#Test your damn updates before releasing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 year ago

Text

Heaven is a place on earth

Summary: With Joel being out on Patrol you decided to take a long relaxing bath in the bathtub Joel had installed for you. Once Joel came back home, he wanted to join the fun, not even taking off his clothes before getting to you in the tub.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: established relationship, smut (unprotected bath tub sex), teasing, fluff, dumb humour, the Queen Celine Dion (not in person, just in music)

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified for new fic updates

You were alone in the house.

Something you still had to get used to.

Joel was out on patrol and Ellie had officially moved out (she had turned nineteen earlier this year) and in with her girlfriend. Joel might have teared up once she really had picked all her stuff up and moved it. Yes, it was just across the street but still.

You made sure to show him all the benefits of not having a teenager living under the same roof and while he still missed her, he loved to have his way with you wherever he wanted.

Coming to Jackson was pure luck for you.

You had arrived in town just before Joel and Ellie. And by arrived you meant Tommy had found you unconscious and starving close to death while he was out on patrol. It had taken a month until you had been released from the clinic in Jackson.

It was almost scary how normal life in Jackson was. Sometimes it still overwhelmed you when you took a hot shower and then went into your warm bed.

Life got even better when you and Joel got together. Which… did take almost a year with both of you being too damn stubborn to admit and commit to your feelings but since then?

He was the best thing that had happened to you and you could not wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

Tonight you treated yourself to a hot bath. The bathtub had been a gift to you for your last birthday from Joel. It was a freestanding vintage bathtub with iron claws that made you feel like a princess every time you had the time to take a bath.

You had mentioned to him how your favorite thing to do pre outbreak was taking a long hot bath in the tiny tub you had in your apartment back then. You would light candles and turn on music and just relax.

You still did not know where he found it but you were forever grateful.

Carrying the tub up in the bathroom had apparently taken the strength of six men. Not that you would know. You were out on a run to get some ingredients from a trader Jackson had made connections with for two days together with Ellie while it had been installed in the home you shared with Joel.

You had found out that both you and Joel fit into the tub when you thanked him thoroughly for his gift when you were back.

Smiling, you took off your clothes in your bedroom, putting on the pink robe that Joel told you had come with the house when he moved in.

For the first time you had made bath bombs today and intended to test them.

Two years ago you had been allowed to open a tiny drugstore section in the general trade store of Jackson where you offered your handmade creams and soaps and everything else you could manage to make.

Before the outbreak it had been a hobby to make your own and gift it to family and friends. Now it was a little luxury you brought back to Jackson.

Your whole garden was filled with herbs and fruit and every flower that smelled good you could use to make your products. You even sold some to your neighbor who used lavender and rosemary to make scented candles with his own harvested beeswax.

You lit one of these candles when you got to the bathroom.

After the bathtub had been installed you had spent a month renovating the bathroom with the help of Joel and Ellie. The walls were now painted in a light blue, the floors tiled with dark gray tiles Joel had found in the basement of the house.

You turned the water on, your fingers checking the temperature until it was just right before you went downstairs. Opening one of the cabinets in the kitchen you took out the single wine glass you owned and then poured some of the first edition of Jackson’s red wine that had successfully been made. You inhaled the rich scent with a small smile before you grabbed the glass and the little basket with the bath bombs you had made and walked back up.

The tub was halfway full when you were back upstairs. You set your wine glass down on the chair next to the tub and you grabbed one of the bathbombs, the lavender one and put it in the tub, watching as it slowly dissolved, the calming scent of lavender filling your nose.

Humming with a small smile and satisfied that it worked, you turned around to take your bathrobe off. You put it on the sink before you walked towards the shelf next to the window across the tub to turn on the radio. It was solar powered and had a cassette deck. You pressed play and the cassette inside played Celine Dion. The tape had been stuck in there ever since you got here and by now it was a running joke.

It made you wonder if Celine had survived the outbreak and if so, what she was doing.

More than once you caught Joel singing along to “Because you loved me”, the song the radio played now, while getting ready in the morning and you failed every single time to not tease him about it, mostly because he would deny doing it in the first place.

You shut the water off, dipping your toes into the tub to check the temperature. Nodding to yourself you carefully got into the tub and slowly sat down, releasing a content moan as the warm water enveloped your body.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes as you leaned your head on the edge of the tub.

This was as close as you could get to heaven if there was one.

Humming along to the song you reached for your wine glass, taking a long sip.

You could almost pretend the outbreak never happened in times like these. You had spent many evenings like this before the outbreak. You had just turned 28 when it happened. Sometimes you still asked yourself how you made it this far, having spent years in absolute fear of what was happening around you.

You hadn’t even watched horror movies before the outbreak, too scared to go to sleep after.

So yeah, the first time you saw someone infected you fainted (and you were not too proud to admit that), the only reason you survived had been your father.

You were halfway through the wine glass, Celine singing about the Power of love when you heard the door downstairs open. You heard heavy footsteps and a long groan before Joel called for you.

“In the tub!” you called back, setting your wine glass down.

It took a minute until he appeared in the door to the bathroom, having taken his shoes off and his flannel unbuttoned, the former white shirt he was wearing now almost gray from the dust and dirt from being outside all day.

A smirk came to his face.

“Enjoyin’ yourself, darlin’?” he asked. You nodded with a dreamy smile, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Patrol okay?” you asked. He nodded.

“Found you some eucalyptus. Brought back a tiny plant that was growing next to the tree. We can plant it tomorrow,” he walked over to you, bending down to kiss you softly. You smiled against his lips.

“You did? Where?"

He grabbed the wine glass, taking a sip.

“New route on the west border. Might explore the town over some more now that it’s free of infected,” he said, setting the glass back down. Groaning he got down on his knees, his arms on the edge of the tub, leaning close to you.

“You smell good,” he hummed.

“Made some bathbombs today for the first time. Had to test them,” you said all serious and he chuckled.

“Should have come home earlier, could have tested them together,” he kissed your nose.

“You look tired,” you said, reaching your hand over, your fingers brushing over his hair and he closed his eyes, nodding.

“Was ready to fall to bed immediately before I got here. But then I saw you…”

“That filthy?” you asked, seemingly shocked. He chuckled.

“I remember you liking me all filthy,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I do love you all filthy,” you winked and he nodded.

“I do love you squeaky clean too, though,” you said and he tilted his head, considering your words. The song in the background changed again while he pulled himself up from the floor with a long groan.

You raised your left eyebrow, watching him, as he pulled his shirt off.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

He did not say anything, taking his socks off with the patience of a saint before he looked at you with a glint in his eye. You cried his name, laughing loudly when he put his feet into the tub, still wearing his jeans and shirt, before he knelt down.

“You gonna flood the bathroom,” you giggled, making room for him.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, clothes now drenched, his hands on the edge of the tub as he let himself sink down on top of you, finding your lips in a sloppy kiss.

You laughed against his lips, opening your arms to push your hands into his hair. He parted from you, pulling his shirt off, throwing it on the floor, revealing inch after inch of his gloriously tanned skin (thanks to working shirtless in the garden with you).

He looked at you with dark eyes as he worked his pants open.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed with a laugh, trying to push the denim down his legs. You giggled, sitting yourself up to help him.

“You take your socks and shirt off and not your pants?”

“Wasn’t thinking clearly,” he chuckled.

“Clearly,” you teased.

It was a struggle but you both got it off of him, letting it flop down on the flooded bathroom floor. You parted your legs as he let himself slowly fall against your chest again, hooking your legs around his back as he kissed you again.

“Want you,” he mumbled and you sighed, parting your lips in a silent cry as he kissed himself down your neck.

“Sit back,” you moaned, following him to sit in his lap as he sat down, your arms wrapping around his back as you kissed him again. One of his hands was on your back, pushing your upper body against his, the other on your ass, groping and kneading your skin. Slowly you rolled your hips, his cock already hard beneath you while you made out with him.

“Wanna fuck you, Joel,” you mumbled against his lips. He kissed down your jaw.

“You ready for me?” he asked, sucking on the soft skin beneath your ear, making you tremble.

“Always ready for you,” you whispered. You reached into the water between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping him slowly. He moaned against your ear.

“Won’t last long,” he warned as you moved your hips to line him up against you.

“That’s okay. Just wanna make you feel good,” you said and he looked at you while you slowly let yourself sink down on him. Taking every inch of his cock.

There was a little pain as you got used to him inside of you. Usually Joel would take his time with you to prepare you for him, going down on you and making you cum at least once before he gave you his cock.

But you wanted him. Wanted to be close to him, to have him inside of you. You’d take being a little sore after, to have this moment with him now.

“Always feel so fucking perfect,” he kissed you softly. “Made for me,” he hummed.

You just let yourself sit on him for a couple minutes, enjoying the closeness while Joel showered your skin with kisses.

Slowly you began to move your hips.

You both moaned as you pushed yourself up, your hands coming to rest on the edge of the tub as you arched your back. Joel used this chance to bring his hands up to your tits, squeezing them in his big hands.

You rode him slowly, the water moving beside you and splashing outside the tub but you couldn’t care less.

“Fuck,” he moaned and one of his hands ran down your torso until his fingers were on your clit, rubbing quick circles.

“Think you can cum like this?” he asked.

You hummed, not really knowing if you could as you closed your eyes, riding him harder. This was about him, you didn’t care if you came. He began to thrust up into you and you moaned.

“Keep doing that,” you moaned.

“Gonna cum, fuck,” he groaned, continuing to rub your clit.

You felt him pulse inside of you as he came.

He kept thrusting up into you, his lips closing around one of your nipples and then he sucked.

“Fuck,” you cried out, surprised as your orgasm washed over you.

His lips released your nipple and his arms came around you, pulling you close against him, his face nuzzled against your neck, his lips against your skin.

“Not gonna clean the floors,” you mumbled tiredly and he laughed.

“I will, don’t you worry, honey.”

You were resting against his chest, his arms around you. The glass of wine was almost empty and you couldn’t remember the last time you were this relaxed and happy.

The water was getting cold and you’d soon have to leave this little piece of heaven.

That’s when you noticed “My heart will go on” playing on your radio and you began to chuckle.

“What’s going on?” Joel mumbled against your ear.

“Just find it funny that the Titanic song comes after you sank your little ships into the ocean,” you said.

He did not react.

“You know when you came inside of me?”

He still didn’t say anything.

“I’m the ocean and your cum are the little….”

“Please stop talking,” he interrupted you, groaning, his chest shaking beneath you as he chuckled.

“You love it,” you grinned, turning your head back so you could look at him.

“I do,” he said, a soft smile on his lips before he kissed you.

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #tlou #tlou fanficion

300 notes · View notes

breachverse · 2 years ago

Text

Breach: Chicago War Zone - WIP Update 14 - 10th of February 2023

I didn't think I'd be able to finish it this month considering my hard drive decided to corrupt itself, but, goddamn, I did it.

WIP Update 14 has been released! Chapter 2 Part 2 for both routes have started all the way up to the first chance of a downtime. Though you can't hangout with anyone, except for Hayne, you can now enjoy the limited shop for both the Archangel AND the FBI route, as well as the completed skill training feature.

