him as you soared over your own edge.

His name was the only thing you could scream as he kept his pace, allowing your walls to milk him dry. He held himself inside you, allowed him the chance to soak in the feeling of you and him mixing as one.

Your come-down from the orgasm felt slow, languid. Jin’s body laid next to you and his cock still nuzzled deep inside your walls. It felt secure. It made you feel safe, love, full. Your heart beat erratically, combined with the exertion of the act and the physical proximity of the man now lying next to you, breathing just as hard.

His arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you in tight, only allowing his cock to slip out of you after he was sure you were secure in his arms. His forehead pressed against yours—eyes seeking your own with that same, tender look from before.

No words were spoken for a moment, just the silence and combined breath of your exhaustion.

Jin kissed you, then. Deep, soft, loving. It felt too real. Too much. It bothered you how much you loved it and wanted it to continue.

“Do you,” he began, before pausing for a moment. “Do you want to maybe… stay longer than a week?”

You bit your lip, pondering his request.

Did you want to leave? Did you want to return to a life of working for the man you just let cum inside you? Could you still pretend to be his wife after experiencing this and walking away?

Did you even want to pretend at all?

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah, I think I kind of like this gaudy house.”

Jin’s soft smile turned into a smirk and his hands gripped your waist tighter.

“Next thing you know, you’ll be shopping only at Armani.”

“In your fucking dreams, daddy.”

#bts smut #bts social media au #seokjin smut #bts sm au #bts fake texts #bts fake chats #bts imagine #bts texts #bts fics #kim seokjin smut #bts kim seokjin #bts seokjin #worldwide handsome #organic sm au #organic social media au

696 notes · View notes

readbythestarlight · 3 years

Text

c2e141 (part 1)

Okay this is so long I’m splitting it into 2 parts pre and post break so I don’t just end up with something horribly long that clogs up the dash

I’m already emotional just over the intro you guys i’M GONNA MISS THEM SO MUCH

"Skin cradle idk what to call it" how about NOT THAT MATT

[[MORE]]

Home!!

AWWWW

Clarabell!!!

I’m so glad his family is all there and safe

Awwww that’s so sweet, showing him the cards <3

"Hey Molly! Go fuck yourself!"

M: :D

Poor Essek is so lost

A night’s rest yes that would be good for ALL of you

Also it’s time to fake his death

"And will you face the consequences of your actions, or run?"

"I need a night’s sleep first, if you don’t mind."

That’s fair

I’m worried tho

Cad

Cad this isn’t allowed to be goodbye

Not yet

Not this early into the episode

Don’t do this to me

Okay, if they’re all gonna stay that’s okay that’s fine

I mean yes go see

Oh no wait

This

We can’t split up this early y’all I can’t handle it

Yes good bring them here don’t split up

So many HUGS

Oh no

Plz don’t

Please choose to stay, Frumpkin!!

Stay??

No!!

COME BAAAAACK

godDAMMIT

30 minutes and I’m already crying

At least Marisha is crying too I’m not alone

"I needed him when I needed him. That time has passed."

Please adopt all the stray cats

"The last couple of years" baby it’s been less than a year canon time

"YOURE a good person"

"I could be"

"You are"

"There’s just a little more to do"

"She’s not wrong. Trust me, I know a few bad people, you’re not one of them." ESSEK

I’m gonna cry AGAIN

"I think you’re a good person" THAT’S IT IM GONE

Aww Molly bringing them flowers

They have a valid point though, like is this Molly anymore?

Jester curling up next to Fjord I cry they’re so cute

"Hey Fjord? I love you"

AKDLALSKAKA YALL

ITS SO CUTE

I can’t handle them

Veth going swimming?? Willingly??

SAM

The DM will remember that and Sam’s character will be the first to die next campaign

"There’s not even any bugs? That’s not meat"

Fjord is describing my entire week rn

Clarabelle is the sweetest

I’m gonna miss Jester’s messages xD

Jester omg I can’t breathe

Yeza is gonna be so worried

"Okay… ‘honey’. I think I know who this is but I take it as good news" I LOVE HIM

Mollyyyyyy?

MOLLYYYYY??

Woman?? In a red?? Coat?

Sad angel okay yeah

Y’all need to give him some TIME you can’t just fix this super fast

Awww he remembers Yasha a little that’s good

Poor Molly

What woman??

WHAT WOMAN??

Is it his goddess?? The moonweaver?

He’s gonna change his name to King Tealeaf lol

Why don’t y’all chill and let him pick his own stuff and figure his own stuff out

He wants a parasol lol

Travis like what even is a parasol lol

So like

We’re not actually getting Molly back in the end huh

Oh boy temporary splitting up

lol Yasha with the "I can definitely message you"

Y’all can’t just bamf into places like that lol

Oh dear please don’t walk in on your parents

Dad aaaaaaaaand? Is mom there? Momma? Are you theeere?

AYYYYYYYY

NICE

MARION AND THE GENTLEMAAAAAN

THE PARENT TRAP WAS A SUCCESS

I’m so delighted

Y’all had better get married by the end

They’re so sweet I love Marion and Jester bless Laura and Matt for giving us a healthy parent/child relationship

LUC lol

Poor Yeza is probably going prematurely gray dealing with this lol

"I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, it was—it was mostly flesh" I almost shot tea out my nose

"Dad I won’t sink to the fucking bottom"

Oh dear

That was the most accurate child thing Matt has ever done

Marion is the queen of this place she doesn’t need your cemetery Jester lol

I love the way things turned out with the Gentleman it’s so soft

Jester sweetie you literally told him NOT to say anything back

I’m emotional y’all

Fjord like Jester babe NO

FUCKING HELL

I’m going to stab this bitch myself

YOURE a tragedy

Fuck you Ikathon the answer is NO

Oh my god okay are we doing this

We’re doing this

HES HERE??

HOW??

How did he know they were there???

And Veth just brought her family there too

That MOTHER FUCKER

I can’t believe I’m getting my wish for them to fuck up Trent after all

Fuck fuck fuck how many people can he transport out??

Also you can’t burn down Cad’s home!!

Oh god Essek is going to have to face him too

There’s too much going on here I’m STRESSED

Does he have dunemancy magic?? Is that what that is?

"We had issues larger than your ambitions" OOOO BURN

Suck a dick Trent

"Erase these errors, so I don’t have to look at it" FUCK YOU

What is happening holy shit

What is this????

Run Luc and Yeza run!!

Poor things :(

Poor Caliope

Poor Clays

Essek booiiii

Oh my god I looked at the stats on this spell and it’s BAD

THE COLLAR

What

Wilting what what what

Counterspell

Thank god

NOOO

53?!

IN ONE HIT??

AND HES SPOILING THE FOREST TOO

NO NOT AT JESTER

FUUUUUCK

Oh my god he rolled BAD thank god

I was just saying thank god he’s alone at least but NOPE

Astrid had better not wait in the shadows to see who looks like they’re going to win and then only joining the winning side

Caleb protecting his maaaaaan

FUCKING STOP

DID HE COUNTERSPELL

THAT BITCH

THAT FUCKING BITCH

NO NO NO

they’re so FUCKED

Thank fucking god

COUNTERSPELL PLEASE WORK

YESSSSS

I don’t care what Astrid’s game is I’m tired of it and she needs to die along with Trent

And so does Wulf if he’s gonna play the same game

Come onnnn Wulf do the right thing

Mood, Fjord, mood

MARISHA xD

Ooooooh nice!

“Caleb’s produce flame” her one wizard spell is a Caleb spell omg

FLUFFERNUTTERRRRRR

Nice SHOT Veth

WHAT

Come ON

Why can’t they hit him??

Come onnnn Essek do something baby

Oooooo! So what does that mean?

Does that mean when one takes damage the other does too?? That’s amazing

Caleb noooooo

Thank god

Hits??

COME ONNNNN

Ouch

Okay but the stars haven’t done as much damage as they COULD yet which is good

STOP calling him Bren

Fucking HELL come on

WORK?? WOOOORK???

DID IT

YESSSSS

YEAAHHHH CALEB

Oh thank God

Too little too late bitch

Wulf is gonna die though I can feel it

A second shield UGH

No you stay AWAY from Caleb

Come ooooon Jester!

YEAH

Nice!

“Come ooooon!” Boy you’re tethered either way

I have a feeling we have too much time left until break for the collar to work but GOD I hope it works

E: “Caleb! I’m scared!”

I shouldn’t be laughing but I am

VETH NOW

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

PLEEEEEASE

God god god

Godddds

come onnnnnn

IT WORKED

IT WORKED IT WORKED IT WORKED

ITS ON HIM

ACTIVATE IT

A C T I V A T E I T

NO NOPE NOPE NOPE

COUNTERSPELL IT FJORD

DO IT

YAAAAAS

Good Wulf smart man

Ouch oh shit Caleb no

Oh NO

Caleb!!

Wulf, Astrid, soembody DO

CADUCEUS MY MAN THANK YOU

What does Caduceus say to the god of death? NOT TODAY (respectfully)

70 HP niiiiice!

Hot DAMN Veth nice call I love it

Oh come ON

Activate it!!

I still hate Astrid but fine

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

#cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #critical role #emi watches critical role

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slightlymore · 4 years

Text

Professor Jaemin | Part 2

This is part 2 of the prof Jaemin fic, it’s not a real series so you can read them both as one-shots Warnings: the same as part 1 and very dirty overall lol yall asked for this

It was very late in the day. Your shadow looked wide on the tiles of the corridor, walking up to Jaemin’s office. Somehow you were hoping he wasn’t there anymore, that he went home already, so embarrassed to actually look him in the eyes. But your legs were still moving, subject not of your rational brain, but of the pulsating core that drove you insane.

You eyed the door, and only that was enough to make your body shiver, thinking about what you’ve done in that office just a few days ago. On your knees, with your cheeks cupped by his big hands, you let his cock inside your mouth until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged but tightened your lips around him, showing him that you weren’t giving up yet. The expression he made as you sucked on him, was something you’ve never witnessed before. It made you wet and his praises, with that deep and rough voice of his, weren’t helping at all. You did your best, letting your tongue around him, even if the corner of your eyes started to get wet, even if you started to whine as he was too big even for your mouth. So he stopped and came out of your grip slowly, with a little strand of saliva connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock.

You looked up at him with big eyes, as if asking if you did something wrong. “It’s alright, baby,” he said. “Come” he ordered taking you by your hand and dragging you into his arms again. He was much taller when standing so when he leaned in to kiss you, you whimpered in his hold, tiptoeing to reach him. He kissed you slowly, savouring the taste of your tongue, while one of his hands caressed your spine and unclasped your bra. You had no idea what he had in mind and you wanted to ask him why he didn’t fuck himself in your mouth. But you couldn’t as he didn’t let you one single second to breathe. When he broke off the kiss you were full-on panting and the only thing you could do was to let him take off your shirt, feeling like a little girl. When you realized that the bra was coming off as well you panicked and pressed your arms around your torso. You heard him chuckle. “I want to see you” he just said and you felt your limbs weak. He took your hands into his and uncovered your chest, making you whine in embarrassment. You couldn’t look at his face as he hummed deeply, staring at you. When you felt his hands palming your soft breasts you moaned, unaware of how sensitive your nipples were, and you looked down, at how your skin filled the space between his fingers when he squeezed down. And then he sat down on his chair and tugged at your body by grabbing your hips. “Kneel down again, baby” he ordered and you finally looked at his face and gulped seeing his dark pupils. You went down on your knees, between his thighs and eyed his hard cock resting upon his lower stomach. “No,” he said, sensing what you wanted to do with it. So you waited, like a good girl, to see what he had in mind, your legs squeezing against each other, so close to having another orgasm just by looking at him. He took his own cock himself, stroking it slowly, and you watched his veiny hand going around it as if it was your pussy doing that. You didn’t notice you were biting your lower lip until he touched your face with his free hand. “Do you like what you see?” he asked and he didn’t quite finish the phrase that you replied that yes, you loved it, and you wanted to taste it again. “Please” you added. Jaemin looked unfazed at your words but you could see his cock twitch in his hand as getting even harder, if possible. So he didn't waste any more time. He let himself go and grabbed your arms, making you come as close at to touch your nipples with his cock. His hands then wrapped your boobs, squeezing them together, and letting his cock slide in the middle. You whimpered loudly, as if getting pleasured yourself. Your hands soon replaced his, quick to learn what you were supposed to do and he rested his back on the chair, eyes trembling, and you knew that he enjoyed it a lot. “You’re so good, baby girl” he whispered as his chest rose every second more quickly than before. The compliment got to your head and between your legs and looking at him straight in the eyes you let your tongue out, trying to catch the tip of his dick. He opened up his lips, breathing with his mouth now, not expecting it. “Who would have known you could be so dirty, princess” he commented, moving his hips, humping your breasts, letting you lick him every time his dick poked out of them. You desperately wanted to touch yourself, old and new wetness dripping on your thighs, but you went on, wanting to see what kind of face he would pull as he would cum on you. It didn’t take too long. You knew he was close the moment he grabbed your face with both hands and shoved his thumb inside your mouth, fucking himself with no real rhythm anymore. You took his finger in, sucking on it, letting him know with your eyes that he could do whatever he wanted to you. Then he went completely still while sharply breathing between his teeth. You watched as he finished on your breasts, hot cum coating your skin and dripping off your hard nipples. You thought about that image the whole night after you went home and rubbed yourself on your pillow. And now you were there again. His door was open and you had to peak with your head, hiding a little on the side, afraid he was busy working, or, worse, busy with somebody else. He was alone though, standing in front of his desk, hands full of paper as he stacked them on top of each other, as if cleaning it up for the day. You closed your eyes as if building up the courage and breathed out. Then you knocked. His head jerked towards you instantly and his eyes widened a little seeing you. It gave you force to open your mouth and talk. “Hi, can I come in?” you asked and you hated the way your voice came out trembling. He didn’t reply for a second and you almost saw the way his brain geared to think about what on earth you were doing there. “Y/N” he just commented and, fuck, you loved how your name rolled on his tongue. It did not help your problem at all. You did have a plan for your visit, in case you sensed him not wanting to let you do what you came there for, but you really wished to not use it. “I have a few questions” you explained yourself as you walked in a few steps. “About the class” you added but then your hand, as if it wasn’t yours, grabbed the door handle and closed it after yourself, locking it. Jaemin looked at your movements and his lips curved in a little smile. He coughed as if trying not to laugh and put down the paper he was holding. “What are those questions about?” he asked then, resuming his position from before, knowing damn well that you didn’t care about the class. You walked towards him slowly, your blood boiling underneath your skin full of adrenaline and desire. “I wanted to ask-” you started when you were close enough to touch his chest, “-if I could suck your cock, professor” you finished quietly. His breath hitched at your words and you could see his eyes visibly widen. You tried to maintain a certain composure, as if playing with him, but your burning cheeks probably gave away your true feelings. “Mm” he hummed as if very interested. “You could” he agreed. “But-” he started to speak again raising one finger as if actually talking about school material, “-I have something better in mind” he added. One second you were standing in front of him, and one second after that you were feeling the rough wood of his desk on your face. “Well well well” you heard him say, staring at how your skirt was barely able to cover your ass, revealing your bare pussy. “Someone came prepared” he talked again and although he looked cool about seeing you bent over his desk while not wearing any underwear, you could sense the way his voice dropped seeing you that way. You looked over your shoulder biting down on your lip, feeling your pulse between your legs growing every second. You saw him staring at you as if looking at an art masterpiece and then at his hand as he reached to his collar to loosen his tie. You hoped to see that hand go down and unbuckle his belt, but instead, it rolled up his sleeves as if getting ready to sit down for dinner. And that’s exactly what he did. Your fingers tightened so hard on the edge of the desk when he kneeled down and grabbed your ass, taking your pussy lips inside his mouth as if making out with it, that you got white knuckles. The little “oh-” you throat did, became a louder and messier sound as he started to lick on your clit, slower, then slightly quicker, until it became so fast that it felt like vibrations. You were so wet that the sounds he was making felt like the dirtiest thing you’ve ever heard in your whole life, making you blush all over for being so needy. And you were in fact so fucking needy that it took you no time to start moaning his name, cumming on his tongue as he fucked you with it. Your head was empty, your lungs released all the air all at once and your legs didn’t seem to want to stop from shivering all over. But he didn’t stop. His wet tongue kept moving inside of you, making you jolt, spreading you with his fingers to get even more. “Sir- please, sir” you found yourself moaning, not knowing yourself if you were telling him to stop of begging him to continue. He did whatever he wanted though, choosing the overstimulation route until you started to whimper so loudly that he finally stopped. You wanted to look at him, to see what he was trying to do, but as you raised your head, your felt your face wrapped by his fingers and a soft but tight fabric on your lips. You inhaled sharply as he made you open your mouth and shoved his tie inside of it. “We don’t want people to come and knock on the door, trying to see what’s going on, just as you’re about to cum on daddy again, do we, baby girl?” he asked with a rough but amused voice. You hummed, trying to tell him that you didn’t want that, but couldn’t quite do it since he was already between your legs, hands kneading your ass, face buried deep inside of you, his throat letting out deep growls on your oversensitive clit. After you came the second time, more violently than before, if possible, he finally let you go and rose up on his feet and took his tie away. You felt so weak and exposed, and so fucking shy now that the orgasms washed away all the fog from your brain, that you whimpered when he made you stand on your feet as well. You didn’t have any force so you telepathically thanked him when he made you turn around and sit upon the desk. He nudged at your face with his nose and he let you taste yourself on his tongue while getting between your legs and trapping you there, by putting his hands on the desk around you. You let your hands run on his arms, feeling his tense muscles and then you brought them up to his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck and bringing him even closer to your lips. But at the sound of his belt getting unbuckled you jolted, knowing where this was going. “I don’t think I can’t take it anymore, sir” you whispered against his lips. “Mm” he hummed, as if disappointed. “Isn’t this want you wanted, baby girl? To get fucked by my cock until you forget your own name?” he asked with a piercing gaze. “Y-yes” you replied back, stuttering on your words as you choked suddenly hearing him speak like that. “But” he spoke again, “if you don’t want me to stretch that little tight pussy of yours and hit it deep inside, I won’t” he added moving as deciding it was enough. “No-” you stopped him, alarmed, grabbing his shoulders and tugging at them as to come back close to you. “Mh?” he resumed his position, looking at you with inquisitorial eyes. “I want it” you explain with a little voice, brave again by the new burning sensation forming inside of you. He looked at you, lips swollen, teary eyes and panting, so full of desire, that he let a little whimper escape his throat as well. “Tell me if it’s too much” he spoke again, and you could hear his arousal mixed with a certain worry, as if caring about you, and it was so hot that you found yourself tugging at his hips as if urging him to get it over with and just do it already. He didn’t let you try again and aligned his cock to your entrance, coating it with your wetness as he slowly humped your folds. You were about to tell him to give it all to you, eager to feel him deep inside, but as soon as he inserted the tip you felt as if there wasn’t any more air to fill your lungs with. “It’s too much” you yelped and Jaemin chuckled stopping himself. He remained like that, nudging at your neck with his nose and pressing little kisses on your skin. “Relax your muscles, baby, accept me” he ordered softly. You bit your lower lip, trying to focus and to unclench, making him slide a little bit more, not without stopping yourself from digging your nails into his back and holding him tight against you. “That’s it, baby, you’re great, a little bit more” he purred inside your ear, while his hips narrowed the distance between your bodies. “Look at you, such a good obedient little girl, taking me so well” he continued whispering until he hit your deepest spot with a grunt. He was panting as well, face buried inside the crook of your neck, little beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You can move, daddy,” you said with the littlest voice and you soon realized what his weakness was, seeing him suddenly thrust into you with no warning, making you cry out. “Yes, daddy” you breathed out, as he was knocking the air out of your chest with his quick and deep movements, “yes, please, don’t stop” you whined again. He raised his head to look at you in the eyes as if not believing it was really you in front of him at that moment and you clenched around him seeing his dark gaze, so hungry and so aroused. Then he grabbed your neck and put your body down on the desk with a loud thud. It didn’t hurt but the movement was so intense and dirty to make you moan loudly. He grabbed your thighs, dragging you closer to himself while his hips never stopped hitting it hard.