Breach: Chicago War Zone (Updated)

DEVELOPMENT LOG#14 (10-February-2023)

(B2.1.1.22.12.20)

Alpha - 14

Tons of bug fixes typos and grammar fixes

Added the ability to buy plasma cutter pre-hangout

Added ARC skills training and store (limited)

Added FBI skills training and store (very limited)

Fixed FBI armory not being free. (Everything should now be free)

Tweaked a few of the weapon's descriptions to be available for both routes

Tweaked several weapon accessories token modifiers

Tweaked available accessories for the UTS-15

Added Flash Grenades

Added AR-10 Battle rifle (I know, I'm calling it one)

Added KSG-12 Shotgun

Added RPD Machine gun

Added AK-12 Assault rifle

Alpha - 14

Added Chapter Part restart feature to Show Stats screen (Testing)

Added Settings tab to the Show Stats screen (Testing)

Added Cheats tab to the Show Stats screen (Testing)

Added Hayne's 1st hangout

W.I.P.: Chapter 2 Part 2 of The AA branch (23%) W.I.P.: Chapter 2 Part 2 of The FBI branch (23%) W.I.P.: AA Hangout (9%) W.I.P.: AA Store system (60%) W.I.P.: FBI Hangout (9%) W.I.P.: FBI Store system (50%) W.I.P.: Stat screen upgrade (30%) COMPLETED: Chapter 2 Part 1 of The AA branch (100%) COMPLETED: Chapter 2 Part 1 of The FBI branch (100%)

Word Count: 656,856 words including codes (Last update was 637,822)

The private testing for this was uploaded last month so technically I managed to get an update out once month but still… it was quite a delay and I'm terribly sorry.

For those who don't know, I had a horrible setback in which my computer's hard drive decided to bork itself and I had to reinstall windows. I lost a small number of data but it took me some time to rebuild my database and retrieve data from my corrupted hard drive. Thankfully, Breach itself is saved due to the number of backups I've made and the precaution of having multiple copies on different hard drives.

More detail on the situation on this post if you want to see the exact problem I was having.

But, all of that is past now and though I am still building up everything again, I was able to get my workspace back in order and thankfully, I've managed to finish this damn update before the end of the month for private testing, and added a few things for the public update.

The update also consists some scenes for the ARC route where if you choose to do the prep work for the grate work or wall work in the tunnels under the bank, as well as some new scenes for the FBI route where [spoiler]if you let Greg escape during the raid, he'll want to meet with you and he'll give you some secrets about the trio.[/spoiler]

I'm sorry it's taken so long, and thank you for being so patient. It's not a huge update, but it features the shop and the skill training system in-game where you can buy and change your gear however you wish, though the FBI armoury is quite limited for now.

Thank you all for your patience.

Much love! ❤️

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

Link to the CoG Forums post

I also have a Discord server!

As always feel free to drop however many screenshot feedbacks you'd like, either in the forums or in our Discord channel!

#breachverse #breach update #breach: chicago warzone #choice of games #interactive fiction #bcwz #breach the archangel job #if wip #choicescript #hosted games #cyoa #dashingdon #if game #interactive novel #breachverse news #btaj

193 notes · View notes

layce2015 · 2 years ago

Text

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Faith

Masterlist

*3rd Person POV*

The familiar Impala drives up to this abandoned house and then parks in front of it. Sam, Dean and (y/n) walk out and open the trunk. Dean removes two tasers. "What do you got those amped up to?" Sam asked Dean. "A hundred thousand volts." Dean replied.

"Damn." (Y/n) said, shocked. "Yeah, I want this rawhead extra frickin' crispy. And remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count." Dean said as he hands one taser to Sam and the other to (y/n) then grabs a third one for him.

The trio move down the basement stairs with guns and flashlights until they hear a noise. They look around and see a cupboard against the wall. Dean looks at Sam and (y/n) then whispered. "On three. One. Two. Three."

Dean swings open the door, revealing a young boy and girl crouched down inside, both of them were covering their ears. "Is it still here?" Sam asked them and the children nod. "Ok. Grab your sister's hand, come on, we gotta get you out of here." (Y/n) said to the boy and they nod again.

"Let's go, let's go." Dean said and they move towards the stairs.

"Alright, go!" Dean shouts and Sam starts to take the children upstairs when a hand grabs his legs, knocking him back down. The children scream and run to the top of the stairs. "Sam!" Dean and (y/n) shout as Dean shoots the taser but misses. "Sam, get 'em outta here!" Dean shouts and Sam throws his taser to Dean.

"Here take this!" Sam said and he runs up the stairs and moves the children out of sight.

Dean and (y/n) move around the basement on high alert, shining their flashlights into corners. "Come on!" Dean said and the two start to split off in different directions. Suddenly, a ragged, hairy creature leaps up and shoves (y/n) backwards. She loses her weapon and her flashlight as she falls.

She glances around, scrambles across the puddles of water, grabs the taser and releases it toward the creature as it moves toward her, electrocuting him. The electricity moves from the creature through the water lying on the ground to (y/n). They both shake and twitch as the electric shock goes through their bodies until the creature falls over and (y/n) loses consciousness.

"(Y/n)!" Dean shouts as he runs over to her, a look of worry and concern etched across his face. "(Y/n)? No, no, no, no!" He mutters in a panic when she didn't move or respond. Sam runs down the stairs and sees Dean kneeling before (y/n).

"Dean! (Y/n)!" Sam shouts as he runs over to Dean, who had half lifted (y/n) and was holding her face with his other hand.

"What the hell happened?" Sam asked as tears formed into Dean's eyes. "C'mon, (y/n). C'mon!" Dean pleads.

****

Later, the Winchester brothers were standing at the desk with a receptionist at a hospital. After the incident, they brought (y/n) here to at least try to save her life. So far, the Doctors hadn't given them any updates since they told the boys they were taking her in for tests.

"Sirs', I'm so sorry to ask. There doesn't seem to be any insurance on file." The receptionist said to them. "Right. Uh, ok." Sam said then he looks over after Dean, who gives a curt nod.

Sam removes a card from his wallet and hands it to the woman, who glances at the card. "Okay, Mr. Burkovitz." She said as Sam turns around and sees two cops waiting. He sighs then walks over to them, Dean following close behind.

"Look, we can finish this up later." One of the officer's said. "No, no, it's okay. We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. And, um, the windows were rolled down, we heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped. Ran in." Sam replied while Dean looks down at his feet.

"And you found the kids in the basement?" The cop asked them. "Yeah." Both boys replied. "Well, thank God you did." The cop said just as the doctor walks towards them. Dean starts to walk over to the Doctor while Sam looks back at the cops.

"Excuse us." He said. "Sure. Thanks for your help." The cop said and Sam nods then follows Dean.

"Hey, Doc. Is she..." Dean started to ask but the doctor raises a hand towards him. "She's resting." he replied. "And?" Dean and Sam asked in unison. "The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. Her heart...it's damaged." The doctor said and Dean clenches his jaw as Sam's eyes widen and his jaw drops, slightly.

"How damaged?" Sam asked him. "We've done all we can. We can try and keep her comfortable at this point. But, I'd give her a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month." The doctor said and the frightened look washes over Sam's face while there was anger on Dean's face.

"No, no. There's, there's...gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment." Dean said, roughly. "We can't work miracles. I really am sorry." The doctor said and, upset, Dean walks away while Sam looks over at his brother with worry.

****

*(y/n)'s POV*

God, this boring! I thought as I watch the TV in the room. All that was on was some boring soap opera shows or some dumb daytime talk show. I hear the door to my room open and I slightly look over to see Dean had walked in. But I quickly turn my eyes back to the TV

"Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible." I said, my voice was very soft and weak. I almost sounded like I had a sore throat. "Sam and I talked to your doctor." Dean said as I heard the door open again, meaning Sam had walked in.

"That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down." I growled and I hear Dean sighing at this.

"(Y/n)." Sam said and I look up at them. I let out a small sigh then turned the TV off. "Yeah. All right, well, looks like you boys are gonna leave town without me." I said, resigned.

"What are you talking about? We're not gonna leave you here." Dean said. "Hey, you two better take care of my bike... and my safehouses. Or, I swear, I'll haunt both of your asses." I said.

"I don't think that's funny." Sam said and Dean shakes his head. "Yeah, neither do I." He said.

"Oh, come on, it's a little funny." I said as I give them a small smirk.

There was a long silence between us while both boys look down at the floor. "Dean...Sam..." I said, very softly, and they look back at me. "What can I say, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story." I said, shrugging. "Don't talk like that, alright?" Dean said, roughly.

"We still have options." Sam suggests. "What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And neither of you can't stop it." I said to them. "Watch us." Sam said and I give them a concern look.

****

*3rd Person POV*

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help." John's voicemail message said as Sam had the phone in his ears and Dean was in the bathroom, taking a shower.

"Hey, Dad. It's Sam. Uh...you probably won't even get this, but, uh...it's (y/n). She's sick, and uh...the doctors say there's nothing they can do. Dean is pretty....he's pretty broken up about it. Even if he doesn't want to admit it. Um...but, uh, they don't know the things we know, right? So, don't worry, cause we're uh...gonna do whatever it takes to get her better. Alright...just wanted you to know." Sam said as he tried his best to fight back tears and not cry.

He hangs up then tosses his phone on the bed and just sits there silently. Sam just couldn't believe he was gonna lose his best friend in the whole world, this didn't feel right. He had been searching for any clue on how to help her while Dean, at first, did help search but stopped and just moped about. After a few days, Sam had hoped that this specialist in Nebraska could help.

There was a knock on the door, which takes him out of his thoughts, and he looks up quickly, tears in his eyes. Dean had just walked out of the bathroom as Sam goes to the door and opens it to find (y/n) leaning against the door frame, looking terrible Her eyes darken and her face looked gaunt.

****

*(y/n)'s POV*

After I knocked on the door, it opens and I see Sam standing there and he looked confused and surprised to see me. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asked me as I see Dean come up from behind him. "I checked myself out." I said to him.

"What, are you crazy?" Dean asked as I entered the room and leaned against everything with reach. "Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the male nurses or doctors aren't even hot." I joked while Dean huffs at this and Sam scoffs and shuts the door.

"You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it." Dean said to me. "Yeah, whatever, dude." I grumbled as I go to one of the chairs nearby. I look up at them and get a better look and realized they looked like they hadn't slept well.

"Have you boys even slept? You two look worse than me." I said as both of them go to help me in a chair. "I've been scouring the Internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal." Sam said.

"For what?" I asked him.

"For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist." Sam said and I look up at him and chuckled.

"You boys are not gonna let me die in peace, are you?" I said.

"We're not gonna let you die, period. We're going." Sam said to me and I let out an exasperated sigh.

****

The Impala bumps along a rutted gravel road toward a large white circus tent set up in a field. The boys and I could see people making their way toward the tent across the very muddy ground, many on walking sticks or helped by others.

Once we get parked, the boys get out and Dean runs around to help me as I open the door and look around. A sign next to the tent reads The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." I grumbled as I get out of the car. Dean was helping me out as Sam comes over to me. "Here..." Sam said but Dean pushes him away and growls. "I got it."

"Dean..." I said, exasperated, and he glances at me then nodded as he holds my arm. "Sam...I thought you said we were going to see a doctor." I said to him as I look at the white tent. "I believe I said a specialist. Look, (y/n), this guy's supposed to be the real deal." Sam said as Dean shakes his head.

"I can't believe you brought her here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent." He grumbles at Sam.

"Reverend LeGrange is a great man." An elderly woman, who was passing by us, said. "Yeah, that's nice." Dean mutters as we walk past an angry man remonstrating with a cop.

"I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he's milking all these people out of their hard-earned money." The man shouted. "Sir, this is a place of worship. Let's go. Move it." said the Officer and they walk away.

"I take it he's not part of the flock." I remarked as I gestured toward the man. "But when people see something they can't explain, there's controversy." Sam said. "I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?" I exclaimed. "Maybe it's time to have a little faith, (y/n)." Sam tries to assure me.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on." I stated and Dean nods. "I agree." He said and Sam looks between us.

"How can you two be skeptics? With the things we see everyday?" Sam asked us, astonished. "Exactly. We see them, we know there real." I said. "But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?" Sam asked me. "Because I've seen what evil does to good people." I replied as we get closer to entrance of the tent.

****

Then a young blonde man, who was walking in front of us, turns to us. "Maybe God works in mysterious ways." The guy said and I smile at him as I checked him out. He had wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, square-jawed, and well built, he looked like the cliche jock type boy that all the girls would fawn over.

"Maybe he does. I think you just turned me around on the subject." I said to him and he chuckles at this. "Yeah, I'm sure." He said.

"I'm (y/n). This is Dean and Sam." I introduced as I hold my hand out to him. "Liam." He said after he takes my hand and shakes it.

"So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?" Liam asked me. "Well, apparently my best friend here believes enough for the three of us." I said as I gesture between me and the boys.

Then an older woman approaches Liam andnpurs her arm around him. "Come on, Liam. It's about to start." She said then she smiles at the three of us and heads inside the tent. "Well, I bet you he can work in some mysterious ways." I said as I enter the tent.

****

*3rd Person POV*

As (y/n) was checking Liam out, Dean was feeling something in his chest, almost like something was burning. Then he realized...was he jealous? "Well, I bet you he can work in some mysterious ways." (Y/n) said, with a smile, as shs enters the tent. Dean scoffs then asked, quietly. "What does he got that I don't?"

Sam looks at Dean and gives him a slightly confused look until he realized what Dean was grumbling about. He starts to laugh. "A-Are you jealous?" Sam asked Dean, quietly. Dean looks at his brother then said. "No." Then he heads into the tent after (y/n) while Sam chuckles at this.

****

*(y/n)'s POV*

The tent was full of people finding seats, and then there was a small stage at the front where a lecturn stood with candles on it. "Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over." Dean mutters as he looks up. Sam and I follow his gaze and see a security camera up in the corner. I start to take a seat but Sam puts an arm around me and starts moving me toward the front.

"Come on." He said. "Don't! What are you doing? Let's sit here." I said as I point at the chair I was about to take.

"We're sitting up front." Sam told me. "What? Why?" Dean and I asked just as Sam starts moving me up the aisle. "Come on." He said and I rolled my eyes as Dean growls. "Oh, come on, Sam."

"You alright?" Sam asked me. "This is ridiculous." I grumbled as Sam points to three empty seats behind Liam and his mother. "Perfect." Sam said. "Yeah, perfect." Dean said, sarcastically.

"You take the aisle." Sam said to me as he leads Dean into the two inner chairs and Dean helps me in my chair. Even though I should be annoyed that he keeps helping me like I'm helpless, a part of me likes that he's being this tentative.

****

On the stage, a blind man wearing sunglasses, Roy LeGrange I presumed, was helped to the lecturn by a woman. "Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?" Roy said, gesturing towards the woman, and the crowd agrees with him. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act. But, I say to you, God is watching." Roy said.

"Yes he is." The crowd murmurs among each other.

"God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt." Roy said and the crowd nods and cheers or murmur. "It is the Lord who does the healing here friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts." Roy said and the crowd continues to murmur.

"Yeah, and into their wallets." I whispered to the boys and Dean chuckles under his breath.

"You think so, young lady?" Roy asked and I quickly look up just as the crowd immediately falls silent. I looked around at the crowd, nervously and embarrassed, before I speak. "Sorry."

"No, no. Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." Roy said and the crowd laughs. "What's your name, darling?" Roy asked me. I hesitate for a moment then clear my throat before I reply. "(Y/n)."

"(Y/n)." Roy said as he nods to himself. "I want-I want you to come up here with me." He said and the crowd begins to clap while Roy's wife, Sue Ann, moves to center stage, smiling at me. "No, it's ok." I said, shaking my head.

"What are you doing?!" Sam asked me in a whisper. "Being smart." Dean whispers back at him.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't cha?" Roy asked me and I hesitate again. "Well, yeah, but ahh..." I stammer but the crowd claps and makes encouraging noises. "... maybe you should just pick someone else." I said but I look to my side and see Sam is looking at me like I'm insane while the crowd claps loudly.

"Oh, no. I didn't pick you, (y/n), the Lord did." Roy said. "That's right! Yeah! Come on!" The crowd cheered and I look around at everyone. "Get up there!" Sam said to me, excitedly. I look at him then at Dean, hoping for some sort've answers. But all he did was shrug. I reluctantly rise to my feet and move toward the stage. Sue Ann moves to assist me and stands me next to Roy.

"You ready?" He asked me. "Look, no disrespect, but ahh, I'm not exactly a believer." I admitted. "You will be, honey. You will be." Roy said, smiling, then he turns to the crowd.

"Pray with me, friends." He said and the crowd lifts their arms up and joins hands with each other. Roy lifts his hands to the air, then places one of his hands on my shoulder, then the other on the side of my head.

"Alright now. Alright now." I hear Roy mutter to himself and immediately I felt weak at the knees and my head felt heavy. I sink to my knees while Roy still had his hand on my head. "Alright, now." Roy whispers as I wobble and my eyes fall back in my head and I slip and fall to the stage floor.

****

Then my eyes burst open and I began to gasp as I see Sam and Dean standing over me, both of them looked worried. The crowd were clapping like crazy as Dean had a hold of the front of my jacket, shaking me slightly. "Say Something!" Dean pleads.

I blink groggily and look up. Roy was also standing above me, hands out from his sides, palms up, looking happy.

But beside, and slightly behind, Roy was a tall man in a black suit with white hair, very white skin and extremely wrinkled skin. He stares at me then turns away and vanishes while I watched him, shocked.

****

"So, you really feel okay?" Sam asked me as we sit in a room back at the hospital. We came back, the next day, to make sure that this healing stuff actually worked as I do feel better. I feel like my old self before I got electrocuted.

"I feel fine, Sam." I said as I couldn't shake off this feeling. I mean, I should be happy for feeling better but...why do I feel so wrong about it?

****

The door to the room opens, breaking me out of my thoughts, as I look up and see the doctor coming in, holding som paperwork. "Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a woman your age should be having heart trouble, but, still it's strange it does happen." She said to me.

"What do you mean, strange?" I asked her. "Well, just yesterday, a young man like your boyfriend here, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack." She said, gesturing towards Dean then looks over at me and I nod back at her, not bothering to correct her that Dean wasn't my boyfriend. "Thanks, Doc." Dean said to her and she nods. "No problem." She said as she leaves the room.

****

"That's odd." I remarked. "Maybe it's a coincidence. People's hearts give out all the time, (nickname)." Sam said and I shake my head. "No, they don't." I replied as I go put my jacket back on.

"Look, (y/n), do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?" Sam asked me. "Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why." I admitted, loudly

"What feeling?" Dean asked me.

"When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong. I felt cold. And for a second...I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, guys, it was a spirit." I said.

"But if there was something there, (y/n), I think I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately." Sam said and I nod. "Yeah, I know psychic wonder. But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. Because I'm gonna tell ya, Sam, this is different than the visions you and I have experienced." I said to him.

Sam sighs while Dean nods slightly. "Yeah, alright. So, what do you wanna do?" Sam asked me. "I want you to go check out the heart attack guy. Dean and I will go visit the reverend." I tell them and both boys nod at me.

*****

That afternoon, Dean, Roy and I were sitting on the couch while Sue Ann was standing and filling up a glass. "I feel great. Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened." I said to them. "A miracle is what happened. Well, miracles come so often around Roy." Sue Ann said.

"When did they start? The miracles." Dean asked Roy. "Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, You just keep right on praying. I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone." Roy said as he takes off his sunglasses, revelaing that his eyes are white.

"If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it." He said to us. "And suddenly you could heal people." I said, questionable. "I discovered it afterward, yes. God's blessed me in many ways." Roy said. "And his flock just swelled overnight. And this is just the beginning." Sue Ann tells us.

"Can I ask you one last question?" I asked Roy.

"Of course you can." He said.

"Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?" I asked him. "Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest." Roy replied.

"What did you see in my heart?" I asked him. "A young lady with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished." Roy said and Dean and I look at each other, slightly surprised.

*****

After a few moments, Dean and I were leaving Roy's house when we see Liam and his mother were waiting to go in. "(Y/n), hey." Liam greets, brightly. "Hey." I said.

"How you feeling?" Liam asked. "I feel good. Cured, I guess." I said and he nods. "What are you doing here?" Dean asked Liam. "Oh, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend." Liam replied just as Sue Ann comes onto the porch.

"Liam?" She asked. "Yes, I'm here again." Liam said, softly, as he walks up to her. "Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now." Sue Ann said and Liam's mom's eyes widen at this.

"Sue Ann, please. This is our sixth time, he's got to see us." She said to Sue Ann. "Roy is well aware of Liam's situation. And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke." Sue Ann said before she goes back inside

Mrs. Rourke stares after her then turns to look at me and I could tell she was frustrated. "Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted." She spat at me. "Mom. Stop." Liam said to her as he places a hand on her shoulder. "No, Liam, this is too much. We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder." Mrs Rourke said.

"Liam, what's wrong?" I asked him. "I have this thing..." Liam said, hesitantly. "It's a brain tumor. It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say...." Mrs Rourke said until Liam puts a hand on his mother's shoulder, stopping her.

"I'm sorry." I said and Dean nods. "Yeah, me too." He said and Liam nods. "It's okay." Liam said and his mother slowly turns her head and stares into her son's eyes. "No. It isn't." She said then she turns to me, anger washed over her face.

"Why do you deserve to live more than my son?" She spat at me and this makes my heart shatter and even more guilty about this. "Now wait a damn minute..." Dean starts to argue but I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Dean, don't. It's okay." I said and Mrs Rourke scoffs then walks away.

Liam takes a deep shaky breath and follows her down the stairs. I turn and watch them go before I turn back and look at Roy's house.

****

Dean throws his keys on the bed as we enter the hotel room while I take off my jacket. "What'd you find out?" Dean asked Sam, who was at his laptop, while Dean takes off his jacket as well. "I'm sorry." Sam said, softly, as he looks up at us. "Sorry about what?" I asked.

"Marshall Hall died at 4:17." Sam replied and I stood there, stunned. "The exact time I was healed." I whispered. "Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time." Sam said.

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?" Dean asked and Sam nods. "Somehow. LeGrange...he's trading a life for another." Sam said and I raised a hand up.

"Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?" I asked and Sam gives me an upset look. "(Y/n), the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed." Sam said and I shake my head.

"You never should've brought me here." I said. "(Y/n), I was just trying to save your life." Sam said to me. "But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me." I said. "I didn't know." Sam exclaimed and I look at him. "I know...I know." I said, exasperated.

"The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?" Dean asked. "Oh, he's not doing it. Something else is doing it for him." I said, shaking my head slightly.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, curiously. "The old man I saw on stage. I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew." I said.

"You knew what? What are you talking about?" Sam asked me with worry. "There's only one thing that can give and take life like that." I said and Sam looks at me, confused, while Dean had his eyes widen in shock.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Dean asked me and I nod. "What?" Sam asked and I look back at Sam.

"We're dealing with a reaper." I replied.

104 notes · View notes

cru5h-cascades · 1 year ago

Text

Drizzle Season 2023 Trailer Breakdown!