#jaemin smut #jaemin #nana #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct #nct dream #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin oneshot #jaemin fic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fic

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [62]

iv. pandora’s box

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of injuries, torture, violence and explosions, anxiety.

Summary: Diyoza and the Eligius prisoners agree to help you open the bunker, but none of you are prepared for the danger you let out.

a/n: who needs a distraction? mayhaps you’d like to read one of the most highly anticipated chapters of sub rosa??? i feel like yall have been waiting on this for ages! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You pull your eyes open with a groan, staring at a gray wall in front of you.

Your brows pull together in confusion, trying to remember where you are. Your jacket is off and tucked beneath your head, a cool breeze floating over your skin. You feel a throbbing pain in your left shoulder, and you reach up to touch it, fingers brushing over a bandage. You remember the bullet, and someone, a guy, stitching you up. You close your eyes tight and try to remember, forcing your brain to push through the cotton packed inside of your head, making everything feel fuzzy.

Handsome guy, young, all black outfit...Shaw. Shaw took your bullet out and patched you up. After Clarke showed up. You sit up abruptly, remembering that your twin was with you, and look around, searching for her. But whatever room you’re in, she’s not in there with you, and you lower yourself back down, too drained of energy to continue sitting up. Okay, Clarke showed up, and then the prisoners thought you were lying and then...the collar. Your fingers reach up and brush over your neck, relieved to find that the shock collar is gone, no longer locked around your neck.

Your neck, however, still feels tender, the memory of the collar bruised into your skin. You start to think again, things becoming clearer, falling into place. You were being tortured outside but that all stopped when something happened. Bright lights, Clarke sitting up nervously. The rover. Madi showed up with the rover. You feel a rush of shock at the memory, and you know you’re missing something. A big piece of the puzzle, just out of reach. Taller, older, a man. Rush of affection, Bellamy?

You shake your head, knowing that can't be right. Bellamy is stuck in space, away from you, and you’re stuck on the ground, away from him. Still, you start to swear you see him in the flashes of your memory, and you can't shake the feeling that he was there. Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the beep of the door behind you, and you freeze in place, terrified of who is going to walk inside your room. You hear a pair of feet shuffle away, and you turn, hesitant, shocked to see Bellamy standing in the doorway of the room you’re in. You stare at him in surprise, watching as he runs over to you and sits down beside you, helping you to pull your body upright into a sitting position.

Your eyes rake over him in shock, taking him in, and his familiar scent floats towards you, flipping a switch in your brain. Tears instantly rise to your eyes, and you jump towards him, pulling him into a hug. The two of you cling to each other desperately, holding tight, afraid to let go, and you finally let yourself believe that he’s actually here with you. You whisper, “You’re really here.”

He pulls away to look at you, expression heartbroken, tears also in his eyes. The two of you stare at each other, crying, the emotion of the moment almost too much to handle. His eyes land on the bruise on your cheek, and then to the bruise on your neck, before landing to the corner of the bandage that covers your shoulder. His expression drops and he tugs you forward, pressing your foreheads together, his hand resting on the back of your neck lightly. You revel in his presence as you cry, too overwhelmed to say or do anything else. The moment ends when you hear the shuffling of feet by the door, and when you look up you see Clarke standing there, relief all over her face.

She walks over to you and pulls you into a hug, both of you thankful to still be alive, before she releases you and hugs Bellamy, just as shocked to see him as you are. As soon as she pulls away, she whispers, “Madi?”

“She's safe. She's in the woods with the others. Diyoza won't look for them as long as we're in control.”

You look at him, your heart bursting with joy. “You're all still alive? Murphy, Monty, Raven?”

“Echo and Emori.” He nods, looking between you both, trying to convey his appreciation. “The two of you saved us all.”

“And now you're home.” You smile at him, still in shock, and he smiles back. Clarke looks back towards the open door, and looks at him in confusion. “Wait, why'd she release us?”

“We made a deal. She agreed to open the bunker.” You and Clarke look at him in happy surprise, shocked to hear the words you never thought you’d get to hear. Bellamy looks between the two of you as he grabs his radio. “Raven and Murphy are up on their main ship, waiting to hear from us. We used their fuel to get down, but as we were loading it up, we stumbled upon the rest of their prisoners, sealed up in cryo chambers.”

“So the sleeping prisoners are our leverage?”

“Yes. If Diyoza backs out on her word, we call Raven and they pull the plug, killing them all.” He holds the radio up, showing it to you both. “It’s time to check in, if you guys want to join in?”

“Yes!”

“Of course!”

“Raven, can you hear me? Come in.”

“Tell me everyone's okay.” You and Clarke share a smile at the sound of her voice, her words reminding you of the radio call you all shared after Clarke destroyed the City of Light.

“Everyone's okay. We reached a deal with the people from that ship, and, by the way, the Laser-comm's an open line, so they can hear every word we say.”

Your grin widens at the sound of the next voice, comforted by the jokes of the cockroach. “Nice to meet you. We're not bad people, we-”

Bellamy cuts Murphy off, practically rolling his eyes. “Raven, keep him away from the radio.”

“Copy that.”

“Anyway, they know the rules, but just to be safe, Colonel Diyoza, here they are again. If anyone tries to get around your security, you pull the plug. If anyone does anything that wasn't agreed upon, you pull the plug, and if you don't hear from me every hour on the hour, you pull the plug.”

“Is that all?”

Bellamy looks over at the two of you, smiling. “No, that's not all. Some people here want to say hello.”

He hands the radio to you, and you press the button with a smile. “Raven, Murphy, it's really good to hear your voices.”

Clarke adds, “We weren't sure we’d ever get to hear them again.”

Raven’s voice sounds shocked when she answers, and you can only imagine the expression on her face. “The twins? I don't believe it.”

“Jeez, and they call me the cockroach.”

You, Bellamy, and Clarke all laugh at Murphy’s quip, and you feel a pang in your chest, finally getting some semblance of normalcy that you’ve longed for in the last 6 years. Clarke answers, “You guys just be careful up there, okay? We'll talk more once this is all over.”

You add, “We want to hear everything!”

“Okay, but first,” Raven’s voice is shaky, and you can tell she’s crying. “Thank you for saving our lives.”

“We miss you both.”

Bellamy puts a hand on your shoulder and whispers, “We’ve got to go.”

You and Clarke nod, and you pass the radio back to him. “Raven, stay safe. We'll talk soon.”

“Yeah, every hour on the hour.”

As soon as they sign off, Bellamy reaches out for you and Clarke both, taking your hands and leading you out into the hall, towards a row of seats situated along the wall. “We’re scheduled to take off as soon as the check in is complete. They’re going to use the transport to remove the rubble, and they’ll use their mining equipment to blast a hole into the ceiling.”

You and Clarke nod, allowing him to lead you both to the seats, all three of you strapping in. Almost as soon as you're secure, the transport takes off, lifting into the sky and flying towards Polis. You, Clarke, and Bellamy sit in silence for most of the trip, too much to say with not enough time, but eventually he asks about the time you spent trying to dig the bunker out, and you and Clarke pass along the story. As you tell the story, the prisoners use the weapons and the transport to clear the way to the door, before landing the ship and coming to get you. Diyoza, along with McCreary, leads you out and to the door, setting up a rig to lower all of you down into the bunker through the hole they have now blasted into the ceiling over the atrium of the bunker. Bellamy volunteers to go first, eager to see Octavia, and he stands patiently as they harness him up.

He turns to look at you as they prepare to lower him down, and you see a look of fear pass over his face. You smile, reach out, and grab his hand. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He nods, and they lower him down, already hooking you up to the second harness, making sure Bellamy is out of the way as they start to lower you. As you descend from the bright sky above into the bunker below, you’re shocked at how different the bunker looks from the last time you were in it over 6 years ago. The atrium is dark, lit mostly by torches, and a fence now surrounds the walkway. You see a chair as you’re lowered inside, and it reminds you of a throne, solitary and commanding. As you near the last few feet to the ground, you see weapons attached to the fence around the atrium, and you swear you see blood staining the floor around you. When your feet finally touch the ground, you see Bellamy nearby, held tight in an embrace with Octavia, who also looks entirely different from the girl you left behind.

Her hair is shorter, her clothes a lot more reminiscent of those worn by Grounder royalty and Commanders. She has red war paint stretching from her eyes to her hairline, making her whole forehead a blood red color. As soon as she sees you touch down beside Bellamy, she pulls away and steps over to you, pulling you into a hug. You smile despite your shock at the changes, genuinely happy to see her. When she pulls away, you can see that she’s smiling too. “I’ve missed you, sister.”

Her smile widens, “And I’ve missed you.”

She looks away as someone else is lowered behind you, and you look up to see Clarke on her way down. Bellamy walks over and helps you out of the harness, tugging on it to let them know they can pull it back up again. It retreats and Clarke finally makes it to the ground, disconnecting from the lead and tugging on it before walking over to greet Octavia. They don’t hug, they just grip each other’s arms in the way of the warriors, before you all look up at the current descending figures. Diyoza and McCreary are lowered into the space, looking around at everything in shock, and Octavia looks at them with a glare. “Who are they?”

Diyoza turns to her with a serious look. “We're here to rescue you.”

“Why are you armed?”

Octavia walks towards the woman, and Bellamy reaches out for her, holding her back. “O, it's okay. We have an understanding.”

Clarke steps forward, looking between Octavia and Indra, who has now joined your small group. “Before we get to that, where's our mom?”

“I'll take them to their mother.”

Clarke nods at Indra in thanks, both of them already walking away, and you turn to look at Bellamy, not wanting to leave him behind. But he gives you the same reassuring smile that you gave him a few minutes ago, and he whispers, “Go, I’ll come find you.”

You nod and turn and jog off after Indra and Clarke, catching up with them quickly as they lead you through the bunker and to a door down an abandoned hallway. Indra unlocks it before stepping inside, motioning for you and Clarke to wait. You stand at the open door with Clarke, both of you hearing your mom’s voice from inside. “Is it over?”

“He's alive...for now.”

You and Clarke exchange a look, unsure who she’s talking about, but you don't get time to ask, because Indra motions for you to come in. You and Clarke walk inside together, greeting your mother at the same time. “Hi, Mom.”

She turns towards you both, her jaw dropped in shock, not sure she’s actually seeing you. You and Clarke kneel in front of her, and she lifts a hand to each of your faces, confirming that you’re real, before she pulls you both in for a hug. “My girls. How? When did you-”

Indra cuts her off, “We should move, now.”

You and Clarke pull away, and Clarke smiles at your mother, tears in her eyes. For the first time, you get a good look at her, and worry crosses your features instantly. Your mom looks exhausted, dark bags hanging low from her eyes, and her skin is pale and clammy. You glance at Clarke, and you can see the same worry on her face, but she ignores it and whispers, “Everything's gonna be okay, but first, we have to get you out of here.”

All three of you stand, and your mom turns to Indra. “What happens to Marcus?”

You look at her, brows pulling together in confusion as you remember the “he” she was asking about moments ago. “Kane? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“He was arrested for something he didn’t do, and sent into the fighting pits.”

You and Clarke exchange a confused expression, before you turn to look between your mom and Indra. “Fighting pits? What the hell are you-”

“There’s no time to explain now.” Indra’s words cut you off, before she turns to your mom. “I'll get him to the ground. After that, it's up to you.”