Hey everyone! So we finally got a new trailer for Drizzle Season 2023 (and before y'all ask there was no Side Order in the trailer, unfortunately...) and damn this season's looking fresh! Anyways, here's my breakdown of the trailer (including some news that wasn't in the trailer!)

New splatband inkoming! In the trailer we get a preview of a new song called "Ripstop and Go" by a new splatband called H2Whoa!

New stage #1: Crableg Capital!

New weapon type #1: the Dread Wringer, a new slosher that shoots two slosher projectiles at once!

Also it appears that we're finally getting a second kit for the Tri-Stringer!

New stage #2: Shipshape Cargo Co. (suprisingly we aren't getting a returning stage... or are we...?)

New weapon type #2: Heavy Edit Splatling. Not too sure what this new splatling's gimick is, though.

GOLD DYNAMO IS FINALLY BEING ADDED TO THE GAME.

You can flip hats backwards now

Salmonid Smokeyard is coming back to Salmon Run!

We're getting new, interesting worksuits for Salmon Run as well!

Tableturf Battle cards reveal other returning weapons such as Goo Tuber Deco, a new Sloshing Machine (most likely Sloshing Machine Neo), Octobrush Nouveau, Bloblober Deco, Ballpoint Splatling Nouveau, and a new vanilla brella (most likely a sorella).

New king salmonid Tableturf Battle cards (if only we actually got a new king salmonid instead of just cards)

New challenges include Inkjets for Everyone (Too Many Trizookas but with inkjets), Swim It to Win It (not too sure what the gimick to this challange is), and Modded Rainmaker Test-Fire (where the rainmaker has 3 shots instead of one).

And that's all I could get from the trailer. Anyways here's some news that we DIDN'T get with the trailer!

Next splatfest will be held next month from the 8th to the 10th, celebrating S3's first anniversary! The theme? Well, hold onto your tentacles everyone because the next splatfest theme is.... Who would be the best leader? Shiver v Frye v Big Man! Basically we're getting a repeat of the S1 final splatfest, Callie v Marie, but without the change of one of Deep Cut's members getting squidnapped!

Not only will we be getting a splatfest next month, before the fest we'll be having a big run starting from September 1st to the 3rd! The stage hasn't been announced yet, but I will post an update once we get more news about the big run!

We're getting Deep Cut badges! These badges can be earned by playing 10x battles! And if you can't win a 10x battle or can't make it this splatfest, you can win them in other splatfests!

Speaking of banner decor, everyone will be able to recieve Deep Cut banners via Splatoon 3's news channel on the switch starting the begining of Drizzle Season 2023!

And finally, the moment you've all been waiting for... NEW DEEP CUT AMIIBOS WILL BE RELEASING NOVEMBER 17TH! We don't know what gear we'll be getting just yet, but hey! They're here!

And that's all the news about the update we have so far! Of course we're still going to get more news on Twitter (I'll never refer to the site as X! NEVER!), so I'll post more about the update if something signifigcant is posted. Staaay fresh, everyone!

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #splatoon update #trailer analysis

16 notes · View notes

yourbestpalpercy · 1 year ago

Text

Will update this often.

Making this an au now. Don’t know what to call it though but I figured out Pal’s defeat. His animatronic catches on fire and explodes. He is barely able to escape, being heavily burnt. (Canon)

Other Ideas:

Pal is an old friend of Nick who recently got a robotics degree (Canon)

Nick usually teases Pal on his height (Canon)

Pal built Percy Poodle as a revenge ploy for Nick abandoning him/leaving him behind for “some stupid daydream” (Canon)

Pal made some other animatronics he could control but he didn’t like the animals he based them around. (Noncanon)

The Tamaterrors are still around. They’re small desk pals that Pal made as tests for things he could add to Percy Poodle. He likes Roachi the most for it’s swarming capabilities. (Canon)

Bruti can very much still break through walls. (Canon)

Percy Poodle has extendable limbs that Pal got from TamaLanki (Canon)

Being Pal’s roommate must suck. Welcome to the sound of someone eating cereal at 4:56am or watching reruns of bad animated shows because Pal almost never sleeps. Probably why he thought that trying to kill Nick was a good idea (Canon)

As a reference to the stream:

Pal: *Laughter as he leans in, placing the Percy Poodle arms around him. The glass changing to the cup minigame* “Go on Nick..! Pick a cup! You already know what will happen if you pick wrong!”

Nick: *Picks correctly within seconds, completely done with Percy’s bullshit.* “Why is your cup game so damn easy?”

Pal: “E-Easy?! What are you talking about?! I-I was told it’s pretty dang hard!”

Nick: “You saying you didn’t code it?”

Pal: “No, Viola did..! She said it would be near impossible!”

Nick: “Come on Percy, I expected harder from you.”

Pal: “I-I didn’t code it!”

Nick: “I mean, you managed to make this huge mech and STILL couldn’t code a hard cup game?”

Pal: “I DIDN’T- CODE IT!!”

Nick: “Should’ve!” (Noncanon)

Other ideas:

Viola was a good friend of Pal but after he started becoming rude and too caught up in his plans for revenge, Viola stopped being friends with Pal (Noncanon)

Pal has anger issues despite his nerd look (Canon)

After the bossfight, Pal screeches at Nick, who left him behind, and explains why he even tricked Nick into coming back, explaining that he had aimed to kill him or at least torture him. He also demands that Nick calls an ambulance

Idea for before the Percy animatronic is destroyed:

Pal: “DO YOU THINK YOU’VE WON, YOU PRICK?! We were supposed to be BEST PALS! I was supposed to stick by you forever and ever! And now you’re just gonna leave me again?! You can’t…I won’t let you! You can still take me with you..we can still be friends! This is what I made this mech for! You understand that r-!”

Nick: “I-I’m not..”

Pal: “What..?”

Nick: “I’m not taking you with with me Percy, this has gone too far..”

Pal: “……” *The size comparison is incredible and I just wanna say Nick has guts of steel saying that to Pal Percy in the original game. Like- that is a very big animatronic that has already tried to kill you.*

Pal: “Alright! Suit yourself!” *Pal smiles, pressing a button in the mech.*

Nick: “…Huh? Really?”

Pal: *Percy grabs Nick suddenly.* “Of course not! Y’know, I was willing to let you go but you’ve proved that’s not an option! I was afraid I was gonna have to do this but it looks like I’ll have to end this friendship..!” *Pal grin, releasing the tamaterrors.* “Permanently…” *Pal giggled before beginning to laugh like a madman. He pauses suddenly, sniffing the air.* “…Do I smell..smoke?”

Nick: *He looks at Percy’s tail.* “Uh…Percy?”

Pal: “It’s fine..I..” *The animatronic suddenly goes into distress mode and ends up blowing up, launching Pal.* (Canon)

Idea for ending dialogue:

Nick: “Now then, explain to me what the HELL was going through your mind to think this was a good idea!”

Pal: *Pal growls and glares at Nick.* “Oh you wanna know?! YOU WANNA KNOW?! I did it because you LEFT me behind! You left me to go chase some STUPID ASS DAYDREAM about working at a PIZZERIA! One that sucks! Absolutely sucks! The pizza sucks, the games suck! EVERYTHING SUCKS! And you left your Pal ‘Percy’ behind for THAT! You left me behind…! I was so lonely..! So betrayed!”

Nick: “I tried to come back to this place for all the events you planned-!”

Pal: “BUT YOU DIDN’T SHOW! So many hours of planning and hoping only for you to NEVER show up! I was lucky that I got you to show- let alone stay for a week here so I could show you everything you left behind! And yet-! I STILL FAILED! Now you’re gonna run back to Heleena, Mountaina or whatever it’s called and leave me again! Abandoning everything here…!”

Nick: “…Percy-.”

Pal: “DON’T CALL ME PERCY! It’s PAL! It was never Percy! Now call an ambulance and get away from me!”

Nick: *Nick steps forward,* “Pal…”

Pal: “Shut up! You don’t know anything about the life I lived without you here! I only had the Tamas for comfort which trust me..I love them but they don’t talk! I had no one to talk to besides Viola and she distanced herself from me!”

Nick: “Pal.”

Pal: “I’m not listening!”

Nick: “PAL! You are insane! Did you even THINK of the consequences before you did all of this?! With all the destruction you caused, you’ll probably end up in prison!”

Pal: “…..” *Pal frowns*

Nick: “Ugh…first you go crazy and try to kill me with a suit and all these damn things and now you think I still want to be your friend?! No.” *Nick turns away before leaving.*

Pal: “Wh-! Where are you going?! Come back and help me! Don’t just leave me here! WE��RE BEST PAAALS!!” (Noncanon)

After everything is said and done, Pal makes, well, a Pal Percy to be a friend of his as the Tamas don’t talk and Nick is gone. It helps him cope pretty well. Pal also has some awful scars from the explosion, having lost a leg and pretty bad burn scars all over, he has a cut on his chin (in reference to the secret ending where his screen is partially cracked) and is now obsessive and clingy over friends. Also, like Pal does in the game Pal Percy can take over the animatronics that Pal made and usually does so when Pal forgets to tend to him. (Noncanon for the most part. Pal made Pal Percy but got rid of him before he reconstructed Percy)

Both Pal and Nick sometimes have awful nightmares. For Pal, dreams of being consumed by his creations and being trapped in them will be the end of him; when he has these nightmares, he distances himself from Pal Percy. For Nick, he sometimes has awful nightmares about what would’ve happened if he didn’t defeat Pal and if he succeeded. These dreams sees him in a playhouse with many of these animatronics haunting him along with Pal. (Canon)

On the topic of Pal’s nightmares, he sometimes hallucinates that he has a wire tail and the first time he experienced this, he isolated himself from his creations for 5 days until it went away. (Canon)

#playtime with percy pal percy #playtime with percy #playtime with percy au

15 notes · View notes

werdlewrites · 2 years ago

Text

Season of The Witch (Steve Harrington x OC)

Chapter Fifteen: Cookies N Cream

masterlist-about-patreon-ao3

UPDATED 7/21/24

Summar: “Was she always this quiet?” Steve seemed oblivious, having lived a full life listening to her laugh and grumble about people she didn’t have the nicest feelings for. “Oh,” he begins, the straw finally settling into the bottom of the glass as it melts into something softer. “She just needs time. She wanted nothing t’do with me when we first met,” Warnings: Flashbask, cute baby steve, mentions of illness and ptsd? Word count: 1,888 Revised 5/13/23 MAJOR CHANGE in how Steve and Autumn met.

If you had told Jim Hopper years ago that this would be his life, he would have laughed it off, believing the other person to be a fool. He had been knee-deep in cases so bone-chilling that it kept the man up at night, staring up to the ceiling or to his wife as he wondered what kind of life he would live without her support. Without her.

The universe is funny that way. Bringing you up to a high before releasing its hold to let you plummet back down to the earth with all of your demons that waited to swallow you whole. You were tested—your strength, values, and patience. Pushed to the limit until something caves. Surrendering that piece of happiness without hope of finding the next thing to bring a smile to your face. Bliss was far from your reach now as you climbed up from the pit. But despite that lack of brilliance, Hopper found himself...entertained by the two children sitting across from him. Wondering for the hundredth time since moving to this small town how the hell he wound up in a situation like this one.

It hadn’t taken much convincing to get the trio to move across the street from the cinema with the promise of a sweet treat from the relatively new police chief. “Stranger danger,” be damned as the children—or Steve, rather, put all of his trust into that shiny new badge and followed the man out to the diner. His slender fingers were forever laced together with his still-silent friend. She clung to him with both hands, fearful that she may suddenly be swept away in the crowd, and left to fend for herself as unspoken fears devoured her.