Indra turns and walks from the room, leading the three of you back towards the atrium. Your mom stops her so she can grab her medical bag, and you turn and look back towards the exit, eager to reunite with Bellamy. Clarke squeezes your hand and smiles at you. “Go be with him. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You squeeze her hand and smile back at her. “Thank you.”

You jog back to the atrium, the sound of chanting growing louder as you get closer. You’re just outside the doors when you make out the words, “Kom folau, oso na gyon op.”

From the ashes, we will rise. You smile at the words as you step into the room, eyes lifting to see Octavia rising through the air, up towards the ground. You make your way over to Bellamy, noting the worry on his face, but it fades as soon as he sees you moving closer. He smiles at you, motioning for you to step up and be the next one to the surface. You stand there as he hooks you up in the harness, in disbelief that the two of you are standing this close, breathing the same air, smiling at each other. As soon as he has you hooked up, McCreary hooks Bellamy up, and both of you are lifted from the bunker, followed by the same chant as before.

You, Bellamy, and Octavia spend the next few minutes greeting everyone that is brought to the surface, including Clarke and Indra, your mother staying behind to wait with Kane. After a while, Miller is brought up, and he grins at you and Bellamy, both of you grinning back at him. “Thank you.”

Bellamy pulls him onto a hug, “It's good to see you.”

When Bellamy pulls away, he sees a gun at Nate’s side and his face falls into one of disappointment. Nate’s expression falls a little, clearly not eager to disappoint Bellamy, and Bellamy turns and walks over to Octavia, his voice lecturing. “The deal was no weapons.”

You hug Miller before helping him out of the harness, swinging it to the nearby prisoner to get it ready for the next person. You hear Octavia retort, “Not my deal.”

“I need to talk to you in private. Give me a second, then follow me.”

Bellamy turns and glances at you before he walks away, climbing down the rubble and heading into one of the nearby abandoned buildings. Octavia waits before following, and as soon as she climbs down, out of earshot, Indra radioes your mother. “Okay, bring him up.”

As soon as she gets confirmation that they’re on their way, Indra motions for you and Clarke to follow her down the rubble and onto the ground below. She steps slightly out of view just in case Octavia returns, and you all wait in silence for Kane’s arrival. It takes a few minutes, but you finally see him on the surface, shielding his eyes from the bright sun with his cuffed hands. The prisoners unhook him and then Kane climbs down the rubble, looking for the three of you. As soon as his eyes land on you and Clarke, his whole face lights up, splitting into a grin. You smile back at him, happy to see the father figure, and he reaches Clarke first. She hugs him tight, smiling, before stepping back and allowing you to hug him. You give him a squeeze, letting your hug say all the things you don't have time to say, before you pull away and look at him. He looks good, better than a lot of the people you’ve seen in the bunker. He does looks tired and there’s a small cut on his head, but his hair is longer and he otherwise looks healthy.

Indra presses something into his hands, muttering, “Wait for night. If you get caught, I won't be able to help you.”

She turns and immediately walks away, and as soon as she does, Kane opens his hand, revealing the keys to his handcuffs. He tucks them into his pocket as your mom walks over, now free from the bunker, and she hugs you and Clarke again as soon as she sees you. You look towards the building that Octavia and Bellamy walked into, watching as Bellamy comes out, and you pull away from your mom quickly, “Octavia’s coming, you two need to hide.”

Clarke grabs your mom’s hand and looks towards you, “I know where to take them. Keep an eye on Octavia.”

“Will do.”

The three of them run off, and Octavia and Bellamy join you a minute later, and the three of you resume your assistance in the bunker exodus. You do this for a few hours, until the sun sets and darkness blankets the destroyed city, the flame from torches the only thing lighting up the streets. As you’re helping a couple out of the bunker, you hear a blast come from nearby, and Bellamy turns to look at you in shock. “What the hell was that?”

You think of the explosion on the ridgeline, the sound you heard then the exact same as the one you heard just now. You give him a worried look as you turn and move towards the source, “I know what that was, and it’s not good.”

Bellamy and Octavia follow you as you run through the streets towards an old fountain, Diyoza’s voice growing louder as you get closer. “Sorry about your pretty fountain, but that was only half power. I know most of you are armed. If anyone moves for a weapon, you'll see what full power does to human flesh. It's not pretty.”

As soon as you and Bellamy get eyes on her, he starts to yell, “Hey! Hey, what the hell are you doing? One call from me-”

“Make your call.”

You all come to a stop across from Diyoza, you in the middle, Bellamy to your left, Octavia to your right. Bellamy looks worried as he pulls his radio from his pocket. “Raven, come in. You read me?”

Your stomach drops in fear as Raven’s voice never comes through, and Diyoza smirks at you. “The deal's off, but nobody has to get hurt.”

Clarke comes running up just then, and Diyoza turns to look at her. “Where's your mother?”

Octavia steps closer to Diyoza, face set into a glare. “She's our doctor, you can't have her.”

McCreary turns his weapon on Clarke, and you feel fear grip you tight at the thought of what that gun can do, especially since you’re all standing so close. “She asked you a question, where is the doctor?”

A different prisoner turns his weapon on Octavia, and her people start to move closer, hands moving towards their weapons at the sight of the threat to their leader. Diyoza yells at her prisoners to stop, and Octavia yells to her people, “No! Hold.”

Everyone stands staring at each other in a tense showdown, just as a voice yells out from around the corner, “I'm right here! Don't shoot, we'll come without a fight.”

Your mom and Kane walk into view, hands lifted in surrender, coming to a stop near Clarke. As soon as Octavia sees Kane, she spits out, “I bet you will, traitor.”

Diyoza looks at your mother in surprise. “We?”

“The two of us. Those are my terms.”

Diyoza smirks, looking between you and Clarke. “I see where your daughters get it from. Take them both.”

You and Clarke turn to your mom in shock, just as two prisoners step forward to grab her and Kane. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“I love you both.”

“Wait, mom-”

They are led away before either of you can finish another word, and Diyoza looks over your group, voice rising to be heard. “Okay then, here are my terms. The valley is ours. Any attempt to get there will be met by overwhelming force. As long as you stay here, we won't have a problem. Is that a problem?”

“What about Raven and Murphy?”

She looks at your boyfriend, nodding once. “For now, insurance.” She starts to back away, yelling to the prisoners nearby. “Let's go, on me.”

Everyone moves except for one man, the prisoner whose weapon is trained on Octavia. Diyoza yells, “Szybunka, that's an order!”

The man stays frozen for a moment before he finally starts to back away, and you glance at Octavia, watching a smirk pass over her face. Szybunka must see it too, because he lets out a frustrated yell and turns the weapon towards her, firing. You barely have enough time to process what’s happening, but you see someone from the bunker dive towards Octavia just as Bellamy tugs on your hand, trying to pull you away from the blast. Unfortunately the blast hits someone, blowing them to pieces, and the rest of you are sent flying by the force of the explosion.

You and Bellamy are sent to the side, catching the outskirts of the blast, and Octavia goes flying backwards, shielded from the brunt of the damage, but taking most of the blast. You can hear the sound of Diyoza yelling to the prisoners, but you can't make out the words over the ringing in your ears. Everything feels muffled and wrong, and it takes a few seconds for your senses to return, and when they do, you almost wish they hadn’t. Your shoulder is on fire, smashed from the way you landed, and you’re sure you ripped open a few stitches. Your head is throbbing, and you start to worry that you cracked it on the concrete when you feel a warm hand slide beneath your neck and another wrap around your body, pulling you closer.

You pull open your eyes, Bellamy’s face swimming in your vision, and you watch his mouth move, though you can't quite make out what he’s saying. It takes a few more seconds for the ringing to quiet down, a chorus of groans and screams alerting you to the pain of others, and finally Bellamy’s voice cuts through the noise, “Natshana, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

You nod weakly, trying to gather yourself. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You sit up, groaning as you do, reaching over to touch your shoulder. When you pull your hand away, you see black blood on your fingers, and Bellamy must see it too because he reaches around to your shoulder and peels back your bandage. You’re sure it must look pretty bad because Bellamy pulls you to your feet, eyes frantically looking around. “We need to find Clarke.”

Alarms go off in your brain at the mention of her name, and you start to worry until your eyes fall on her nearby, already tending to someone’s wounds, looking fine. You sigh in relief, and Bellamy supports your weight as he tries to lead you there, pausing in place when Indra and Octavia appear in front of you. You’re relieved to see that she’s alive, blood splattered all over the side of her face, though you aren't sure if it’s hers. She’s leaning most of her weight on Indra, clearly hurting, but she’s alive, and that’s enough for now. Octavia, however, seems to think otherwise, because she’s pissed. Face pulled into a glare, directed at her brother. “I trusted you. This is your fault.”

You hear Miller yell from somewhere behind you, “Blodreina, what do we do now?”

Octavia sets her jaw, already walking away from her brother. “Now we go to war.”

You look up at Bellamy, watching as anxiety passes over his face, suddenly right back to where you were before Praimfaya came. Six years spent in three different locations, in space, on the ground, in the bunker, and you end up back at war for the last survivable spot on the planet. You remember Bellamy’s words to you and Kane when the three of you were locked up by Roan before Praimfaya, and you whisper, “We always end up here.”

The words don’t alleviate Bellamy's anxiety, and when you glance over to Clarke, you can see that she’s thinking the same thing that you are. Maybe none of you are as good as you think you are. Maybe you’re all just killers, and that’s all you’ll ever be. Maybe you will always be at war, one way or another, unable to live at peace.

Maybe you’re the problem.

next chapter

#the 100 rewrite #the 100 #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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fic-ify · 4 years

Text

Pocket Beel! (part 1 of 2)

This was supposed to be done a week ago. It was also only supposed to be a drabble. One week and 6k words later it is exactly neither of those things. I am so sorry. I was going to look back and edit through it but I got tired of looking at it so here we are. Please forgive. I’ll post the second half later today!

Thank you to @thatfanfictionchick for encouraging me to write this and @boxbusiness ‘s amazing Pocket Beel art for inspiring it. (if you haven’t seen it yall should) I hope I did your talent justice.

Warnings: None, it’s very fluffy. Slight language? Maybe?

Summary: My OC Max has a slight misshap and missfire with a project from her Spell’s class that causes our poor glutton some misfortune. Cute chaos ensues.

"Max! Are you ready to go?" Her eyes raised to meet friendly purple and she couldn't help but grin in greeting. Beel made his way through the doorway into the mostly empty classroom towards her. "Are you still working? Class has been over for nearly twenty minutes." As he said this she heard the telltale gurgle of his stomach just as he put his hand over it. He must have eaten his afterschool snacks already.

"Sorry Beel, I'm almost done. The professor said I could stay late to get some extra practice in." She had been struggling a bit with the latest spell they were practicing in class and having the quiet space alone had helped greatly. Not that she didn't think Satan wouldn't help her back at the House, but she knew peaceful study sessions were few and far between. Something the teacher had seemed to understand when she'd asked to stay behind in the classroom.

"Did you still want to join me at the gym tonight?" Beel stood in front of her table now, she could feel his eyes on her curiously as she turned to dig into her bookbag. "You don't have to if you're busy. This looks important."

"You're such a sweetheart, no I still want to join you. I just want to give this one more try then we can head out." She popped her head back up, smiling as she held her hand out to him with something in it. "Here, while you wait!" She watched an excited smile spread on his face when he saw the bag of fried lava python bites and a chocolate bar she'd pulled from her bag. "I had a feeling you'd go through yours so I bought extra."

"Thank you, Max." He took them from her hold, leaning down to give her a quick peck on the cheek in return before he stepped away to sit in an unoccupied seat at the desk in front of her. After a short burst of the crackling of Beel opening the snack bag, the only sounds to fill the empty Spells classroom were his chewing and her infrequent muttering as she looked closer at her spell.

"Chameleon tails…tundra spiders…I think this is everything." She concluded to herself, double-checking the incantation she would have to speak aloud as well as the scribbles she hoped passed for rune work. Oh how she wished for the clean penmanship Solomon had attained over years of practice; though thinking of her normal handwriting, she wondered if she was just the problem in this case.

At least I can bake. Suck-it Wizard mans. Her silent triumph lasted for all of a moment before she took a half step back from the desk and focused on the empty glass jar on the desk beside Beel. She had brought it as practice and target for the spell, figuring not much could go wrong with a Mason Jar. Max took a deep breath, steadying her voice to repeat the spell aloud, the Latin sounding syllables coming out uncomfortably if not a bit stammered.

A bright flash enveloped the desk Beel sat at, the surrounding area included, drawing a surprised yelp from her. She threw her hands over her eyes protectively, only peeking open again when she was positive nothing else was happening. Please have worked…Please don't be alive…

"Oh boy…Beel?" Max called to the empty chair the glutton had previously occupied. The Mason jar sat untouched on the desk, a slight disappointment that was immediately pushed aside by her concern for her demon. "Beelzebub? You there?" A cautious note filled her tone while her gaze lifted and scanned the classroom.

"Max!" What sounded like an impossibly soft voice called her name, sounding for all intents and purposes like it was very far away. When she looked out the window across from her and saw no one, she heard it again. "Down here!" Though now she felt something tapping against her ankle. A quiet sense of foreboding filled her before she let herself look down, eyes widening when she took him in.

Wide-eyed and confused, Beel stood at her shoe, no taller than the clothing item itself. He looked unharmed, as unharmed as a gigantic demon turned the size of a mouse can look, if not a little flustered. Max let out a squeak of alarm and dropped down to kneel beside him on the floor, bending over to take a closer look at her demon. She reached out a shaky hand to him, palm up and let him crawl onto it before lifting him closer to her face.

"Beel?" She whispered, swallowing hard when he nodded in confirmation. "Oh, Babs I am so sorry!" She didn't know if she should cry or call for help but she could feel her skin heating with an embarrassed flush. "What-what should I…Should I call Lucifer?" She really did not want to do that, she could only imagine trying to explain the situation through her shame. However, she knew he would take it and handle it better than any of his brothers. Tiny Beel opened his mouth, looking like he was going to agree to the idea when the sound of the classroom door opening cut him off.

"Max, have you seen Beel? He said he was gonna get you and meet…me…" Belphie rounded the desk to where she knelt, fading off as he took in the two of them. Purple eyes widened in shock at the picture before him, looking from his minimized twin to the human, and back. An awkward, heavy silence filled the room for all of ten seconds before Belphie's laughter burst out of him, loud and full, almost knocking him flat on his ass.

"Belphegor! Don't laugh!" Max whined, covering her face with the hand not currently occupied by Beel. The sloth demon could not be dissuaded from his humor however and continued to laugh at her blunder. The human sighed and looked apologetically at Beel again, who simply smiled and shrugged, an action that at his current size, caused her heart to swell. As she looked at him more and took in the tiny size of him, she had to actively fight off squealing at how adorable he was.

"Here, hold on." She lifted him to her right shoulder, letting him clamber on and hold onto the collar of her jacket while she rose to her feet. Belphie was starting to settle, finally, and wiped a few stray tears from his eyes. "Are you quite finished, I don't know how to fix this." Her glare translated to the rest of her posture with her crossed arms, even if the furrowed brows and hard line of her mouth hadn't.

"Never a dull moment with you hm?" Belphie chuckled, stepping closer and leaning in to get a better look at his normally larger twin. "Looks like you're not the shortest in the house anymore Max." He commented, reaching a hand forward and scratching the top of Beel's head to ruffle his hair. "You good Beel?" At that, the tiny glutton gave whatever attempt at a growl he could muster and snapped his teeth at his twin. Both Belphie and Max turned to face away, the human coughing and clearing her throat in an attempt to muffle her laugh and Belphie covering his own with his hand though not suppressing the mirth in his eyes at all.

"Max…" Beel's tiny whine accompanied by a gentle tug at her earlobe made her turn to glance at him again, seeing his pleading purple gaze that hadn't lost any strength even with his size. "'M 'ungry." Her heart broke at the cuteness, leading her to step to the desk he had been sitting at, leaning down carefully to pick up what was left of the snacks she had given him. The fried treats were gone, so she settled for unwrapping the chocolate bar and breaking off a square to give to him. In thanks, instead of mumbling around the dessert the size of his face, he bumped his head against her cheek before settling again to sit on her shoulder.

"At least we know we'll not run out of food tonight." The demon behind her commented while she packed up her things quickly into her bag. "Lucifer is in a meeting with Diavolo so I don't recommend going to him for this right now." She turned to face him as he was shrugging. "Or do, could be an entertaining turn out."

"Thanks for the support friend. You're so helpful." She deadpanned, hefting the bag onto her unoccupied shoulder. She made her way towards the front of the classroom, listening for a moment to make sure Belphie was following before leaving the room completely. The sound of Beel's content murmurings as he ate made her smile and part of her was so very tempted to hope the change was permanent.

"Beel, are you going to be okay on my shoulder? Do you wanna ride on my head?" She offered, a little worried about knocking him off. Even if he managed to get chocolate in her hair, it was less of a problem to wash it than it would be to worry about him falling. Belphie came up to walk at her right as she waited for an answer from the tiny demon.

A shift on her shoulder made her look over as a soft buzzing filled her ear. The human came to a stop, blinking in surprise as Beel, in tiny demon form, flew in front of her face and grinned brightly. He buzzed around in a circle a few times, gleefully swarming around her head before coming in front of his brother. Beel stuck his tongue out and earned himself a gust of air blown at him, courtesy of Belphie. So cute. She thought, unable to fight back a grin before he opted to land on top of her head, disturbing her hair just barely by little twitches of his wings.

"You don't get to hog Pocket Beel all afternoon," Belphie warned when she lifted another square of chocolate to his brother. A warning she easily ignored with the happy hums she got in return.

"She who possesses the chocolate gets the baby." She said in a happy cheeky tone before picking up her stride back to the House of Lamentations with him. Her embarrassment and concern had died down some since the initial reaction, at least enough that she didn't dread returning home.

Whatever awaited them at the house might not be all bad.

She was wrong. So very wrong.

She really shouldn't have been surprised.

Max, Belphie, and Beel had made it into the foyer without incident, that much had been a blessing. She could hear the sound of bickering from the common room, causing her to silently decide to avoid the area. Beel had been satisfied, for now, by the chocolate so she didn't quite intend to go to the kitchen straight away. If anything she wanted to find Satan as soon as possible, to see if he knew how to reverse her blunder.

"Belphie! Darling Max!" A flowery voice called to them before she could hunt down the fourth born, drawing her attention to the stairs. Asmo stepped off the last few steps in his casual clothes, practically bouncing up to her in his eagerness. "I was wondering where you were darling. Care to indulge in a luxurious bath with the most gorgeous demon in the realm?" She yelped slightly when he threw his arms around her, and practically his entire body weight in the process.

"I-I would love to Asmo but…uh I have something I need to talk to Satan about first." She prayed to whatever being cared to listen that Beel was hiding enough in her hair for Asmo not to notice him. Belphie had decided to be no help at all and stood by the stairs, looking at her as if she was both the most amusing joke and bothersome inconvenience. She shot him a glare, only to be winked at but otherwise ignored.

"What could you possibly need that is more important than time with me sweetie~" Asmo almost whined, hanging on her even heavier now.

"Leggo Asmo!" A tiny voice squawked, making the fifth eldest freeze and Max close her eyes tightly. The clingy demon loosened his hold enough to lift and look at where Beel was sat on the crown of her head, arms crossed indignantly.

"Is that…" She nodded in response to his question, opting to stay otherwise silent. This might have been a mistake when a high pitched squealing was drawn from the lust demon. "Ooo he's so cute!" Asmo did a little wiggle not unlike a kid when they got a toy they wanted. She leaned away when he reached for the tiny demon and shot him a distrusting scowl. "Oh c'mon Max, lemme hold him. He's so cute like a little doll!"

"Asmo back off." She warned, looking again to the twin that refused to step in, lest he expend any energy at all ever. She opened her mouth to ward off Asmodeus again when she was stopped by a sharp yelp and the demon himself jumping back a few feet.

"Beel! I can't believe you bit me!" Asmo was gripping his finger, a dramatic look of betrayal crossing his beautiful features.

"You deserve it," Belphie commented around a yawn.

"Oi! What's all the racket?" Mammon's sharp voice joined in. She turned to see both him and Levi walking out of the common room, understanding now the source of the bickering she had heard. "What's that on ya head human?"

"OMG Beel?!" Before she could stop Levi he had already taken a picture of his tiny younger brother and was frantically typing something on his D.D.D. She would have to persuade him to take down the post later after all this was dealt with.

"H-Hey you shouldn't be ridin' Max around like that! Even if you're so tiny." Mammon was grumbling, moving to either get a closer look at Beel or grab him from atop her head. Whatever his intent she had no plan on finding out as she backed away, making to flee up the stairs. "Why ya so small anyway?"

"Max misfired a form altering spell." Belphie supplied.

He's just really going to be the least helpful in this situation huh? She wanted to smack him upside the head and planned on doing so the minute she was close enough. A soft buzzing once again gained her attention, making her look up to see Beel once again in his demon form and flying above Mammon's head out of his grasp. No one felt it necessary to remind the second born of his own flying abilities as he struggled to catch the tiny redhead.

"Beel I'll grab you a bowl of poisonous chili berries if you meet me at Satan's room." She bargained, grinning up at him when his little purple eyes widened at her excitedly. He shot up the hallway towards the blonde's room, effectively escaping Mammon and the rest of his brothers in the foyer. Slowly they all dispersed, not without making a small fuss each. Levi went back to the common room, muttering something about seeing if Beel would pose with any of his Ruri-chan figures. Asmo refused to leave her side until she 'kissed his finger better' and then proceeded to be chased off by Mammon when he flirted for more. Belphie was the only one to trudge upstairs without complaint, presumably to take his afternoon nap before dinner.

Max was able to grab the berries from the fridge, careful to pour them from the bag into the bowl without letting any of them touch her skin. She could still remember the color her fingers had turned last time she accidentally grabbed a bunch and how long it had taken to regain feeling in them again. Once she stood outside Satan's door, her polite knock was returned by a call to enter.

"Well, this is certainly a first." The blonde greeted when she made her way over. He was sitting in one of his chairs and Beel was sitting on a stack of books that, by all logic of physics, should not have been standing.

"Something out of a Lewis Carol book if you ask me." She agreed. With a little coaxing, she was able to get Beel to sit at a cleared-off section of the desk with the bowl of berries. Juice on ancient, possibly cursed, tomes was not a crime she wanted to be added to her list of misdemeanors of the day.

Beel ate away at the berries happily as the human and Satan discussed the spell she had been attempting to cast. Apparently, due to the ingredients and her unpracticed focus in casting, the spell was prone to seeking out living targets over inanimate objects. "You're probably lucky Beel was there. It might have cast on you, then we'd really be in trouble." Satan pointed out, eyeing his little brother with eyes that spoke volumes about his amusement and curiosity.

"Can you undo it?"

"Probably, but with your limited magic and the basic nature of the spell, it's more likely to wear off in a few hours. A few days at most. It would take longer and more trouble trying to undo it at this point."

Max felt her shoulder sag in defeat and acceptance, wondering if Lucifer would punish her for this. Even if it was an honest accident, she had effectively rendered one of the Devildom's strongest demons, one of her protectors, powerless for a short but unknown amount of time.

"Is okay Max!" Beel chirped, flying up to her face after wiping the berry juice off his own. He placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, it felt softer than a kitten lick, and grinned happily. "All the food is big now! I'm not mad!" She felt herself smile warmly despite her self imposed misery and leaned forward to carefully kiss the top of his head.

"Okay Beel. Just promise me you'll stay with either me or Belphie until you're back to normal?" She didn't think his brothers would do anything untoward, but there was always a risk. With an expression that looked overly serious due to his size, he nodded and flew off to explore the room a little before they left. "Thank you, Satan. At least it isn't permanent."

"You're very welcome Max. If anything else changes about him let me know." She recognized the dismissal but wasn't terribly bothered by it. She wanted to change out of her uniform and into more comfortable clothes, also to plan what she was going to do with her tiny demon. So she took the bowl previously occupied by berries and departed.

"Max." Chills ran her spine the minute she stepped out of Satan's room and came face to face with Lucifer. Or, more accurately, face to chest. She looked up at him, his crimson eyes looking somewhere between tired disappointment and begrudging acceptance. "What's this I hear about a spell on Beelzebub?"

"Well, you see. I…uh…" Her mind scrambled for an answer even as her words started unbidden from her mouth. Both saving and damning her further, Beel swooped down from the doorway and hovered in front of his eldest brother. "It'll wear off?" She offered sheepishly, smiling at him and hoping it didn't come out as much of a grimace as it felt.

Lucifer eyed Beel skeptically, his singular raised brow being the only expressive thing on his face. A heavy sigh escaped him before he turned to look at the human once more.

"I hope for your sake it does. He's your responsibility until he turns back." As if he wasn't a millennia-old demon who could probably take care of himself even at his size. "Though I suppose I won't be so worried about his midnight snacking tonight." Max felt herself relax again at that, knowing that the eldest must not be too mad if he could at least make a joke.

She made her way to her room quickly, letting herself and Beel in before locking the door behind her. She hoped she had at least enough time to change and take a moment to rest before she was bombarded by any of the other brothers. Beel landed somewhere on her bed, or at least she guessed he had by the soft rustling of her sheets. Pulling out some leggings and a baggy sweatshirt, she quickly changed in her bathroom before making her way over to him.

“How you doin’ Babs?” She asked her tiny demon, sitting on the bed beside where he’d nestled happily on her pillow.

“I’m okay!” Max smiled and couldn’t help but reach out and scratch under his chin like he was a kitten. She giggled when something similar to a pleased purr erupted from him in return.

“Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?” He shook his head but pat the pillow under him, in a clear gesture for her to join him. “You wanna nap? Taking a page out of Belphie’s book eh?” She teased but laid down without much protest. She wasn’t surprised he was tired, flying around at his size, even a short length, probably took a lot out of him. And she never argued against a nap after classes.

She settled on her side, watching Beel take off his uniform jacket now that he was out of his demon form as well as his tie. He laid on his side facing her and smiled at her with that familiar warm adoration.

“We’ll probably have to figure out clothes for you eh? I can’t imagine you want to stay in uniform until you’re back to normal.” She kept her voice just above a whisper, not wanting to break the comfortable mood around them. He nodded before yawning and stretching against her pillow. She couldn’t completely hold back the higher-pitched hum that left her throat, still not completely over how adorable he was like this. Once he’d closed his eyes, she watched as his breathing evened and shallowed before closing her own and letting her body relax into the bed.

#obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #obey me beelzebub #pocket beel #my main is sarchopathic #if anyone is confused

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

Text

Snowed In p6

This gave me such a hard time but I needed this conversation to happen for like 50% of the plot shit down the road, plz forgive me.

Pairing: Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: hella awkward convos, pining, self depreciating undertones?, talking about sex? idk yall im tryinna tag these with everything i can think of but if i miss something plz let me know!

Summary: (Last part was pure smut, but for those who skipped, it was basically them justifying a good roll in the hay bc it would help them sleep) The day after some completely pragmatic and not at all monumental sex they’re figuring out where to go from there. Boundaries and such?

__________

part 5 here!

You woke slowly, uncomfortably warm and… sticky?

As reality came into focus you realized the stickiness was sweat from being plastered to Geralt's bare chest as you slept. You wriggled a little, loosening his hold on your hips so you could scoot back and see his face. He was still fast asleep, hair sticking to his stubble and mouth slightly open. He looked so much more innocent, almost juvenile when he slept. It made you want to protect him, as ridiculous as it sounded.

Your hand reached up on its own to brush the strands of hair away from his face. When he didn't stir you trailed your first two fingers down his jawline, gently dragging the backs of your knuckles up over his cheekbones. You knew he could wake up at any moment, and it would be uncomfortable to explain why you were staring at him like he alone breathed life into you every day, but you continued tracing the peaks and contours of his face.

If you let yourself think about it, he technically did. He got you up every morning, did anything you asked to help you, and everything you didn't have the stones to ask. This man made space for you like no one ever had and accepted the mess you brought with you, going so far as to help you sweep it into a manageable pile.

You swallowed back the lump forming in your throat as you realized just how much of a mess you'd made for yourself this time. You'd fallen in love and set yourself up for nothing but pain.

The snow would melt, you two would join Jaskier on the other side of the pass, things would go back as they were, and you would fall asleep alone.

You took a slow deep breath in and savored the peace for the last couple of moments you could before your heart would burst. Gently lifting Geralt's arm, you rolled up to sitting as slowly as possible, watching him the whole time. When he still didn't wake, you snatched up your clothes and tiptoed to the bathroom.

He was still asleep after a towel bath and meticulously braiding your hair, softly snoring now. You couldn't help but feel a little proud of yourself for tiring him out so thoroughly.

Sitting down next to him you squeezed his shoulder, "Geralt. Hey, wake up."

He grumbled something about it being early and patted the bed where he thought you were supposed to be before his eyes snapped open.

"There he is." You cooed, reluctantly pulling your hand away.

He squinted and furrowed his brow against the morning sun, pushing himself up on one elbow, "You're up. And dressed."

Now, you knew you were manufacturing the disappointment in his words, but it still hit you just as hard. You sprang to your feet, kicking the contents of your bag back toward the corner with a little more vigor than necessary, "Woke up hungry. C'mon, get up."

"Alright, alright." He grumbled, rolling over and reaching for his neatly packed bag.

Breakfast was uncomfortable, to say the least.

Geralt didn't lean his knee against yours and you weren't sure if you missed it or were relieved he spared you the adrenaline rush. Though when he brushed against your arm reaching for the salt and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The neighbors sat across the table from you and one of them winked at you, almost making you choke on your oats. As soon as Geralt was done with breakfast you cleared both your plates and made a beeline for the door.

You lead the way out to the barn, excited to see the caverns in the snow your fight had left the week before were still uncovered by fresh snow. You fumbled with the latch, not entirely paying attention, so Geralt reached over your shoulder and flicked it open himself. He was so close you felt his breath on your neck and the heat coming off of his chest. Everything in you wanted to lean back into him, but that might be breaking a rule and these rules were becoming ever more nuanced.

You went about your usual business feeding and examining the horses and were about to leave, but Beau looked so sad and bored. Poor guy hadn't gotten more than a walk up and down the breezeway in a month and you could see the pent up energy in his eyes. You sighed and grabbed hold of his mane, swinging up onto his back and laying back over his haunches while he ate. This felt like a good place to slow down and examine your options with this whole "friends" business.

"Y/N?"

Or it would have been.

"Stall." You answered, not sitting up even when you heard him slide the door open.

"What're you doing up there?" Geralt's voice had that same confusing, unidentifiable tone he'd used when he'd left you in the bath.

"He looked so lonely. You don't just spend time with Roach?" You spared him a glance, noting how casually he leaned against the door, arms crossed so that his collar slipped down to show the marks from your nails digging into his skin.

He shrugged, "She gets tired of me."

Beau walked across the stall to sniff Geralt’s pockets and nudge his hand when he smelled what he was after. You shifted to stay balanced on his back, absolutely no intention of coming down any time soon.

The silence between you that crept on and on was in no way comfortable. You fidgeted while Geralt pet Beau, giving him a treat here and there when he smiled for him. Normally you’d be amused, now you were just angry at yourself.