Now in their new comforts, they sit by large windows facing out to the street so the boy can watch for his mother's car, all the while enjoying milkshakes that were mostly intended as a means to encourage the girl to open up. To find some comfort in Hopper. But her face remains a statue, staring down at the vanilla shake with smashed cookie pieces. It’s something the waitress had recommended for the girl, as she wouldn’t agree to share her friend's chocolatey dessert. Autumn would twist the fragile base back and forth along the table, chewing at her lower lip. Steve was more blissful, basking in this unexpected twist of events, using all of his might to suck down the thick drink through the straw. He would easily become frustrated and instead use it as a makeshift spoon.

Hopper was, to say the least, amused. Lips curled into a small grin, holding onto unfinished thoughts of how to help this girl and how to get her to talk. “It’s Autumn, yeah?” Big eyes are cast his way for the second time that night, a nod following just after, and he marks that as a success in his book. The girl had hardly acknowledged him before, or anything for that matter. Simply wanting to vanish from curious eyes altogether. “How’d you meet this kid?” he questioned, eyes glancing towards her friend with chocolate staining the corner of his mouth. She pays his mess no mind as she looks to him for help, not yet ready to speak for herself.

“She was the new kid,” he says with a beaming grin, giving the girl a gentle nudge only to earn a glare back. It doesn’t seem to sway him—he was long immune to her attitude. “Showed up in class at the beginning of the year.” The man nods along to his words, lips pursed together in a thin line, wondering just how much it would take before she spoke a single word to him, if ever.

“Was she always this quiet?” Steve seemed oblivious, having lived a full life listening to her laugh and grumble about people she didn’t have the nicest feelings for.

“Oh,” he begins, the straw finally settling into the bottom of the glass as it melts into something softer. “She just needs time. She wanted nothing t’do with me when we first met,” he says with a toothy grin, biting at the red plastic, and his friend seems to mimic his expression, though shy as her head ducks low. Somehow, Hopper has no trouble believing the boy. He had already begun to picture a scenario where his mouth ran a mile a minute, not giving the girl a chance to escape his forced friendship until it became something real. Something genuine and pure.

“How’s your drink, kid?” the officer questions in a gentle tone, his warm smile still not earning anything more than a glance his way. Autumn hasn’t done more than twirl the tall glass across the table, watching as the water collects into patterns in hopes she could make out a picture.

She’s hesitant at first, leaning forward, then pausing to second-guess herself before finally taking a long sip, letting the sweet and bitter taste flood her senses. She’s wide-eyed with full cheeks, chewing on the softened cookies in delight. Steve finds himself laughing, hands abandoning his own milkshake to reach for hers. He was bold, to say the least, having enough comfort to assume they would share. “Let me try,” he says, only to be shot down instantaneously.

Her sweet gaze turns into a glare aimed his way. The frosty glass is pulled far from his reach, and the boy can’t help but gawk in surprise, though he is holding a familiar sparkle of amusement in his eye. His attention is easily lost as he looks to the window just next to Autumn, finding something familiar to strike his interest.

Soon, he’s shuffling across the squeaking seat with excitement. “That’s my mom!”

As he slips away, Autumn tries to follow, though his hands are held out to keep her seated, much to her evident despair. Lips parted and eyes wide in a look of sheer horror, she would be asked to sit behind with a total stranger. Trusted, yes. But a stranger nonetheless. “S’okay, Aut. Wait here; I’ll be right back.”

The worrisome look in her eyes doesn’t fade, silently pleading for Steve to drag her along, even though it was only just across the street. The boy lets out a small huff, smiling down at the girl with nothing but pure endearment as he reaches to push a strand of hair from her face, laying it just behind her ear.

“Five minutes, max.” Her face falls to something of somewhat disbelief, contorted and mocking his promise in silence, and he knows it, rolling his brown eyes. “Four minutes.” Autumn’s expression doesn’t change, and he seems to grow more desperate, his eyes glancing towards the cinema and then back to her. “Three minutes and forty seconds, final offer!”

But he doesn’t wait for her to counter, instead dashing off down the aisle and out into the night, leaving her with a body painfully twisted to watch him vanish just over the tall leather chair. She doesn’t settle back into the seat until the boy is safely across the street, his figure hidden by the many bodies now swarming the building to see a new thrill for the night.

Their eyes catch for a moment, and she feels small. That shimmer she had moments ago was now dim, and confidence was stomped out like a campfire. Jim wonders for a moment if he’s done something wrong—if he’s done anything right at all by her.

“She needs time,” the boy said. But what had brought her to this point of becoming so distrusting? So hesitant?

“You two seem really close,” Hopper says, guiding child-like eyes back in his direction. She’s too timid to hold his stare for long; her eyes quickly cast down to his folded hands as she drinks from the sweet treat. Letting her brain freeze up to divert from the discomfort of being questioned. “He said you get sick, yeah?” There’s a visible pause, the straw clearing as the shake falls back to the bottom of the glass.

The cookie pieces are slowly chewed on, a story flashing before vacant eyes with a mind left to ponder. Then, his second success; she nods in reply. The man couldn’t hide the sigh of relief. No longer trapped at a fork in the road, moving with ease down a path she sets out for him. “You see anyone? Doctor, or anything?”

The girl's lips are pursed, and her brows are knitted together before she gives a gentle nod of her head. She’s speaking to him in her own way, and the officer is running with it as far as he can go. For as long as she allows. “D’you see anything in the movie that made you feel ill? Or did someone speak t’you?”

The words fall heavy on fragile shoulders, causing them to slump and leaving the girl to look more defeated and deflated than she already had been. It’s almost disheartening. One step forward and two more back. Her drink no longer seems appealing, its base resting between her fingers as she slowly spins it back and forth. Hopper feels as though the building wall of trust has crumbled at his feet, no matter how small it may have been. He nearly collapses along with her, having given up and, in the late hour, too tired to continue. He falls back into the seat to dig for his wallet, flipping through bills in preparation to pay for the kids before the boy returns with his mother in tow.

“I don’t know.”

Her words are ghostly, whispered, dancing through the air. Fighting their way with grace through the busy, cluttered air of a dinner rush as the many guests around them talked boisterously. He glances her way, unsure if his ears have been playing tricks on him. But the small voice couldn’t have belonged to anyone else.

“Sometimes, s’like a flip switches in my brain. Then I’m here, and I don’t really remember anything.” The officer doesn’t move. A concerning gaze frozen on her with fingers locked in place around the money he intended to pull from his old, torn leather wallet. Mentally, he had been running a mile a minute, piecing together the few words she spared as his shock slowly faded into the background. Her broken silence suddenly created a huge hurdle that he had to scale with force in order to understand the girl like he had done with many cases in the past. A study of character, both victim and assailant.

Was it post-traumatic stress disorder? A sickness? Amnesia? Did she simply struggle with lapses of memory? The options were endless, and he was left without spare time as the boy began making his way across the street with his mother.

“D’you ever get that?” she questions. For a moment, she seems hopeful as she leans forward, seeking an answer she hasn’t yet heard to clear a heavy cloud looming overhead.

“Can’t say that I have, kid,” he mumbles, feeling a familiar ache in his chest the moment his words sink in. A hope crushed before his very eyes with sadness, eating her away bit by bit. She had been waiting to find someone just like her. To feel less alone despite the constant comfort around her.

“Steve doesn’t, either.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington angst #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper #hopper

15 notes · View notes

academy13 · 4 months ago

Text

The whole outage with Microsoft had my mom, who mostly knows computer stuff second had via my dad, like 'Why didn't they test this before releasing it?', because my dad literally worked on a computer system that dealt with BILLIONS of dollars of credit card transactions. We're talking something that if it goes down, its a whole hot mess of its own, and there were times he wound up working because one country went down and it was Not Great.

Like his entire job was keeping the system running and sorting out why a thing went down and to make sure if at all possible it didn't happen again (some things you can't control, like sunspots. Other things he could not convince people higher up than him to invest in... so the problem they could've fixed for cheaper when it first popped up gets kicked down the road to become a bigger more expensive problem when it actually does get fixed). My knowledge of this stuff is mostly second hand from stories he told, and him bitching about Keith (Keith is the Problematic White Man with Issues of my childhood. I've never met this man and he formed a part of my goddamn childhood with his stupid shit as my dad's boss. There's being annoyed with your boss, and then there's Keith, micromanaging the shit out of everything. The man wondered why he was married three times and even I could figure out why that had happened if his behavior at work was any indicator.), but I know enough to appreciate why Y2K wasn't a complete meltdown of infrastructure, which by the way some of what happened today was what was feared would happen if they didn't fix shit so computers knew that it was the year 2000. From my understanding, my dad told my mom that once Japan turned over (at least I think it was Japan, any case it was a country that is one of the first to celebrate the New Year. So in the case of Y2K, was one of the first countries to have computers turn to the year 2000), that was when they all breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't going to be a huge mess... there were some issues, but because of the planning and fixes and such that went into place well in advance (seriously once it was realized what could happen, work started to make sure it didn't go boom) it was overall, very calm.

So like this... this is kinda what had folks worried 25 years ago. The difference is, there's not nearly the kind of IT there was then and also, nobody saw this coming because... who the hell rolls out an update like that OVER THE DAMN WEEKEND.

0 notes

aaronafgash · 9 months ago

Text

10 NEW SONGS - 2/23/24

Pretty bad week again for the new tunes, but that’s why I’m here, trying to find the diamonds in the rough. And boy, was this rough. A dishonorable mention to the new corny-ass Justin Timberlake song. Where were you when he lost all rizz? Fascinating what happens when he isn't backed by Pharrell and Timbaland. Anyways, enjoy!

1. Test It - Erika de Casier

There’s something about Erika de Casier’s music that feels mysteriously nostalgic - familiar for reasons I can’t quite pinpoint. It’s almost like I’m discovering an artist from the ‘90s that went under the radar back in the day. That being said - this song rocks. Sultry and lowkey, Erika sings in an almost-whisper, discussing how she and a potential partner need to “test” things out before fully committing. Her album was hit or miss, but this song is a clear hit. (Sidenote - worth listening to "ice" if you want to hear an all-time Andre 3000 impersonation.)

2. I Don’t Love You - Charlotte Day Wilson

Charlotte Day Wilson - who I’ll be referring to as CDW for the remainder of this blurb to avoid writing her long-ass name out again - sings with her soul. “I Don’t Love You” is a classic breakup ballad, but there are some fascinating things happening texturally on the backing production, including synth pads and sped-up samples. “It's more peaceful being heartbroken” is a devastating (but effective) lyric in the first verse. Knowing that shit is going to hurt but accepting that it’s the right thing for yourself? Damn, CDW. Bars.

3. Illusions - Jalen Ngonda

Talk about an old soul. Jalen Ngonda burst onto the R&B scene last year with his debut album Come Around and Love Me, a warm, beautiful soul album that makes you want to dance in the kitchen with your partner. He keeps the vibe going here with “Illusions”, his first release since then. The production is perfect, channeling ‘60s Motown, but his voice is the reason you want to keep listening - this dude would have been a star in any era. Whereas artists like Bruno Mars pick a decade and base an entire album / era on that, what Jalen’s doing here feels much more authentic and grounded - more reminiscent of someone like Leon Bridges.