You swung a leg over Beau’s withers, spinning to sit sideways facing Geralt, “You’re rather quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

You shook your head, frantically searching for the words you needed, testing the waters,“I ah… I had a good time last night.”

He quickly glanced at you before focusing back on Beau trying to eat his gloves, “Mhmm... Haven’t slept that well in months.”

There was a beat where you debated leaving it there, but you were never one to quit while you were ahead, “This doesn’t have to be weird, does it? I don’t want things getting tense.”

Geralt finally locked eyes with you, searching your face for something, “No… if you’re uncomfortable-”

“Which I’m not.” You interrupted.

He tilted his head, a softness taking over his face that you rarely saw, “You’re my best friend. As long as you’re okay with it, I am too. It’s just sex, after all.”

You nodded, “Just sex. Yeah. We- heh, we didn't even kiss...”

“Exactly. What are friends for?” Geralt playfully swatted at your boot, giving you a grin.

What are friends for…

You plastered a smile on your face, changing the subject before the emotions bubbling in your chest boiled over, “Jaskier is gonna kill you when I tell him you said I’m your best friend.”

He moved to stand in front of you, crossing his forearms and resting them on your knees. His touch was calming, grounding you back into reality as he usually did.

He squinted up at you, “That’s if you tell him.”

You patted his hand, “Oh, I’m definitely telling him.” you teased.

He gripped your wrist and quickly spun to face away from you, pulling you forward and off Beau's back. You squeaked and gripped onto his shoulders when you landed on him. He laughed, giving a little jump to get you higher on his hips and get a hold of your knees. A giggle slipped from your lips, partly due to surprise, but partly because his grip on your knees tickled.

"I'll tell him it was you who dropped the sword on his lute strings." Geralt made his threat halfheartedly, carrying you out of the barn only to have you steer him back to grab your gloves that you'd left on the hay. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, taking your opportunity to hold him close to you as possible, resting your chin on his shoulder. His warmth and his scent lulled you into a state of content as he took his time meandering back to the inn. Just before he reached the door you noticed a fresh snowflake on your elbow.

"Motherfucker." You shouted, "It's snowing again."

"Shit! Y/N, you're right in my ear." He tried to turn to look at you but you tucked your head against his neck, hiding almost like a child.

"Sorry. I forgot…" you whispered, more out of embarrassment than anything.

He hummed, the vibrations permeating your whole body from where you were perched as he yanked the door open and stomped inside. You wiggled, communicating you could once again walk just like a toddler, but he just hoisted you up higher and trudged up the stairs. You bit your lip, hiding a smile on the basic principle of not wanting to feel it, not necessarily because anyone important could see you.

When you reached your room Geralt rather unceremoniously collapsed onto the bed, sending the two of you bouncing for a bit before he came to rest with his shoulders on your hips.

"Tired?" You asked, fighting the urge to rake your fingers through his hair.

"Exhausted." He made no effort to get up but rested his hands underneath the outsides of your knees.

You sighed in agreement and rested your hands on his shoulders, "Post breakfast nap sounds nice."

I can handle this. I know the boundaries. Just don't kiss him. That should be easy enough ...

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part 7 here!

gotta edit bc im a scatterbrain and forgot to tag! If you want to be tagged plz let me know!

@ab-haya @fire-in-her-veinz @cavillhavoc

#geralt of rivia #the wticher #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x reader fic #geralt #geralt x reader fic #geralt fic #geralt x reader fanfic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fan fiction #the witcher fic #geralt x fem!reader #fucking yearning hours yall #thats damn near all im good for

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sexy-monster-fucker · 5 years

Text

Selfish

Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader ANGST

requested by anon: imagine a scenario where Eddie and reader (they’re dating) get into a fight or argument but VENOM doesn’t give a shit about the fight and misses his morsel and is bothering Eddie to talk to him/her to makeup... maybe some angsty sexy longing in there, maybe Venom takes the drivers seat to be with his morsel because the fighting is trivial human shit he could care less for... 💕

requested by anon: Do you do angsty stuff? Like maybe Eddie and reader get into a bad fight and break up and neither one of them stop to think how Venom feels.

requested by anon: Howdy, just wanted to say I love your blog! Also I appreciate a good angsty fic, you're definitely not alone. Hope you had a good Halloween!

“Don’t pretend like this is okay,” Eddie slammed the door behind him...

You had just got back from your monthly office party. Your boss thought it was good bonding for everyone to get together once a month. You found it repetitive and ridiculous. Tonight had been different though. Eddie came for the first time ever, but things at the party were different. One of your coworkers had shown up wasted, “An embarrassment to the company,” you had thought. He was stumbling around, grabbing every girl in sight. He just happened to come up to you and attempt to grope you. He grabbed a handful of you from behind, causing you to jump. “N-Nice ass,” he burped out. “What the fuck,” Eddie raised his voice. “Wh-What’s your pro-problem, dude? She’s just some chick, don’t take it so personal,” he pointed in Eddie’s face. Eddie gritted his teeth, “She’s my girlfriend. And I suggest you step away from her.” You grabbed Eddie’s hand, “C’mon, Eds. He isn’t worth it.” Your co-worker pushed Eddie back, “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do-do about it, b-bub?” Eddie’s eyes went white; Venom was trying to take over. You grabbed Eddie and pulled him back, “Ed! No!” He turned to see you scared. He knew he needn’t handle things the way he wanted. He gave his attention back to your co-worker, “You got lucky this time, but it you ever try something like that with my lady again, you’ll pay.” You and Eddie began walking away when your co-worker began laughing, “What a pussy. His girlfriend convinced him he shouldn’t fight? Nah, he’s just scared-scared he’d loose.” Eddie stiffened up. You placed a hand on his bicep, “Eddie, he’s drunk. Don’t.” Eddie pulled away from your grasp and walked over to him. Eddie lifted him off he ground by his collar with one hand. Venom’s growl escaped Eddie mouth, “I won’t warn you again, insect.” You pulled Eddie away and your co-worker hit the ground. “Wh-what the hell has that guy been eating,” he muttered under his breath. Everyone in the room stared at you and Eddie. Eddie looked angry. You were embarrassed. You ran out, Eddie chased behind you.

...You held yourself tightly. Eddie had embarrassed you in front of your co-workers. You knew he was just protecting you, but he did not have to take it so far. “You’re really going to act like that guy didn’t make a pass at you,” Eddie yelled in anger. “Please stop yelling,” you whispered. Eddie blew his breath out. “Oh? Is that how it is? Just normal? You’re not even upset,” Eddie’s voice cracked. You placed your hand over your mouth. “Whatever,” Eddie scoffed, “Just pretend like it didn’t happen. I wouldn’t expect you to be upset anyway. You never are unless I am the one who messed up.” You turned and felt warm tears falling from your eyes. You had a lump in your throat, “OF COURSE I AM UPSET, EDDIE!” Eddie’s expression changed quickly when you raised your voice. “I can’t keep doing this, Ed. You know it upset me! But you didn’t have top flip out so immaturely! No woman wants to be groped by some drunk guy! I could loose my job over how you acted! You embarrassed me!” Eddie was silent. He stared at you while you cried. He did not know what do to. He was still so angry, but he knew he had hurt you. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N,” Eddie whispered. You were frustrated, “YOU ALWAYS ARE! Maybe if you’d think for five seconds before acting you wouldn’t have to be sorry all the time!” You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. You were beyond angry. Eddie stood in front of you, a frown painted on his face. “I’m leaving, Eddie. We need some time apart,” you stated walking past him. Eddie went to grab you and you pulled away, “No, Eddie. We can’t keep fighting all the time. I need a break.” You walked out.

Eddie began crying. “Oh my God, what have I done,” he held his face in his hands. Venom appeared next to Eddie. He was confused. Not completely understanding where you had went and why you had left. “Ed, what happened? Where did our princess go,” Venom questioned. Eddie leaned against the door, slowly sliding down it until he sat on the floor. “She broke up with me,” Eddie whispered. Venom did not understand, “What does that even mean?” Eddie blew his breath out, “She decided she did not want to be my partner anymore, V. She is no longer a part of our life. And it’s all my fault.” Venom snarled. He was angry that Eddie had made such a foolish mistake. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you do that,” Venom hissed at Eddie. “Listen, Venom. These kinds of things happen. People break up. Trust me, this hurts me a hell of a lot more than it hurts you,” Eddie was cold in his words. Venom growled at Eddie, “You are going to get her back!” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Don’t be an idiot.” Venom pulled Eddie up to his feet. He made Eddie’s hand grip the doorknob. “NO,” Eddie argued. “YOU! ARE! GOING,” Venom demanded, causing Eddie to open the door. Eddie was angry, yet relieved.

You stood outside in the cold. You were waiting on a cab. You heard someone approaching you from behind. You knew it was Eddie, “Listen, Ed, I’m not-” It wasn’t him. It was simply another attendee at the apartment. The man gave you an odd look because you had spoken to him. He continued on across the road. You were disappointed it hadn’t been Eddie. You would not admit it, but you wanted Eddie to come chasing after you. It was childish and immature. You should have just worked things out like adults.

“I can’t, Venom,” Eddie argued with the beast. Venom was getting desperate and threw Eddie out into the hallway. Eddie slammed into the wall, falling. Eddie groaned in pain while he tried to force himself back up. “She is going to be gone soon,” Venom panted. Eddie rose, “I don’t see why it matters so much to you.” Venom’s tone changed, “I love her, Eds. She means the world to me. I feel so attached to her. She can’t just leave us. I want her back, Eddie. And you did not even put up a fight when she tried to leave. I can’t go get her on my own. Eddie, please.” He was sincere. For once, the monster had human emotions. Eddie could feel how real his feelings were and he began to feel them too. Eddie had been fighting his feelings for months. He continued to push them and you away out of fear of him not being good enough. He knew he loved you. Loved you more than he had ever loved anyone. He had no idea how to tell you. He was scared it would scare you. Scared it would seem too soon in your eyes. “I’m sorry, V. I didn’t even think about how this would affect you,” Eddie apologized. “Edster,” Venom began, “You can make it up to me by getting that girl.” Eddie smiled at Venom. Eddie began to rush down the stairs.

You began to shiver. It was getting colder and there was no cab in sight. You heard another set of steps begin behind you. You turned to see Eddie rushing towards you. You could not help but smile, “Eddie!” He smiled when he saw you, “I came down here to tell you how sorry I am. You have no idea how much you mean to me. Seeing that guy all over you just set me off. I am so so sorry. You mean the entire world to me.” You shook your head, “It’s okay, Eddie. I was being dramatic leaving like that.” Eddie pulled you into his embrace, “I love you, Y/N.” You froze. “Did you just say you loved me,” you whispered. Eddie nodded. You felt your cheeks turn pink, “I love you too.” Eddie giggled and picked you up. He spun you around and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Let’s go back to my place, you have to be freezing,” Eddie took your hand in his. You smiled and walked back to Eddie’s apartment with him.

~~~

End

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bucky-smiles · 5 years

Text

Doing Good

A oneshot? WOAH! Happy Early Halloween, here’s yall’s treat. Big love to @honeybucks and @delicatelyherdreams for betaing and helping in making my insecurities about this a little less. I’m going to note and say that flashbacks are not in chronological order. That’s all I’m saying though!

Prompt: This is an entry for my @star-spangled-bingo card for the Domestic AU square! If Bucky didn’t “die” in the war... Set in the late 60s and based on The Gambler by fun.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Fluff, angst, description of injury, mentions of blood and PTSD, war, children

Honest to God, Bucky Barnes always wondered how the hell he got to where he was. The last thing that he thought of when growing up was that he’d end up with the life he has now. The focus then was staying alive and getting by on the tiny sums given to him on all of the paychecks he received from the jobs he worked.

Falling in love was the last thing on his mind… Although he did indulge himself in that world from time to time.

Even though Bucky and Steve were living paycheck to paycheck, they still tried to make the most of their lives by going to dance clubs, bars, and Coney Island whenever they had a little bit extra they could spend. That’s what happened the night his life changed for the better. That’s what happened the night he met her.

It was a chillier night in Brooklyn when Bucky convinced Steve to go out for a night of dancing with dames. Steve didn’t want to, but figured he’d just indulge his best friend rather that listening to all the complaints Bucky would have about staying in. So there they were, the loud music hitting them the moment they entered the place. There was laughing, glasses clinking, and a jazz band ready to play to the night’s end… And Bucky’s smile and excitement made going out worth it to Steve.

Bucky was already scoping out the area, looking for potential dance partners as Steve found them a booth to put their jackets down at.. Also where Steve would likely be spending most of the night. Bucky got two coke bottles, moving to where Steve was sat and setting them down. He removed his jacket and set it down in the booth, eyes still flitting about the smiling faces in the vicinity.

That's when his steel blue eyes meet hers... It was barely a glance, in all honesty. Bucky and her eyes bounced off each other before moving to other people and parts of the room.. The eye contact was unintentional, not to be spoken about again to anyone if brought up.. They didn’t even know it happened in all honesty, so what was the point?

The moment Y/N looked back to Bucky was when she realized that there was a good looking, brunet man without a dance partner. Or at least without a visible dance partner. If she asked him to dance, what was the worst thing that could happen? Rejection? That wasn’t all that big a threat.. Especially if she’d never see him again after this.. Which was why she found herself moving in his direction, her own coke bottle in hand as she moved.

When Bucky noticed a pretty girl coming his way, his heart found its way into his throat. She took his breath away and just.. Wow..

He was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open when the girl flashed him a bright smile before speaking, “Hiya! I’m Y/N.. Wanna dance?”

Love at second sight.

“Bucky, did I schedule people to handle the shop today? I can’t remem-” Y/N walked into their shared bedroom, the stress radiating from her. She had a habit of misplacing her journal that had all of these notes and would go on a stress spree trying to remember everything.

“Doll,” Bucky interrupted, “you know you did.. You’re a good shop owner, don’t stress this much..” The man sits up in bed, metal arm creaking just a little bit as he boosts himself. “C’mere.. It’s barely 10.. We have time left to be lazy..” There was a soft smile on his lips and it quickly passed to Y/N’s as well and she let out a quiet sigh before moving to get back into bed beside her husband of 30 years, curling up into his side and wrapping an arm around his bare torso.

“You’re right.. M’sorry..” Y/N lets out a quiet laugh before continuing, “I still have to find the damn journal though.. But.. Yeah later.. It’s fine.. You’re right, we have time..” She looks up to her husband before tapping his side gently, “What’s got you in such a good mood, hm? Sleep real well or something?”

Bucky leans down and presses a soft kiss to his wife’s forehead before speaking, “That and.. And I was thinking about us.. And how far we’ve come.. And all that.. Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m feeling nostalgic..” He laughs a little at the way that Y/N wrinkled her nose a little.

“You’re such a sap, Buck..”

“I know.. But I’m your sap.”

“So how does a beautiful doll like you end up working in a diner, hm? You should be in Hollywood or something,” That was Bucky speaking as he walked Y/N home. This was their third date now. They hadn’t counted the first night of dancing.. But every time they were together after that was most definitely a date.

Y/N had Bucky’s jacket draped over her shoulders as they walked and his statement caused her to roll her eyes. She was toying with the singular rose that Bucky had gotten her earlier that evening and raised her shoulders in a gentle shrug, “The depression isn’t doing anyone favors, Bucky.. My parents need the money so I’m tryna help em’ as much as I can. Can’t do much else now that I’m 18.”

Bucky knew the feeling, especially since he had moved in with Steve. But Y/N knew his situation for the most part. Only 3 dates and Bucky wanted to tell her everything there was to know about him. Even better, he wanted to give her everything too; his time, body, mind, and soul. Although Bucky figured that that would be a little strange to say all things considered. He’d only known Y/N for a couple of weeks now and was already feeling so strongly.

“And if your parents didn’t need the money? What would you be doing?” Bucky felt this need to know everything about her. What she wanted from life, her hopes and dreams, worst fears and pet peeves. Anything she was willing to talk about.

The question causes her to smile a little bit and she lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, “I’d still work.. But I’d save the money to open a flower shop of my own.”

Bucky’s smile brightened at her words. Here she was with the desire to start her own business. Y/N really was the smartest girl in the world wasn’t she. He didn’t think twice as he spoke, “You know what doll?”

Y/N’s brow raises playfully as she looks to Bucky, “What, Buck?”

“When all the depression business is over, m’gonna stop just giving you a rose every time I see ya.. I’m gonna put the money in to help that shop of yours.. Cause’ you’re gonna make it big. I already know it.” And truly, Bucky meant every word he spoke. This wasn’t just flirting, rather a way to show how impressed he was by this girl.

Y/N shakes her head a little at that, “We’ll see when the ‘depression business’ is over.. In the meantime, just stick with the roses.” She bonks the top of Bucky’s head with the rose as she speaks, a bright smile on her lips. He was cute with little things like that. It made Y/N’s heart swell.

In response, Bucky only takes Y/N’s hand, swinging it between the two of them gently as they continue to walk under the starry night on the Brooklyn streets.

Y/N lets out a quiet sigh as she shifts for just a moment to look at the clock. Seeing that it was only a little past 1 in the afternoon, she relaxes against her husband once more, looking up to him and smiling softly, “None of them are gonna be here for a few more hours.. We have more time..”

Bucky tightens his grip around Y/N and kisses her forehead gently, looking down to meet her gaze, “I know.. That’s why I haven’t gotten out of bed yet, doll.” He leans down to kiss her properly, holding it for a few moments before pulling away, “I wish we could have more of them, ya know? I miss when they were all babies and we got to raise them and all of that..”

Y/N laughs quietly at his words and nods her head a little, “Yeah me too.. Except I don’t miss carrying them around for 9 months.. And I don’t miss waking up every other hour.. Plus, we’re too old to have any more. I know for sure that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with a baby. And no matter how badly you want to, I know you wouldn’t either.”

The man lets out a long sigh. His wife was always right, he knew that for sure. She was so smart and always said the things that he wouldn’t want to say. And she was right in all of this too. Now at 52, life was getting to be just a little more difficult. His arm didn’t make things easier. He could feel his mobility declining and, while it was natural, Bucky still didn’t want to give up his young soul and childish tendencies. “Yeah, I know, doll.. But a guy can dream, ya know?”

“Yeah yeah, I know.. Did Winnie say if she was coming or not?” Y/N let her hand drift over Bucky’s chest, drawing random patterns over the area as she spoke. This entire thing was planned because Winnie said she was going to be in town so hopefully she wouldn’t cancel last minute.. Not that they’d mind if she did, their daughter was an especially important woman in her work world.

“She said she wouldn’t miss it for the world, doll.. I made her promise that much..” Their first daughter with eyes and drive both from her father. Winnie was, by far, the one that gave her parents the most trouble but in the most unconventional ways. Her younger brother, Grant, was much more of a handful when they were all growing up.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Barnes, his pneumonia doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” The doctor had a somber look on his face as he got up from little Grant’s bedside. “The medicine can only do so much.. And the cold climate isn’t helping his situation anymore..”

Y/N was clutching the collar of her shirt as she listened to the doctor, taking her bottom lip between her teeth at his mention of the weather. “Are you suggesting that we move, doctor? Pick up our entire life from Brooklyn and go somewhere warmer?”

The doctor lets out a long sigh at Y/N’s question before shrugging, “At this point? With the severity of his condition? I really do think that it’d help a lot more with the medicines..” And with that, the doctor left, leaving a heartbroken Y/N thinking about the family having to leave their entire livelihood in Brooklyn for another life somewhere else.

“Ma?” A quiet Grant spoke from bed, “We don’t hafta move, ma.. I can handle this.”

Y/N lets out a quiet, breathy laugh at his words before nodding her head, “I bet you can, baby boy.. I’ll talk to your dad. How does that sound?” She rests a hand over the swell of her belly where another child rested before moving to her son’s bedside. “You’re such a strong boy.. I’m so proud of you..” And he was exactly like his namesake, it seemed.

When Bucky came home that night, he wasn’t expecting Y/N to say what she did.. And it broke his heart.. Y/N being pregnant, Winnie being in third grade, and Grant so ill made the circumstances so much more difficult. But they could lose their son and they sure as hell were not going to risk him for their personal comfort and life.

A few months later, the Barnes’ said goodbye to Brooklyn and hopped on a plane to San Diego, California. It was an up and coming city with nice weather and good people from the sound of it. Y/N had sold her flower shop in Brooklyn and started a new one up in their new city. Grant got better with time and the warmer air. Winnie made new friends quite quickly in her new school. And eventually, Y/N and Bucky welcomed their third child only 4 months after settling down in their new home.

“Can you believe Grant is 25 now.. And bringing his girlfriend with him tonight..” That was Bucky speaking again, tugging the blanket further up over his and his wife’s body. California had been an adjustment they had to make.. But Bucky had grown to enjoy it quite a bit. He did miss Brooklyn at times but it was fine.. They were fine and their kids turned out just fine. And Grant was all grown up and okay. A true man, in Bucky’s eyes, especially because he couldn’t be more like his mother. Everyone was a lover in both of their eyes and optimism was of utmost importance.

“Mhm.. And Winnie being pregnant yet travelling so much.. Something else..” Y/N laughs a little as she speaks. It was in moments like this that she felt especially old. Their kids were all grown up and doing their own thing.. And Y/N and Bucky were there, laying in bed, just fine and surviving.

Surviving used to be a trial in itself. Especially when Bucky was serving during World War II. Y/N nearly shuddered at the thought, pressing closer to Bucky.

“What is it, hm?” Bucky had a concerned look on his face at Y/N’s sudden actions, looking down at her with a curious gaze, “You alright?”

Y/N nods at his question, offering a weak smile reassuringly, “It’s crazy to think I nearly lost you at one point is all.. I dunno what I’d have done if I did..”

Bucky lets out a quiet sigh at Y/N’s words and his gaze trails off to one of the walls of their room. “You didn’t though, and that’s all that matters..”

1945 was by far the most difficult year Y/N had ever gone through. Bucky had received his papers towards the end of 1942, right after Winnifred Barnes was welcomed into the world. And 1943 was when he left his new daughter and wife of now 3 years. He could only come back twice in his time gone, both only for a couple of weeks which he spent with his family before he’d have to go back. The second time, he left his wife pregnant. One of his biggest regrets will always be that he missed Grant’s birth. The namesake came forth as Y/N’s only reassurance of Steve being there with her husband in Europe.

Steve and Bucky had kept the capture in between them for the most part. Y/N knew bits and pieces of Azzano. Mainly that it was a difficult battle to win and that it was Steve’s debut as Captain America. She also knew that Bucky went through a lot but she was never told what. Bucky hated having her worry so he figured it’d just be best to avoid the situation.

One thing Bucky knew for sure was that he would not let the horrors of war come to Y/N. Her eyes were too bright and her soul too warm to be tainted by the darkness of the wars. She saw hope in everyone.. But Bucky knew the truth of what he sees and what his fellow soldiers have been through… And he knows what that knowledge would do to his beloved wife.. So he keeps it away the best he can.

He couldn’t keep it away, however, when the train accident occurred.

Y/N had nearly lost her husband. There he was, hanging for his dear life from the side of a moving train when Steve managed to grab him and pull him to safety. However in the commotion, the jagged metal of the train got caught in Bucky’s shoulder. Attempting to get the metal off of him made the injury all the worse and it was a miracle that Bucky survived all the blood loss and managed to stay alive through all of the surgeries.

Y/N got a call 2 weeks afterwards.. She had begun to get antsy as she hadn’t received Bucky’s weekly letter in two weeks.. Something wasn’t right, she knew it.. But no one would tell her anything.

The woman had just gotten a toddler Winnifred and baby Grant to bed when the phone rang. She quickly picked it up in fear of waking the kids up and reversing all of her hard work, “Hello?”

“... Y/N?” Steve was speaking from the other line. It sounded like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Stevie? What.. What happened? Is Bucky okay?”

“Y/N you’re going to want to sit down for this..”

The work earlier in not wanting to wake up the children was in vain. Y/N’s shrieks at the news woke them up anyways.

After that, Y/N got her mother to watch the kids for the week and Stark flew the plane himself to get Y/N from a covert military base. She was the wife of a Howling Commando, after all, and was to be treated with nothing but respect.

Y/N was scared to see Bucky. The surgery had gone fine but he no longer had his left arm. She just.. God, it was terrifying to think that the man she loves the most had gone through this much pain and that she couldn’t do anything about it.

The woman took a seat beside Bucky’s hospital bed and took his right hand gently, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Her husband was asleep, safe from the horrors of war to her knowledge.. And he seemed peaceful, like the Bucky she’d met nearly 10 years ago.

It made Y/N cry quietly. What had war done to her love?

“You said you aren’t leaving till it’s our time.. And it isn’t our time.. I’m not quitting and you can’t either, Bucky.. You can’t leave me, Winnie, and Grant by ourselves. We need you. And I wouldn’t be able to survive without you..” Y/N presses another kiss to the back of his hand, pushing his almost shaggy hair back gently on his forehead. “I know you’re sleeping.. But I promise.. I’m not ever leaving your side.. As long as I can hold your hand, I’m not leaving you.”

Y/N had to nudge Bucky a little to bring him out of the trance he’d fallen into thinking about war. He’d gotten discharged after the accident and spent time back at home getting himself together. Once the war was over, Stark helped Bucky’s arm situation out by fashioning a state of the art prosthetic for him. It wasn’t enough for Bucky as it wasn’t his arm. But he made due with it and would often go in to get things refitted and reworked.

Bucky blinked a couple of times, clenching and unclenching his metal hand before looking back to Y/N and offering a weak smile, “I’m glad you never left me after the accident. Don’t know what I would’ve done.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N sits up and runs a hand through her own hair before stretching out, “How could I? I love you too much.” The woman flashes a fond smile to her husband before moving to get out of bed, “Come on, the kids are all gonna be here soon.. We best get everything ready.”

And so Y/N and Bucky worked in tandem getting everything together for their kids’ arrival. Lucy was the first to arrive, a taxi from the bus station bringing her right back home from her studies at UCLA. At the age of 19, she was on her way in the world of biology. Everyone knew she was going to make it big.

Grant came home afterwards, his girlfriend by the name of Jane, on his arm. He was excited that his girl got to meet the entire family now.

After Grant came Junior.. His name was James but the nickname was quickly taken up as Bucky’s full name oftentimes made him cringe. He was still in school, studying business as his working at his mother’s flower shop since a young age put him in a world he didn’t want to leave.

And lastly, but most certainly not least, came Winnifred. Her belly was swollen and her husband was on her arm. Y/N was absolutely delighted that she was to be a grandmother soon.

Dinner passed and all the Barnes siblings had filed to the expansive backyard. Junior was talking with Winnifred’s husband, Grant was handling the dishes with his girlfriend, and Lucy was talking with Winnifred about her plans for the baby.

Y/N and Bucky watched from where they were sitting, fond smiles on their face.

“Hey, Bucky?” Y/N spoke gently, her eyes slowly drifting to her husband.

Bucky looks to her, his smile brightening just a little, “Yeah, doll?”

She takes his metal hand, her finger running over the gold band that’d been smelted onto his left finger before squeezing his hand gently, “We did good..”

The man lets his gaze drift off to his children again, and the people they’d chosen for their lives like Bucky had done for his. Eventually, he nods a little, squeezing his wife’s hand right back. “Yeah, doll.. We did.”

~ Taglist! ~ (Send in an ask to be tagged in the future!)

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xhaotixaesthetica · 6 years

Text

Guardian Witch!Hyunjin

Starlink Intergalactic Navigator

You are in: a genetic mutation of The Fantasia Star System