4. High Value (feat. Ty Dolla $ign) - RJMrLA

I know literally nothing about RJMrLA, but I cannot stress enough how nice it is to hear Ty Dolla $ign collaborate with someone who isn’t a Nazi. Good West-coast beat, solid verses, and a great hook. (We’re only on the fourth song and I’m already starting to struggle. Bear with me.)

5. Britpop - A. G. Cook

A.G. Cook has been one of Charli XCX’s main collaborators for a while now. I tend to have a harder time getting into his solo work, but this is catchy, and you can definitely hear Charli over this kind of beat. We love mindless electronic music!

((Update - after some light reading, I discovered that Charli's voice is the one we hear on this song. Sick!))

6. Karma (feat. Isaiah Rashad) - SiR

TDE-labelmates SiR and Isaiah Rashad link up here for a laid back track. SiR’s recent single “No Evil” hit much harder for me, but I’m not mad at this.

7. Flowers - Real Estate

Real Estate’s 2014 album Atlas is one of my favorite front to back records of all time, conjuring up nostalgic memories of the spring before graduating high school. Their new album, Daniel, does not live up to that billing! But “Flowers” specifically strikes me as a proper return to form for the indie rock mainstays - a breezy, chill track that just feels like summer.

8. Mine (feat. Shakka) - Ghetts

I mentioned Ghetts’ single with Sampha a few weeks ago - he dropped his full album, On Purpose, With Purpose, today, and this song was a standout. Over an uptempo, soul-sampled beat, Ghetts flows effortlessly while maintaining tactile precision with his words and cadence. Shakka provides a lovely little hook, and we even get a small backing choir supporting him.

9. NO SLACK (feat. Healy) - DLG.

Cool beat / production. Chill. I’m a Healy fan, so that’s why this popped up on my Spotify. I don’t know shit about DLG. so I have little to add here, but it’s worth a listen.

10. Fear - Logic

Cannot emphasize enough how little I want to be associated with Logic fandom, but damn, "Fear" is so good. Released a few weeks ago, I will fully admit that I slept on this. Over a funky guitar riff and a four-on-the-floor house beat, Logic sounds better than expected singing the simple “I can’t let you hold me back” hook. His nimble, brisk raps pair perfectly with the song. My only critique lies in the second half, where we get a full two minutes of a jazzy, slow motion, fully-sung outro. It’s cool! But I would have loved it if they treated it more like a brief interlude, instead of letting it consume what ends up being a majority of the track. Regardless, good job Logic!

#Spotify

1 note · View note

sejianismodding · 7 days ago

Text

💀 SFS IS GIVING ME UPLOAD ERRORS!

... and the internet still isn't restored.

Google Drive links are available in my MODDING ANNOUNCEMENTS POST on Patreon in the 🗺️ HELPS TO HAVE A MAP ☠️ TO THE BOOTY! section for the releases I can't get on SFS yet (specifically the three SGFX mods): https://www.patreon.com/posts/109291501

I will upload them to SFS when I'm able to. In the meantime, I'm removing the old versions.

The SGFX SFS folder is currently empty and you need to get these updates from my Google Drive links. I update these things with every official update because I do not trust outdated SGFX mods, and I've explained why in two of my 🧠 Rocket Science posts on Patreon.

☄️ Both SGFX (UI) mods are updated AGAIN!

... for compatibility with Update 10/31/2024.

🚀 I've also released a new SGFX (UI) mod!

... that removes the gold pulsing notification on the calendar and likely other buttons in that area of the UI.

This mod is not compatible with UI Cheats Extension! For UIC Compatibility I will need to notify weebesu (UI Cheats' creator) then extract, modify, and repackage the UI Cheats' SGFX file as a UIC patch. It ain't impossible.

My foray into SGFX modding was only partially about resurrecting the Dismiss function, I also mean to DESTROY ALL HU- uh... UI EFFECTS because EAxis is obsessed with swirling, glowing, pulsing, throbb- uh... IRRITATING AS FUCK UI EFFECTS! "For a company that panders so much, they really don't seem to give a !@#$ about the well-being of their neurodivergent customers." Have you noticed how many UI effects are on those top left "discovery/tutorial events" things? MULTIPLE UI EFFECTS, BRAH! WHAT THE !@#$?! ONE WASN'T ENOUGH?! I don't understand why I've never seen mods that do this before, nor do I understand why the big popular mods that I now find myself in conflict with don't already offer "Neurodiversity-Friendly" patches. This isn't rocket science.

🌠 AnimXGenWear updated for Update 10/31/2024!

... and it now includes a SWITCH TO [X] CLOTHING PREFERENCE custom interaction under the ACTIONS Pie Menu. This custom interaction requires XML Injector to work and is similar to the identically named custom interaction included in my ongoing BUGFIX for Lovestruck's Costume Box.

The difference is that AXGW's interaction works for both Active/PC sims AND Target/NPC sims independently whereas the Costume Box interaction only works for the Active/PC sim!

This custom interaction might be temporary as I'm working on a full Gender Options Pie Menu that functions similarly for Active/PC and Target/NPC sims. Actually, I'm working on a lot of Pie Menus now that I can Pie Menu! Pie Menus are awesome when they're not half-arsed, broken, and a complete disorganized mess!

🚀 A bunch of Drama Node Overrides released!

... targeting irritating NPC calls and texts and requests, like the "I heard you became friends with some baddie that I used to know!" incessant texting! They're individual override packages contained in multiple archives so you can pick and choose what you want to install. I've also included overrides for all of the Stayover requests while I work on fixing NPC Stayover Guests.

🚀 My Little Walkstyle Behavior Override: Part 1 released!

"Part 1" is a small modification to our CAS walkstyles that changes the "short_walk" to match the "walkstyle". No longer will your anything other than Default Walkstyle sims switch to Default when walking short distances!

🚀 New BUGFIXES released!

Including a BUGFIX for the Welcome Wagon that changes the Wagon from "is_neighbor" to sims who live IN HOUSES in your world. I did this because I live in - damn the names of these worlds - Sneaky Dinosaur, and "is_neighbor" don't work right because I have just ONE neighbor.

I've also made what might be a BUGFIX for visiting sims jogging but more testing is required!

🚧 IT HELPS TO HAVE A M.A.P!

A new mod is on the horizon, built using what I've learned from my ongoing BUGFIX for the Lovestruck Costume Box and building my WiP Boutique. It's called the Mobility Assistance Platform and uses EP08 resources to do a thing.

"I can't give you fully functional wheelchairs yet, but I can do this."

💀 I CURRENTLY HAVE NO INTERNET!

I'm on a very limited cellular data plan for a few days and trying to update my mods. I can't post update notifications everywhere, so please keep an eye on my MODDING ANNOUNCEMENTS POST on Patreon for news: https://www.patreon.com/posts/109291501

If you've got one of my SGFX (UI) mods, I've updated both!

Kthnxbai!

4 notes · View notes

toorusluvr · 2 years ago

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 swimming pools - iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

note from nis: it’s almost been a month since the last update omg i’ve been so busy with my internship ugh it’s so hard but here’s a quick drabble with fratboy iwa lol he’s so hot i want to marry him so bad pls

cw: semi-public + unprotected + slight breeding kink + doggy

thinking about fratboy!iwa who found his cock buried deep inside your tight cunt that was waiting to be fucked by him only after the guests had left the party. the time he thought of himself not giving a fuck of what other people might think of him or once they see him fucking you so hard at the pool ladder.

he couldn’t think of any better scenario than this moment, where he got you wrapped around his fingers. the way your fists were clenching around the handles of the pool ladder while he was hitting it from behind.

you were moaning involuntarily, your walls clenching hard around his cock as if you’d never want his cock to leave you. the grip on the handles was getting slippery but iwaizumi’s got an ironclad hold on your waist, almost bruising your skin. the warm feels of your pussy hugging his cock so tightly that made him lose his breath.

iwaizumi couldn’t be patient. yes, he is a patient man but the way your bikini looked on you tonight definitely tested his sanity. he couldn’t keep his hands off of you and he wanted to see that bikini off of you but also in crisis of fucking you with the bikini on. he was weaker than he usually is. that damned skimpy bathing suit.

his pace didn’t give you any time to catch a break or even took a moment to breathe properly. you’ve been moaning like crazy, nothing other than his name and occasional sensational moans escaped your lips. a bunch of oh fuck’s, harder — oh god, faster, please were your prayers for the night.

iwaizumi’s massive hand groped on your breasts. the bikini didn’t really do a great job at hiding your pretty tits. he moved the bikini top aside, thumb pinching on your pebbled and sensitive nipple from the exposed cold air. your body grew warmer, feeling the sense of climax approaching closer.

“fuck, i love your tits, baby,” iwaizumu bit onto the skin of your shoulders. his cock still ruthlessly drilled into you without stopping not even a beat.

you nodded desperately, knowing too well he couldn’t leave your tits alone since the day he saw them. “make me come, please, hajime,” you begged pitifully. the urges to come so hard around his cock was undeniably difficult to resist. you wanted him to come in you that it trickled down your thighs.

iwaizumi threw his head back, groaning louder as his cock twitched. “where do you want me, baby?” he panted.

“inside me, please,” your voice came out as a whimper. the muscles around your stomach flexed before releasing your high.

“the things that you did to me. oh- fuck,” his hips stuttered and he gave you one last harsh thrust, burying his seed deep inside your cunt that’s greedy to be painted white with his thick cum.

the night that iwaizumi could never forget because fucking you on the pool ladder was the best damn thing that has happened in his life.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #hq smut #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut

2K notes · View notes

djarinsbeskar · 3 years ago

Text

PAMARTHE ARC 2.2: HOMECOMING (CHAKAVAL)

A/N: Better late than never! I feel I kinda rushed this part but it's been weighing on me so I want to just release it into the wild and hope for the best! Updates will probably be a little far between for the forseeable as I have to divide my time between Stitches and A Sensual Summoning. It is only temporary, but just a heads up!

Note: given the number of anons I have received and not posted recently about a) their dislike of Stitches, b) their dislike of medic as a reader insert, or c) general nastiness, I'll be taking a military approach to this. The sins of one result in the punishment of all. If you don't like Stitches, read something else.

Word Count: 10.5k

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warings: SMUT! (unprotected sex, anal play, anal sex, anal virgin, overstimulation, semi-public sex) language, angst (incl. mentions of death and grief).

Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Companion Guides

“Kyr will be back the day after tomorrow.”

Kai explained as you all made your way out of the Tipsy Hart, the child tucked into his arm from where he had settled earlier in the evening.

“Why do you guys…rest for a few days, and meet us at the Seat once he’s back.”

This was the part you had been dreading.

The…living part.

The lull in the action and abatement of distraction. When you would be forced to exist within an environment where every turn reminded you of something else you had been trying to forget for the last six years.

The losses, the suffering.

The emptiness.

Your life had been split so drastically between your pre- and post-Rebellion selves. Before, life had been full of people and everything that came with them. People and their voices and footsteps. With their laughter and tears and arguments and memories.

After the Rebellion…you were a voyeur. An outside observer to the lives of those who came through your clinics. Never a participant. Never submersed in the messiness and candid fullness of a life spent with others.

In the last year though, you had begun to regain some of that. With Din and his ad’ika. Complete with new sounds and memories, but there was always a part of you that feared the collision of both worlds. The tectonic shift of before and after…and the fallout you would have to deal with in its aftermath.

Bantha balls.

You hoped Kai hadn’t noticed the way you stalled, coming to a stop by your hired speeders.

He did, if the pinch between his brows was anything to go by.

Din – naturally – was no help. Silence was the Mandalorian’s preferred language, and he never felt the need to fill it with useless fodder. It was a trait you had learned to find extremely attractive once you figured out how to interpret it.