TRIGGER WARNING: one mention of groping, one mention of a creepy man luring kids in a van, some sexual themes

man this is gonna fuck me up so hard but lezzgettit i need to stop reading jae’s tweets

idk how it works in y’all’s universe, y’all got some weird shit going on that one dude, trump? WILDT

but here in CS2001, witches are a subcategory of demons, so basically you got a guardian demon trailing after you 24/7

guardian witch! hyunjin looks like the above picture, his eyes are like that constantly, but whenever he works any kind of magic, his irises glow

hyunjin is not a subtle bitch and he works magic pretty much 24/7 so either they’re normally constantly glowing or flashing like a fucking neon sign

once when y’all were cuddling and he was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes were just constantly glowing and when you asked about it he said, “I’m protecting you.” all casual like he does this shit all the time which he does sis do you know how many shields and protection spells are around your fucking house

crying rn, where can i get me a guardian witch! hyunjin

hyunjin is v young, esp for a demon, he’s the same age as you, but all the other demons are fucking terrified of him and they never tease him about it except his eight other crackhead demon friends

boy knows some powerful magic, some neutral, some light, and some very very dark

no one outwardly knows if he’s ever offed someone but he never gives a straight answer to the question, only this smug little smirk, and he knows a little too much about some very disturbing curses and torture devices

this is not to say that he’s a bad person, he’s not, he’s like the chaotic good type

because the only people that end up on his shit list are the people who deserve it

that dude who groped you without your consent when you were 13? yeah no one knows what happened to him, hyunjin don’t fuck with that sexual assault shit

the creepy dude in the white van trying to lure kids in that hyunjin happened to spot when he was walking you home from school one day? yeah, he’s missing and a bunch of previously missing kids were recovered the next day

he’s not like a vigilante or an antihero, boy spends most of his time with you anyways, but this shit is everywhere and if he sees it, he’s gonna put a stop to it

there was no big event where you came home and saw him chilling on your bed and threw him out the window in fear if i saw hyunjin’s fine ass on my bed after i came home from school, i’d probs cry and need a bowl of cereal to cope

he was just kinda always with you

demons are notoriously bad parents so when his mom had him, bitch just kind of dipped and he was assigned to you

witches don’t eat, not like humans anyways, they feed off energy, what kind of energy depends on what kind of witch it is

guardian witches feed off the life energy of their person, so as long as you’re alive he is too

growing up, your parents were no stranger to the name hyunjin cause you talked about him constantly but they thought he was just an imaginary friend till you were like seven and hyunjin started his drum faze and he was “drumming along” to linkin park on your father’s office desk at 3am

now they just don’t comment when shit starts floating around the house or you scream at them when they try to sit in a spot where hyunjin’s already sitting

he can actually appear to people if he chooses to, he just likes fucking with your parents, this dumbass thinks their reactions are funny

two of hyunjin’s dumbass demon friends, these little assholes named minho and jisung like to hang around your house and eat all your fucking food, EVEN THOUGH THEY’RE FUCKING WITCHES AS WELL AND DON’T NEED FOOD

they hang around your house constantly, it’s like they live there

it’s lowkey a battle for who can get hyunjin’s attention

now onto YOU and hyunjin

boy is WHIPPDT

he low-key follows you everywhere, not like a stalker, he’ll just find an excuse to go anywhere you go

claims it’s cause you need protection, when really he does, cause this bitch is ready to throw hands at any single loud noise

you and hyunjin are a couple but were best friends long before that and it fucking shows

knows all your orders from every single restaurant, but he doesn’t order it, he just pops it into existence cause he’s lazy and he doesn’t like the way the cashier checks you out when you guys go

jinnie takes his job as your guardian WAYY too seriously

you ain’t going outside in late fall without a jacket, you better be wearing short sleeves in summer, no standing around in the rain you might get sick, ANYONE messes with you at school, you gotta tell him so he can kick their asses

some things hyunjin doesn’t have a solution for but he’ll just be by your side for it and it’s so calming. you got a test? he’s sitting beside you both while you study and while you take it lowkey trying to help you cheat, you might have to hit him a bit or accept his help and cheat, do what you gotta do sis, you won’t need that info later on anyways

you gotta come out to your parents? boy’s right there rubbing circles on your hand with his thumb

you gotta give a speech? he’s in the audience with a foam finger and a fucking banner with your name on it, trying to be stupid and make you laugh

supportive in the most tsundere way

“ooh, that looks cool” he says nonchalantly, looking your talent show dance and pretending like he didn’t just finish putting up flyers for the show, highlighting your name and crossing out the other contestant’s names and drawing mustaches on them and acting like it was just your fucking solo performance basically

the. CLINGIEST. BABY.

“y/n can we cuddle i had a nightmare :(”

“jinnie....it’s noon and you don’t sleep”

“ >:( HOLD ME YOU DUMB BITCH”

despite how he acts and how clingy he is, this boy is so fucking tsundere and actually quite shy

his eyes glow when you hold his hand cause he still has to perform a silent spell to keep himself from blushing

he pretends to be all aloof when his friends are over

“y/n don’t hold my hand, you have two for a reason, hold your own”

this is said WHILE he’s crawling into your lap and literally drinking from the same cup as you

he’s not reserved about PDA around other demons who aren’t his friends, boy wants them to know you’re taken

“jinnie, what are you doing why are your eyes glowing?”

“i don’t like the way that asshole was looking at you”

“but your eyes only glow when you— HWANG HYUNJIN DID YOU JUST MAKE ME INVISIBLE?!”

“don’t worry we both are”

whenever hyunjin feels really REALLY strongly (anger, lust, happiness, doesn’t matter as long as the emotion’s really really strong), his eyes will glow completely green iris, pupil, sclera the white part for you uneducated bitches, and all

you’ve only seen this happen three times (minus when you have sex, boy’s eyes go green quicker than you can get him on the bed)

the first time was when y’all were fifteen and he realized he loved you

it was stupid, you were literally just about to fall asleep and he was playing with your hair and looked down and was like wow, i would really die for this moron

and his eyes glowed green and he just poofed out of your room and you didn’t see him for two days it was like that video of that cat that ran in and said i love you and then zoomed off real confused cause they couldn’t handle their emotions

the second time was when y’all were 17 and you were the first to say i love you

he. literally. started. crying.

I MEAN BLUBBERING, YOU HAD TO CALM HIM DOWN

cause he still has doubts that anyone could ever really love a demon and he thinks that you’re amazing and you could get any guy you want but you fell for him? that shit just got to him man, he wouldn’t stop saying i love for for like three hours

fight me you dumb bitch, you’re literally a fucking god and you deserve all the love in the world

can y’all tell i love hyunjin, i love hyunjin so fucking much :(

and the third time was when an angel tried to get you to ditch him

they do this shit a lot actually, they don’t agree with the idea of any sort of demon being a guardian so they try to get the human to break the bond and get a guardian angel

and this angel was bold, he walked up to you when hyunjin was right there, the nerve of him >:(

hyunjin’s eyes glowed green as soon as he realized what was happening

“you have three seconds to get the hell away from my human before we have a fucking problem”

he fucking growled the words out

ngl, it was hot, you’d never really seen hyunjin this mad before

the angel was scared af

yall went home and fucked after, for a loooong time

if you ever want to get hyunjin riled up, call him hyunjin instead of jinnie

his eyes glow green and he does that thing that people do where they like close their eyes and roll their neck around, trying to release the tension from their shoulders and keep themselves under control idk if you know what i’m talking about but it’s so dom, jimin from bts did it once and i think i had a spasm

“yes baby?”

and he’s looking down at you really intensely, like you’re something to eat

you can always tell when he’s in the mood either cause his eyes are glowing or suddenly your name has switched from y/n, love, sweetheart, and loser to baby or prince/ess

MOVING ON

jinnie has an animal form

it is, you guessed it, A SAMOYED DOG

except his fur is as black as his hair and he’s kinda VERY big for a samoyed, and his eyes are green

people who know what samoyeds are and are supposed to look like are kind of freaked out when they see him but everyone else just coos over how cute he is cause he is

he’s a very happy pup, actually likes for you to walk him and take him to the dog park and shit

doesn’t like leashes, but he’ll never admit that he actually likes wearing the collar with your name on it

“i just don’t see why i have to wear it y/n”

“jinnie, you don’t, you made me buy it”

“it’s not like if i can’t find my way home or teleport if the pound picks me up”

“that’s what i said before you made me buy it”

*dramatic sigh* “if you insist, just put the damn thing on so i can go play”

“jinnie, you don’t have to wear it, i really don’t care—”

“ >:( YOU’D BETTER CARE, JUST PUT THE STUPID COLLAR ON Y/N, DON’T MAKE ME CHEW UP YOUR SHOES AGAIN”

even sometimes changes into his samoyed form while you're at school and walks around the street so strangers give him food and pets and tell him how pretty he is

he’s really carefree and happy in this form and usually only changes into it when he’s really stressed or just wants to chill or play

he likes to lay on you in this form big ass mf thinks he’s a fucking lap dog or some shit so you rub his ears and give him pets and belly scratches and will not move until he gets them

lays in sunspots and sways his tail like a cat

not afraid to use the puppy dog eyes and they work everytime

call him a good boy or a good dog and he’ll probably bite you

do NOT play tug-of-war with this damn dog, he does not care that you’re his s/o, he will fucking DRAG you with NO. MERCY

one time y’all were at the mall and he was trotting along beside you in samoyed form, happy as a clam, until some rando person came up trying to spit game

long story short, jinnie peed on their leg

he got an earful that day but he still hasn’t apologized and probably never will

“i had to go y/n”

“YOU COULD’VE CHANGED INTO A PERSON AND GONE TO THE BATHROOM”

“c’mon prince/ss, it’s not like they didn’t get what they deserved, who wants to be flirted with while they’re walking their dog”

his logic makes ZERO sense and he knows it, bub just doesn’t wanna admit he was jealous

and as he’s saying this he’s back hugging you, whispering in your ear, swaying gently, even nibbling on your neck and earlobe a bit

he’s got you wrapped around his finger and he uses that to his full advantage

he thinks you deserve it for stealing his heart >:(, how dare you reader

ANYWAYS THIS IS LONG ENOUGH CAUSE I’M A SUCKER FOR ALL THINGS HYUNJIN

so basically guardian witch! hyunjin is a really chill but really devoted boyfriend, protective af with a heart of gold and would give you the moon and stars but pretends like he would sell you to satan for one corn chip

The Fantasia Star System

Starlink Intergalactic Navigator

#stray kids #hyunjin #fluff #headcannons #skz imagines #witch #guardian angel au #demon au #skz hyunjin #stray kids smut #fantasia #genetic mutation #fantasia genetic mutation

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the-pan-ace-writings · 5 years

Text

Chapter 8 Into the fire

First Previous Masterlist

Tag list:

Authors Note:

Hey y'all so sorry for the late update, things got busy with finals and traveling and unfortunately when coming back hope I shipped my computer and it was severely damaged in post and I've had to rebuild it. But that should be up and running soon, currently I've borrowed my mothers laptop to finish for y'all. Also I wanted to say that I've added a set of armor into the story that is personally my favorite in game through a mod, when I get my computer back online Ill post what it looks like so they y’all have a better idea, buts its the Ranger armor that you would find in Kellogg's home. Anyway Happy Holidays !

MacCready made sure to be up and out of the bed before Riona woke up, not wanting to have to figure out his feelings at the moment. He didn't quite understand what he got himself tangled into and he figured he'd deal with it when this problem was resolved. MacCready pulled his cap back on and took the dog outside with him as he went to light a smoke, leaving behind his duster as so it didn't seem he bailed out.

He was leaning against one of the posts outside watching the bustle of Diamond City even before the sun had risen all the way. Dogmeat had settled down at his boots, leaning against this legs watching the people, MacCready was watching the curl of smoke rise above him. Riona stepped out from behind them, both packs in hand and his duster over her shoulder. She passed over his pack and duster and slung hers over her shoulder.

“Are you ready?” Her voice was harsh, clearly still torn up from crying, her eyes were dark and her hair was messy compared to her normal no strand out of place bun, instead the bun was half out and was loose at the base of her neck, snow white hair falling out to frame her face and was pushed behind her ears. She must have fallen asleep with it last night and neither of them had noticed.

“Sure thing” He crushed the cigarette on the post and shrugged on the rest of his gear. “Nick wants us to meet him at his office” He started taking the lead, Riona trailed behind him watching Dogmeat weave between the both of them.

Nick was exiting his office as they got here, tugging his faded fedora down and pulled the lapels of his trench coat closer, it was noticeably getting colder over the past week.

“I'll lead the way.” Nick turned from them and started down the alley towards Kellogg's house. It took them a few minutes to get there, Riona had sent Dogmeat a head to keep him from her feet and she glanced around the small group she had. MacCready was adjusting his scarf that she previously hadn't noticed, and looking over at Nick there was a distinct lack of breath curling from him unlike the rest of the group. Riona was slowly starting to regret was that she was currently wearing but settled to deal with it at a later time.

They approached the stairs and catwalk leading to an older looking door, Nick tried the handle jiggling it before huffing in frustration.

“We’re going to need a key.” MacCready had opened his mouth to object when Riona walked up to the door and knelt pulling a bobby pin from a pocket along with a screwdriver and jimmied it into the locking mechanism it took her mere seconds to get it open, standing with a small swell of confidence before she realized what they were about to walk into.

“I didn't know you could do that! We’ve traveled together for how long? And you've never done that?” MacCready sounded surprised and jokingly bumped into her his tone friendly.

“Don't you worry bout’ that” she swung the door open and pulled her sword from her hip. “After y’all” She gestured for them to pass in front of her, Dogmeat trotted in happily while Nick tilled his hat to her with a comment of how he could use her skills. She closed the door after MacCready and stepped into the dusty residence, the light coming to a flicker.

The home was more of a metal tin shack, built mostly with metal barn siding which was almost completely rusted, paper and some wood covered the flooring and sparse furniture covered the room. It hardly looked liked a place for a kid to grow up. There was a lofted area with a low ceiling with a mattress covered in threadbare sheets, in short the place looked pitiful and sad. It filled Riona with dread that a child was raised here. The desk was the most amount piece of furniture in the room and the most stable, it was built of a heavy wood that's managed to last the years and it was covered in papers, though most too old to make use of anymore or useless to start with.

Riona was close to leaving in frustration at finding nothing that seemed to be helpful to them until Dogmeat started scratching at one of the paneled walls. MacCready had walked over to inspect it closer.

“Riona, this looks like it could open” He called over his shoulder as Nick came closer to it.

“There's probably a switch somewhere in here”

Riona started scouring the room looking for anything remotely like a switch or mechanism to open the door. SHe quickly sound the button hidden underneath the desk after she crawled under it.

The panel opened with a rattle and it grated against the floor as it opened to let them in. The moment she entered the room she left ice hit the bottom of her stomach and felt a shiver run up her spine. The room was clearly a torture area and arsenal. It was clear that it was in use and likely that he used the facility during his time “raising” the stolen children. Riona just shook her head in defeat before entering and inspecting the room. The was a lawn chair propped up in one of the filtering lights of the room, a table and a cigar tray sat on top of it.

She dismissed it upset and continued searching and at this point looting the room. He’d have no use of anything here left abandoned so she would. She was crouched down working on a safe lock when Nick exclaimed.

“San Francisco Sunlights? That's an awful rare brand.” He picked up the cigar and rolled it in his hands before leaning down to Dogmeat having him sniff it.

“You think that dogs will be able to trace that? Do you have any idea how long this place has been abandoned Nick?” MacCready stepped away from a rack of rifles on the wall after swiping a scope. Nick just shook his head.

“You’d be surprised at how well this dog can find things.”

Riona turned from the safe, sat plum on her bottom legs splayed out on either side of the safe looking up at Nick.

“How wouldcha’ know?” She had an extra bobby pin tucked into the corner of her mouth.

“You're not the first one to encounter this dog, he's a man of his own.” He left it at that waiting for her and MacCready to clear the room of any goods they saw fit.

It took her a moment but she worked the safe open and exclaimed in excitement when she pulled out one of the Ranger Uniforms she’d only seen on the most elite forces. Upon further inspection of the uniform she saw it was decently modified and had the boot, helmet and mask. She was nearly shaking with excitement when she pulled it out and showed it off to the others explaining what it was.

“You're gonna keep that right? I don't think you'll find anything nice again.” MacCready was enthused at the find as well. She nodded vigorously having forgotten her normally stoic behavior, all she could think of was the war heroes of her time who got to wear a uniform like this. She insisted on putting it on before they left to follow the trail that Dogmeat had traced.

She stepped out of the metal home in the well fitting clothes. She had on the heavy metal chest piece on two bandoliers where strapped on the front of that, a tactical belt held her sword and a few other gadgets, thick boots added some height at sounded heavy when landing on the catwalk, a high collar leather trench cloaked her, metal was wrapped around her forearms. And the Cherry on top for her was the helmet and the mask with an intimidating red glare from the eye protection, which was currently hanging from her belt, the helmet was strapped to her ruck, not wanting to leave it behind but not wanting to wear it right now.

She was absolutely beaming, and MacCready took the moment he had to look down at her. Her white hair was a stark contrast to the mostly dark leathers and fabrics, she still looked tired but the glow of excitement settled a pleasant feeling over him. He coughed and back at Nick.

“Are you ready?” They both looked over at Riona who suddenly seemed to come back to the situation, MacCready was just glad to have seen her take a moment to herself. She nodded soberly and commanded Dogmeat to lead the way, she followed after.

They had not followed the trail for long until they had found a small little sitting area under an umbrella table with another one of the San Francisco Sunlight Cigars, Riona took it and bent to allow Dogmeat to sniff it again. He took off running again and after following bloody rags to the entrance of Fort Hagen.

Riona looked up at the solid building, it was clearly extremely defended, and getting in was going to be difficult. She looked over to Nick and MacCready who both already had weapons drawn, and both looked mildly anxious. She tried the front door to get in and it was locked, she grimaced and looked around before heading off to where she thought she could in time through an exit door in the underground parking lot.

They crowded around the door, she could already hear skittering around in the building. She looked over to the both of them and nodded, and reached for the mask. It covered her from the eyes down, similar to how she used to wear her bandanna, her voice was modulated when she talked and all MacCready could think of was how intimidating she looked like that.

"Yall ready?” She pulled on Dogmeats collar who wiped excitedly, MacCready clasped her on the shoulder before stepping back and adjusting the sites on his rifle. “Then let's make this short.”

She threw the door open and everything broke into chaos.

Authors Note

Thank you for reading! I hope to update as soon as possible, I'm always looking for feedback or suggestions. IF you don't like hoe this is going feel free to comment and Ill take it into consideration in the future. Also If anyone would like to Beta these that would be radical just let me know. Happy holidays y'all

#maccready #Robert Joseph MacCready #sole survivor x maccready #reader x maccready #sole survivor #fallout4 #fallout4 companions #sat in the ashes #nick valentine #dogmeat

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sarahghetti · 6 years

Text

call me in the morning [part one]

Series Summary: One year after the death of his wife, Barry has just begun to piece his life back together. Then, his superpowered doppelganger shows up, kidnaps him, impersonates him, and mistakenly brings him and Detective West to this so-called “Earth-1.”

As if it couldn’t get any more complicated, in this world -

You’re still alive.

Part One: E2!Barry is reminded of the past and finds it staring back at him.

We used to walk in the night, watch the city lights changing Now I look in your eyes and feel like a stranger

Word Count: 3334

Warnings: Major character death (it’s you. you’re the dead wife)

A/N: an e2!barry/e1!barry x reader and uhhh this ain’t a happy one yall. perspective will alternate between e1!barry, e2!barry, and the reader, so keep on the lookout for the subheadings to know who we’re following!

E2!Barry

All things considered—Barry’s having an awful day.

He’d slept through his alarm, scrambled into work with his sweater inside-out, spilt coffee all over his desk. An intern had misplaced his case files the night before, leaving him to reorganize his entire cabinet for the first (late) hour. Then, just when he thought he had survived the worst of it all—a momentary power outage had interrupted his assay, forcing him to restart the analysis.

Oh, and there was another Zoom attack.

The name still sends chills down his spine. Barry’s mouth dries up at the mention, fingers rapidly twisting his wedding band as he rides out the fear and panic. Captain Singh had dismissed him from working on any case involving that speedster, that monster, after the incident, but that doesn’t stop the other officers at the CCPD from talking about Zoom when they think he isn’t listening. If anything, the pitying looks and sudden silences when he makes his presence known is somehow worse.

No one dares to bring it up. There had been the initial shock once everyone caught wind of the verified casualties that day, the not-so-subtle glances his way when Singh went down the list. Barry remembers everything in that moment—he had been standing near the back of the group, by the doorway leading out to the main atrium. You had picked out his bowtie that morning, a deep navy blue to match his grey blazer, pecked him on the lips before he left for work.

And Singh had read out your name. Softly. Carefully. Let the syllables roll off his tongue and be eased by the air and yet, they still echoed across the room. Barry remembers repeating it over and over ever since you said yes, testing out his last name in relation to you; he had loved how it sounded but now didn’t know how he’d bear to be called Allen when you were gone.

The last thing you said to him was be safe.

“You don’t have to do this,” Iris murmurs.

He’s crouching in the midst of a burnt down department store, carefully collecting samples of the ash and soot. Pointedly ignoring her, Barry seals the plastic bag and adds it to the rest inside his briefcase. Scans the footprints in the ground, makes a mental note that Zoom had accompanied Firestorm after the storefront came down.

There’s a pressure on his shoulder and he jumps, flinching back to see Iris’ hand hovering in the space between them. “Barry, really, I’m sure we can get someone else on this if you want.”

They really can’t. Three of their CSIs are sick with the flu, the others swamped with a backlog of tests. With, admittedly, the highest calibre and most experience in the field—Barry is the only one left.

Reporters clamber behind the barricades, microphones pointed in his direction for a statement. It’s the same thing every time—an attack, a promise made to stop Zoom, not being able to stop Zoom, repeat ad infinitum. Iris is about to continue but another officer waves her over, and Barry doesn’t try to stop her from leaving. Barely glances her way at all before he gathers his things to deliver another hopeful message to the people in order to prevent total and utter desperation.

“We will stop Zoom,” Barry says, his eyes locked with the camera. Immediately, he feels claustrophobic. He had had enough with the media after that list of victims was released to the public, his decline to comment spun into a Greek tragedy in the news. There’s a lump in his throat as he hastily excuses himself to leave, knuckles white around the handle of his bag.

He’s too focused on making it back to the station to react when something, someone grabs his upper arms. The streets around him start to blur. Wind presses his glasses painfully against the bridge of his nose. Barry opens his mouth to say something when his feet hit solid ground again, the inertia rocking his body forward.

The first thing he feels is fear. Wonders if Zoom has finally come for him too, finally decided that he was too meddlesome to have on the CCPD’s side. The thought of you in this same position makes him sick to his stomach.

Barry turns around and deduces swiftly that if he’s in danger, it’s not from anything he already knows about. It’s an office, large and well-kept. Likely for someone important. There’s an awards shelf to his left and monitors line the walls all around him. His gaze falls on the three figures in front of him and he nearly thinks he’s dreaming.

He doesn’t recognize one of the men. The other, well—meeting Harrison Wells had always been on his bucket list; you had looked at that line and claimed that Harrison Wells should be excited to meet him.

Then there’s him.

And it is him. It’s a Barry Allen with his hair styled the other way, glasses missing from his face. His jaw clamps shut with all the frustration and pain he’d felt that day and it takes everything in him to not walk out of the room. “What is going on here?”

Dr. Wells ignores him, turning to his duplicate. “Allen, what are you doing?”

“Hey!” Barry shouts, scowling. Their heads snap to attention. “I am this close to just leaving unless someone cares to tell me what’s happening right now.”

“Wow, this you is a dick,” the unknown man mumbles under his breath, earning himself a glare.

Dr. Wells steps forward. “Listen, Mr. Allen—”

“Dr.,” he snaps, if only to assert some control over the situation.

“Dr. Allen, I assure you that everything is under control. Allow me to welcome you to S.T.A.R. Labs.” Wells opens his arms, gesturing around the room. “Obviously this isn’t the most ideal way of getting you here, but, desperate times.”

His eyes narrow. “What do you need me for?”

“Well, you see,” Dr. Wells steps around his desk and Barry makes the mistake of tracking his movement.

Because the next thing he feels is a sharp pain in his torso, his muscles contracting all at once, and his vision goes black.

When Barry wakes up, his legs are bent at awkward angles and the ache in his neck is killing him. There’s an impressive crack as he stretches it out, but there’s resistance when he moves to sweep the hair out from his eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” The handcuffs restraining his hand to the wall jingle mockingly as he slumps his shoulders. He’s also been changed into different clothes, but thankfully his wedding band remains untouched. “Hello! Hey! Is anyone there? I swear when I get out of here…”

He tugs his hand uselessly. Looking around, he’s been put in some sort of utility closet, but nothing around him looks promising to aid in an escape.

The door swings open and silhouetted in white light is Dr. Wells and the same man from before. Barry clenches his jaw.

“Are you with Zoom?” If Harrison Wells, the man he’s looked up to ever since he was a kid, has been working with Zoom this whole time—he’s going to lose it.

“Am I with Zoom—don’t be insane.” Dr. Wells unceremoniously unlocks his handcuff, discarding the key somewhere on a shelf. He doesn’t spare him a glance before leading him out into a main office space.

“How long was I in there for?”

“Barely a day,” Dr. Wells shrugs.

Barry laughs bitterly. “‘Barely a day.’ Don’t be too sorry about it.”

“You need to leave,” He insists, but Barry steps in his path.

“Not before you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Barry, it’s a really long story—”

“Ramon, there is no time—”

As if on cue, an alarm goes off, and the screens around them flash red with an alert. Dr. Wells freezes, lips parting.

“He’s here,” he murmurs. Barry doesn’t have to ask who he’s talking about.

Zoom is here, Zoom is here. The blood runs cold in his veins. Iris was right—he’s not ready to face this, face him. His knees are on the verge of giving out when Dr. Wells grabs both men by the collar, dragging them down a corridor. “We need to go.”

Barry doesn’t try to fight him. Drags his feet across the floor before they stop at some random strip of hallway, can’t find the strength to react when part of the panelling slides open to reveal a secret room.

He’s pulled to the far end and nearly collapses against the wall. His breath comes in short bursts, his mind blanking as he gets more and more lightheaded. The other man—Ramon—grabs him by the upper arms, and frowns. Barry’s shaking like a leaf.

A vibrating, gloved hand shoots through the wall of the secret room and he nearly faints on the spot. Ramon presses his hand against his mouth to muffle his incoherent rambling, but Zoom is as terrifying as he’s ever been. Blue lightning crests off his body, his inhuman eyes scanning the area. A low rumbling comes from his chest and Barry swears that he’s looking right at him.

Then, he leaves just as fast as he entered.

Ramon lets him go but he still can’t breathe, clutching helplessly at his chest. That vibrating hand—he’s seen that trick before. Done to civilians, to his colleagues, to his friends, to you. Iris had told him that he shouldn’t watch the security footage from that day, but Barry couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing what happened to you and now—

Did it hurt? Did Zoom know who you were, targeted you specifically because of him? His chest is tightened so much that he feels as though a thousand-pound weight was pressing down on it. His ring is painful around his finger.

Zoom killed you. Drove his hand through your chest like it was nothing.

Wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them, too.

“We need to move.” Dr. Wells already starts his way towards the exit, Ramon beside him. “We need to find a different place to hide and make a plan.”

“No.”

His voice is so weak that he doesn’t know if he’d made a sound at all. They turn around to face him and Ramon’s face softens into concern. “Barry, you okay?”

“No, no—no, I can’t—” Barry gasps for air and Ramon places his hands on his shoulders, steadying him. “I can’t go against Zoom. Please don’t make me go against Zoom.”

Ramon shoots a helpless look at Dr. Wells. He sighs, slings the gun over his shoulder. “You’re one of, if not, the best crime scene investigator in the city, Dr. Allen. We need your help.”

“You don’t understand, I—” Barry’s eyes start to water and he grinds his teeth to stop his voice from trembling.

“Zoom”—he flinches at the name—“has my daughter. I don’t know where. I don’t know if she’s still alive.” Dr. Wells’ gaze is steady and determined, but Barry can see the worry underneath it all. “So let me rephrase that. I need your help.”

We’ll lose. Barry bites back the words, instead nodding mutely. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “We can go to my lab in the CCPD; you can explain everything on the way.”

They switch off on the storytelling. Another world. Another Flash.

Joe is dead.

During it all, Barry can see their glances at him through the mirrors but refuses to make eye contact, fumbling with his hands. He can’t handle anything more right now.

“Barry!” Iris calls out as they walk out of the elevator. “I didn’t think you were coming into work today. Are you sure you want to be here?”

“No,” he responds flatly and makes his way up to the lab without looking back. Every step he takes fills him with dread.

Barry slumps into his chair, letting them find their own places to settle down in. He rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes as Cisco—Cisco and Harry, they had properly introduced themselves in the car—tells a shortened version of their story to Iris.

“So that’s why you weren’t wearing your wedding ring yesterday.” Barry swallows thickly and nods.

“They want your help to find Zoom,” he explains. Hopes that Iris can come up with some miraculous solution to this problem so he doesn’t have to. “He has Harry’s daughter and their Barry.”

Iris’ words are quieter now. “I’ve done everything I could to try and track him down. The only person who would know where he would be hiding someone would be a meta that’s worked with him.”

“Like Killer Frost?”

“Even if you could get her to help us, finding her would be just as hard as finding Zoom,” she states. “But, if anyone can do it…”

Iris lets the sentence hang in the air. Barry shakes his head, takes off his glasses to dig palms into his eyes. “You know I can’t.”

“What is your problem with Zoom?” Harry asks, crossing his arms. “It’s not a general dislike nor anger at his actions you feel—what did he do to you?”

Cisco raises a hand to stop him. He takes a slow step forwards. “Barry—our Barry—was torn up about something last night, but he wouldn’t tell us what.”

“Yeah, I can imagine why,” he mutters. Barry stands up, walks over to his desk to where papers are strewn about the surface but he knows what he’s looking for.

Framed beside his monitor, you’re beaming at him from in front of the camera. Neon lights from the carnival colour your hair; if Barry had been a little further, he would have gotten the teddy bear you had just won in the shot as well. He twists his ring.

“Last year, Zoom attacked the city square. It had been a few months since we last saw him, so some people started to believe that he was gone for good,” Barry exhales shakily. “Too much hope, he called it.”

Iris’ hands are folded tightly on her lap. Harry and Cisco shift to see what Barry’s looking at. There’s a quiet gasp.

“My wife was on her way to work. She loved that route because whenever she had spare change in her pocket, she’d make a wish in the fountain. Said that it had come true when I came home safe that day.

“Then Zoom showed up. Told the world to remember that we were at his mercy.” There’s rustling behind him, a hushed conversation that Barry can’t quite pick up aside from a firm: not a word, Ramon. “She was gone before the CCPD even got there.”

“What was her name?” Harry asks.

“Y/N.” Barry smiles sadly when he says your name. “She was the best person I’ve ever known.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Harry comes to stand beside him, averts his eyes from the photo of the person he spoke to not forty-eight hours ago. “My wife was a force of nature. Smarter than me, more cunning, more charismatic.”

He knows the story; the death of Tess Morgan had been covered all over the news when it happened. For the first time since Barry’s met him, Harry has a shadow of happiness on his face.

“No matter how much time goes by, we never really stop thinking about them, do we?”

Barry sighs. His heart still aches, but for now, at least, it’s motivation. “I can locate Killer Frost. Just… give me a minute.”

“Get out of here.”

Iris presses a hand on his shoulder, urging Barry forwards. Jesse and Cisco are beside him as they make their way to the entrance, but he can’t help to look back at Killer Frost—her hands outstretched, freezing Zoom to the floor of the cavern. He remembers her expression when the name Ronnie was said, the clench of her jaw.

Zoom killed him, too.

When they get back to S.T.A.R. Labs, Harry immediately starts scrambling for supplies. The others prepare to travel back through the breach they came through and Iris shoots him a look, a helpless shake of her head. What happens to them now?

“You guys need to get out of Central City, alright? Any place you think you’ll be safe from Zoom?” The other Barry walks up to them.

“We have some friends in Atlantis that can—”

The alarm goes off again. Barry’s blood runs cold and Iris grabs his arm. “We need to go.”

“We can’t,” he realizes, dread washing over him. “Zoom is faster than us, stronger than us. We’ll never make it out of the city, much less the building.”

“What are you saying?”

He tries to speak but nothing comes out. Barry turns towards his doppelganger, who nods empathetically in understanding.

“You have to come with us.”

“Just like that? Barry”—she steps in front of him, holds his gaze—”we can’t leave Zoom to terrorize our world.”

“You stay here and you won’t live to save it,” Harry states. Nods towards them. “Dr. Allen is right.”

He doesn’t want to be. For all the horrors and pain and devastation Barry’s been through, this is his home. Where he grew up, went to school, met and married you. He swallows down his nerves. “Let’s go.”

First Cisco and Jesse, then him. When he emerges to the other side, the first thing he hears is someone calling his name, arms extending to pull him away from the breach.

Iris is looking up at him, worried, but—it’s not her. She’s out of uniform and her hair cascades unusually over her shoulders. A quick glance around sees a woman who looks suspiciously like Killer Frost, and—

“Joe?” He murmurs, dazed. The man claps his shoulder and brings him into a hug.

“You’re going to have to tell me everything that happened, later,” Joe flicks his glasses for emphasis and he recoils.

“I’m—I’m not—”

The energy warps and phases behind him. Iris, his Iris, comes out. The other Barry follows behind with Harry in tow.

“Close it! Close it now!” Confusion sweeps across the room as eyes fall between him and his doppelganger, but Cisco is fast and throws a device at the breach.

What happens next is a blur to him; the Flash from his earth is there, then, isn’t, as Zoom reaches through to pull him back to their world. Someone screams, a hand pushing him behind them. Footsteps come running into the room.

“I saw what happened—is everyone okay?”

Barry stops breathing.

He knows that voice. Heard it say good morning and goodnight nearly everyday for the best years of his life; I love you and I do. He wants to turn around. Wants to see your face and smile again, hear your laugh. There are so many things he didn’t get to tell you that it hurts him to think about it.

But Barry’s dreamed of this for so long that he fears that it’s just his mind playing tricks. That this whole experience of doppelgangers and other worlds has just been one huge dream that he’ll wake up from at any moment now. He also knows that, logically, you aren’t his Y/N. You might not like or love him like you did in the other world. Might barely know him to begin with.

All of that gets pushed aside when he turns around.

“Y/N?”

His voice is barely above a whisper. You’re as beautiful as he remembers and he chides himself for ever thinking that all those photographs could ever do you justice. His eyes well up. Barry wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms again, and the only thing stopping him is the last scrap of rationality he has left, as weak as how he’s felt for the past year.

“You’re alive.”

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