But at this moment, it was deeply frustrating. Especially when it left you on the front lines of communication with a mind beset by simmering anxiety.

“We—Kyr packed up the house after…you know.” Kai tested warily, rubbing the back of his neck to expel some of the nervousness tensing his muscles.

The bombardment. That was what he meant. The attack that had killed your mother and finally emptied your family home of its last occupant.

“He didn’t toss anything, always said you’d come home eventually but eh—yeah, it’s all there, yours now.”

He was overly garrulous. Nervous chatter belying his uncertainty in how to broach the sore subject of death and grief. He was a damned commander of the New Republic Defense Fleet. You would think he was good at this sort of thing.

Your stomach sank, taking in his fractured words.

The house.

Your family’s house.

Your house?

Most people would be thrilled to own a home point blank, let alone a home that sat overlooking the north sea and surrounded by pockets of forest and rolling hills where pylbucks and nerfs grazed freely.

In your peripheral, you noticed Din move minutely. A shift of his weight. Natural – it always looked natural – but deliberate. It was a question in the drop of his hand to his belt, the roll of his shoulder back. A query that his eyes branded on your skin from where he stood.

What house?

You had – perhaps foolishly – believed you might get away with not having this conversation. That you could flee to the safety of the Razor Crest in order to avoid and confusion over why – now that you were on Pamarthe – that you wouldn’t choose to stay in your childhood home.

Was it any wonder that a bounty hunter of his caliber picked up on that discrepancy with a single shift in movement? You knew better than that.

Dammit.

You didn’t want to talk about this. At all. There was a constantly looming fear in not knowing where to begin. That the problem would continue to expand indefinitely like the universe you were all suspended in. A speck would turn into a rock, would turn into a planet, would turn into a star, would turn into a damn blackhole sucking every part of you into it, and crushing you under the weight of your own grief and trauma.

You just…wanted it all to go away.

“Maybe…maybe the Crest would be better—” you heard yourself try weakly, a useless argument.

“The harbor is hours away, little fawn—” Kai refute easily, rocking the child who was dozing like a natural, “Buck’s Cove might be a bit of a trek, but it’s still closer.”

Fucking Kai.

“It is late—maybe Nana has a room free—” you tried, valiant and desperate while still trying to monitor your tone lest it reveal the stress guiding those words.

Noticing Kai’s immediate confusion though, alarm bells blared in your head – too close – and you were forced to backtrack. It was easier to deceive by agreeing.

“No, no you’re right,” you chuckled, the sound thready, “no point in paying for a room we could get for free.”

There.

That should get him off your back. Only now, you would be forced to face the very foe you had been trying to avoid. Your gaze remained steady on your friends golden eyes as suspicion turned to concern in a fraction of a second.

The warmth of his hand bled into your skin when he cupped the back of your neck in comfort.

“Welcome home, little fawn,” he rumbled quietly instead of addressing your previous conversation, “and you are home.”

Fear creeping up your throat, you tried to suppress it by pretending that it didn’t exist.

Right about now…Rhydian would be calling to say stay put—that he was on his way to pick you up.

But the holotransmitter was silent. The dead couldn’t speak. That fucking silence. How different it was to the comfortable, effervescent silence you shared with Din.

This silence was the stalking quiet of a well-placed paw, expertly avoiding twigs and crunchy leaves. The silence that had a lone doe lifting her head from grazing because something just wasn’t right. The silence that preceded the devastating blow of an attack of fangs and claws.

You were being hunted in your own mind by fond memories that turned thorny with loss.

You nodded, Kai’s fingers squeezing lightly into your skin when you flashed him what you hoped was a convincing smile.

The younger Carria brother looked like he might say something else, but a fussy squawk from the child had him turning to Din instead so he could return him to his buir’s hold.

Something incomprehensible passed between the two men during the exchange. You couldn’t tell given that Kai had his back to you—but whatever decision the stag had made in that moment as the child settled comfortably in Din’s arm, was immediate.

“Look after our fawn?” he asked and your heart leapt.

Our fawn.

It was an innocuous word to focus on.

Did he mean ‘our’ as in Clan Carria as a whole? Pamarthe? ‘Our’ as in Kai and Kyr with whom you had a long and close history with?

Or…did ‘our’ mean all of the above? With Din and the child included.

Your brain grabbed onto the word greedily, ignoring everything else and focusing on it with the magnifying glass of hyper-fixation. In some shadowed place in your mind, you knew it was just a cover; the many definitions of ‘our’ meant nothing really. It was merely something to think about that wasn’t your house and the ghosts that walked its’ empty halls.

You glanced up in time to see the tail end of Din’s subtle nod.

His silence was so much more…soothing.

It was all Kai needed too, and when he nodded back with a quick clasp to the Mandalorian’s shoulder, Din didn’t recoil or – thankfully – sever the commanders arm. You never would fully understand the intricacies of ‘man speak’.

Kai gave the warriors pauldron a brotherly smack and – that settled – turned off towards the steep, winding pathway that led to the Seat of the Stag, throwing a three fingered salute over his head as he did so.

“See you in two days, lovebirds!”

Something was off about you.

Din’s suspicions had risen the moment the commander mentioned your home. A surprise, really. He never knew you owned a house.

It was very…domestic.

He wasn’t quite sure whether that association made him uncomfortable, or if his discomfort came from the fact that he didn’t mind equating you to domesticity one bit.

You played a good game, as though nothing was really wrong.

But the Mandalorian had learned your body better than his own. Even in the growing darkness of twilight, he saw how your gaze became distant—clouded by an unconscious fog. The strain at the corners of your eyes and the pinch at your lips he had mapped so often with his own.

Something was bothering you.

Something Din suddenly felt he should know.

What an odd sensation.

Neither of you had ever gotten this close to either of your pasts before. You had never been on Aq Vetina – Maker knew that would be weird – and the covert he was part of had already been scattered by the time you came to be travelling with him and the kid. You hadn’t even seen his face.

If he felt disconcerted by the idea of you encountering his past, he could only imagine what it was like for you right now.

You had…nothing.

Nothing to hide behind. No beskar shield to ensure the appearance of impassive strength. No impenetrable armor to protect the rawest wounds.

You had…

Him.

He was donned in beskar, armored by the strongest steel.

He could protect those raw wounds and tear-stained cheeks. More than that—Din wanted to.

But…he didn’t know how. What steps to take or words to say. He had no plan, and going in blind was foolhardy at best, damaging at worst.

He followed your speeder now – unusual things – at a pace far slower than you had travelled to the cantina with. The whip of your sort, cowl cape in the wind belied your speed. Sometimes, it seemed as though you weren’t even aware of it—a jump of acceleration when you caught yourself going no faster than an Alderaan beach snail.

Over ridges and through narrow glens, the uneven landscape would disorient anyone who didn’t know where they were once more discernible landmarks disappeared behind them. He didn’t know this land. He couldn’t take the lead, as much as his instincts might tell him to.

This was your planet. You had grown up here.

The intrusive image of a small girl – the child you had been – sprang to mind against the backdrop of your past. Grassy plains and windswept hair tangled with the leaves and twigs of your adventures. Small copses of trees that seemed so ordinary looked so differently when he placed you among them. Using the wide trunks during hide-and-seek or taking advantage of the high limbs to read in peace.

Then the image shifted…to that same little girl with hints of him in her.

His throat went dry and he shook the thought from his head viscerally, veering off course momentarily.

Fucking hell.

He was not thinking about his child. Your child. That was a damn treacherous road he feared he might not be able to return from once taken.

He resolutely trained his gaze on your back and away from the vision of a little girl with her moths eyes and fathers hair. Even distracted, you guided the speeder effortlessly down pathways and shortcuts across the hills on your way to a saddle pass between two long ridges of stout mountains.

It looked as though the waves themselves had ruptured up against the coastline—freezing in rock on either side of the pass in a daunting eclipse of unscalable stone. Pockets of woodland and smatterings of settlements blinked past you both, thinning out the closer you got to the pass until you entered it and a wide, grassy glen greeted them.

The farther in you led him, the more wildlife appeared.

When Din said the mountain ridges were unscalable, he didn’t take into account the gravity defying creatures that hopped along the vertical rock. Hooved and horned, the Mandalorian was only able to detect one such beast before it skirted back up the mountain, leaving a trail of scree in its wake.

Then, there were the most bizarre birds.

He only noticed them when the kid cooed at the rustling grass either side of their speeder. His thermal vision picked up the small, long-legged fowl – flightless, apparently – with a long beak that pinched the nesting material of other animals before fleeing off back to its’ own nest.

Thieving little bastards.

So engrossed as he was in the activity that nightfall brought, he didn’t notice how quickly they were approaching the exit of the pass.

Beyond, wide open space greeted him in a panoramic whoosh—stretching farther than his vision would allow.

How fucking big was his island?

He underestimated the size of the scope of territory your alor had.

Sea and sky alike clashed against the horizon, and it was that exact horizon you seemed to be leading him towards. There were very few settlements this side of the pass, none that Din could see as he scanned the area for threat anyway. Waves crashing in the distance grew in volume, a resonance of some great breast roaring.

Perhaps, a mythosaur once sounded like this. Like the waves of a Pamarthen ocean.

On and on you led him and his mind meandered back to the fact that you were leading him to your house. Maybe it was the realization that you had roots somewhere that wasn’t with him and the child that he couldn’t seem to shake.

Real, tangible roots.

Not an old gunship and a thin sleep mat.

You never mentioned it. But then—you hardly ever said anything about Pamarthe unless it arose out of necessity and even then, it was sparce.

Could he really blame you though?

Tragedy changed people. Like metal that was time and again re-melted, re-cast, re-forged. A violent process necessary for the person you grew to be. He wasn’t the same child taken in as a foundling by the Mandalorians, and you weren’t the starry eyed rebel you were when you left your home to join a war.

Coming to ride along the coast once more, he spotted your destination sitting pretty against the backdrop of that roaring ocean and stormy skies.

A house.

Why was he expecting something else?

It was…just a house.

Perhaps it was because he always associated you with clinics or the Razor Crest that he expected something else. But just a house, though?

Din wasn’t sure he knew anyone who owned a house. The people on Sorgan owned houses, he recalled—but your home looked nothing like the reedy dwellings made for such a humid climate.

Incompatible with the Pamarthen islands, the wind alone would have probably destroyed Sorgan houses in no time.

No, yours sat strong. A white, stone structure with small durasteel shuttered windows overlooking a dirt pathway that led to the edge of the cliffs it stood a distance from. It was big, and a sadness loomed over it that he couldn’t quite place.

A house that shouldn’t sit empty, but did.

You had slowed down considerably, hit with the same image as he had been. Crawling to a stop—the Mandalorian came to hover beside you, his eyes scanning your profile. He saw you swallow, eyes glued to the house.

“Kitten?”

You didn’t respond. Your chest lifted beneath the half-cut drape of the front of your cape with a deep inhale. The sea air was good, so he heard. Wait—you were the one who told him that. Must be some truth in it then.

He was still watching you when those pretty eyes flickered to his through the visor.

“Sorry, needed to catch my breath.”

Liar.

He nodded instead.

Choose your battles, idiot.

Whatever else he might have said was lost in the dust as you took off again, and he was forced to scramble to catch up—still getting used to these damn speeders that started up on a jump of speed.

He couldn’t shake the feeling though, that he was chasing you towards the very thing you had been running from all these years.

It was just a house.

You had been chanting the same thing since it came into view. As it came closer until you stood in its shadow, dismounting the speeder you had unconsciously parked near the empty landing space that was never usually absent of a ship.

At least there would be space for Din to land the Razor Crest tomorrow.

You walked up the overgrown path that was once worn down from foot traffic—but now hardly visible under the grass and weeds now covering it. Mired down by the thought of overgrown shrubbery, you didn’t notice the durasteel front door getting closer until you were standing right in front of it, the window shutters dark and lifeless.

You couldn’t put this off.

The door slid open with a slight buffer, stiff from lack of use.

It had been over six years since anyone used it regularly, you supposed.

Must and a faint smell of mildew defined the sentimental aroma of home. That scent you could never quite pick up anywhere else; the nostalgia and memory attached to it too ingrained in brick and mortar to travel with you off-world.

But like the pathway hidden by overgrown weeds, it was still there. The faintness of perfume after hours of wear, picked up for a split second before it disappeared again. It was still there though, and that was all that mattered.

One nightmare had been confronted and bested, at least.

The front door opened into the main living area where most of your family’s activity took place. A wide space for a kitchen, seating area and even a separate table for formal mealtimes that was hardly ever used for anything but homework. Later, it was the constant home of gloves, jackets and helmets your brother never failed to throw onto when they got home that drove your mother stir crazy.

Had…had it always been this big?

Your eyes drank in what the shadows and doorway of moonlight allowed. Generator was probably shot again. Sheets of preservative shields covered all the furniture but, at a glance, it appeared that everything was in its’ place as it had been the last time you were here.

Except its’ occupants.

The last surviving one was currently standing covertly outside the door, like a robber—contemplating entry and considering fleeing. Searching for anything of value that might be worth taking a step inside. Anything…or anyone.

Had it always been this quiet so far north of the Seat?

You never noticed it before.

Maker, usually this house was a clamor of noise. Half the time it was you yelling down the stairs for Rhyd and Rhain to shut up when you were trying to study for an upcoming exam and that command going unacknowledged as they rough-housed and used their outdoor voices inside.

Only when your mother threatened them with her ancient, wooden ladle did they finally cop on and listen.

They wouldn’t dare make a peep after that final warning. Or, they took whatever horseplay they were up to outside.

Why did you always tell them to be quiet?

A sting of tears burned the backs of your eyes, the ghost of your little brother racing through the room with yells that he completed the Hurdles and was now a real pilot. Your mothers shriek at his success as her ghost came out of the kitchen to wrap her youngest child in her arms—who, despite his claims of being too old for hugs, snuggled close.

Why?

When you hated this silence so much.

You yearned for the chaos of your brothers and the singing of your mother, while also craving the silence of the Razor Crest and the intimate pants of Din’s moans in your ear.

You just…wanted it all.

How greedy you were.

How naïve to think that was possible.

You still hadn’t walked inside.

How long had it been now?

Din was probably noticing your weird behavior if he hadn’t already. Which he probably did hours ago. You really needed to give the man more credit when it came to reading people.

What kind of excuse could you offer him though?

Sorry, I’m just having an existential crisis over the death of my entire family that I never told you about because we’re only fuck buddies but I’m actually in love with you so really, I want to tell you these things but I don’t want to terrify you emotionally in case you take to the hills and leave me in this silent house that’s the reason for you leaving in the first place because you asked me why I haven’t walked inside yet.

Wow.

That was a mouthful even in your mind.

And you still hadn’t taken a single damned step through the door.

What if your footsteps echoed? You hadn’t thought about that before. What if the house spoke back to you and reaffirmed that no, they didn’t just forget to take their shoes off when they came home and were somewhere else in the house out of sight.

What if the house echoed and confirmed that it was empty and had been empty for years?

What if it echoed…and you were forced to accept that they were all gone?

You couldn’t do this.

The only step you took was one backwards without realizing. The Razor Crest was fine, you had spent a whole year on that ship quite comfortably. Why bother changing things now? The Razor Crest was where silence was welcome. In this house—it was perverse.

“Don’t—” you heard Din begin.

You were dragged back to the present by a little green alien.

Wadding nonplussed through the small gap you had created by stepping back and into the home you grew up in. His little feet were too small to cause much noise, let alone an echo. He entered where you could not with ease, heading looking left and right at everything he could; exploring.

Din had obviously put the child down and was now cursing under his breath as he reached down to grab the little menace, inadvertently stepping over the threshold too.

And just like that…air filled your lungs and life re-entered your silent home.

“Dammit, kid—where are your manners?” the warrior sighed defeatedly as he scooped up the child who made it quite clear that no, he did not want to be in his buir’s arms. He wanted to explore every inch of the place, and had nearly made it under the first of many preservation shields before Din intercepted.

It all happened in a few seconds, but in that time the impossible became achievable, and you stepped into your old home that was once again filled with noise.

You exhaled, the tole of this battle exiting your body at the victory, leaving you exhausted.

“Let him explore,” you heard yourself saying, taking another step and another, until you were able to pick the wriggling alien from the Mandalorian’s arms and place him back on the floor once more, “it’s been too long since there’s been a child in this house.”

Shadows covered most of his helmet, the glint of moonlight along the curve from the open door shifting to the side to watch you. Then, a warm, strong hand wound down intimately over your lower back, bringing the warrior closer to you.

“You okay?”

Your heart fluttered. He had been checking on you ever since you came out of hyperspace earlier today. Usually, you would find it annoying, but this was his way of vocalizing his…understanding that this was fucking difficult, and touching base with you.

You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck loosely to pull his forehead down to yours, tempted by the heat, “I am now…”

You could hear him inhale sharply, his free hand cupping under your jaw to keep your eyes on his visor. Thumb rubbing beneath your bottom lip, you caught the pillowy cushion of flesh between your teeth at the affection. The intimacy. The fact that you still hadn’t forgotten the way he stopped a handsy drunk from touching you and how your mother would probably have loved the stoic warrior and his son.

Your hands skirted up under the back of his helmet, wisps of wavy hair curling around your fingers and the flush heat of his skin under your hands making you shiver with the contrast from the chill of the house. It hadn’t been heated in years. While sitting on a northern coast, what else were you expecting?

“I have a job for you,” you smiled at his grunt of awareness, his eyes evidently more happily distracted by your body as his hand dropped beneath the end of your short cape to the swell of your ass, “since I’m shit at engineering, I need—”

“Wait,” he rasped, lifting his head from yours.

You blinked – blindsided – and held your tongue. He pushed his gloved hand into the back pocket of your tight pants casually, while his other hand adjusted something at the side of his helmet.

“Say that again.”

Now you were just confused.

“What?”

“Say. That. Again—” he repeated, slowly.

“I’m shit at engineering?” you questioned, the words drawn out from your lack of understanding and having no facial expressions to read if you were saying the right thing.

Din chuckled quietly, a husky noise that went straight to your cunt as the deep timbre embraced you with warmth. Well, guess you didn’t need the heating after all.

“Just needed to record that so I have proof that you aren’t in fact all knowing,” he admitted, victory lifting his tone. Somewhere behind you both, something clattered – sounded like crockery – from the kid’s unsupervised nosing.

You didn’t even spare a glance at the mess, your cheeks heating. This infuriating man, you—

His laughter cut your offense in half, paper thin and you couldn’t even remember why you had been so affronted in the first place, when he was filling a place you had feared entering with one of your favorite sounds.

When he was quite done, his low chuckles petering off into rumbling affection when he dropped his other hand to fill it with your ass too. He kneaded them casually and with such easy arrogance that it was difficult not to flush further and push back into his hands.

“You’re shit at engineering, go on,” he teased.

“Fuck off,” you snorted, leaning back with a chuckle of your own, “go see if the generator is working and if not, fix it.”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” he growled, heating your blood as the sound travelled through your veins to inject your heart with the erratic thump of an atrial fibrillation you should be trying to calm but found yourself smirking instead, playing along.

“You should know that already,” you purred, “keep up, sunshine.”

“Keep an eye on the kid while I do?” he rumbled after a beat, his wandering hands indulging.

“Don’t I always?” you retorted.

“Mm…good girl.”

You really did flush as dark as you possibly could at that. The man was just not playing fair at all today.

You wondered briefly as he released you to brush past you to go outside, what had brought on such a touchy, public display of affection. For months it had be relegated to the darkness of hyperspace and you weren’t quite sure when it changed.

If you were to be logical, objective—and look at the situation as if it were happening to other people, your first instinct would be to say it was do to the familiarity she – not you, someone else – was experiencing on her home planet. And he – not Din, some other masked warrior – was feeling territorial.

Hm.

That made sense.

These people weren’t strangers to you; they greeted you through touch and in a language Din didn’t know. Beyond that, they didn’t know how to read Din the way you did. They couldn’t see his face or observe his dissatisfaction. Apart from fucking you right there in front of them, his hands-on affection was the only way to lay claim and, in a way, show how unavailable you actually were.

Ten years ago, if someone told you a man was doing that to you—you would have huffed and puffed and raved on about your burning independence and how dare anyone think they could contain that blaze by trying to possess you.

Din wasn’t trying to own you though.

Nothing Din did was ever indicative of objectifying anything, to be honest. His ship was his home, his weapons and armor were his religion, his ad’ika was his family and you—were his equal.

Equally desired as respected.

Such a curious sensation. Enjoying when a man became territorial over you. Enjoying it because, well—you did it right back to him. Like hell you would let any of these other does near him.

The flare of jealousy that thought inspired surprised you.

The shuffling patter of little feet from the kitchen to somewhere in the living room had you chuckling. Disarming the first shield of what you correctly assumed to be the dining table filled you with a melancholic happiness at seeing the familiar, carved durasteel.

A dull almond color, it was framed with steel carvings your father had painstakingly completed to personalize the piece that would decorate the home he made with your mother. Leaping stags and graceful does were paired with the feline beauty of the lions from your mothers clan. The table was an extension of the embroidered cloak he gifted her when they were first engaged.

The kid was currently mesmerized by the mighty antlers of the stag that was carved in such a way that it appeared to be supporting the entire table form where it stood at the base.

You smiled, sitting down cross-legged on the floor with him.

“This was always my favorite too.”

His ears twitched as he looked at you with large, starry eyes. A nudge of instinct in your mind told you to continue, your fingers following his little claws along the antlers.

“You see how many points his antlers have? He’s a monarch stag because he has so many,” you explained, the sheer size of the Pamarthen stags famous across the galaxy, “more than sixteen! Maybe we’ll get to see one while we’re here.”

He chirped, his hand wrapping around your thumb that was stroking over the stags wide snout. You couldn’t be sure if the little bogwing even knew what numbers were, let alone how to count. Going by the amount of food he could consume, you doubted he knew the meaning of too much that was for sure.

As if you could blame him. If you could eat whatever you wanted and not put on an ounce of weight—you would be a food monster too. You got to your feet, leaving the child to explore some more while you made your way to the mess of crockery he left on the kitchen floor.

Speaking of, you hoped Din brought some rations with him. There wasn’t anything in any of the—

Food greeted your gaze when you pulled open the first cupboard. Not much; bread, nerfmilk, cheese, some salted meats and—Maker you hadn’t had one of these in ages! The tell-tale bright yellow box containing twelve perfectly baked, berry stuffed buns.

Not just any berries either. Fiore berries. The bright blue fruits named after the wildflower that grew in abundance over the islands were some of the sweetest, most velvety rich deliciousness you had ever tasted. You were addicted to this flavor; in jams, candy, and most especially—these pastries.

Your smile softened at their presence.

Kyr.

You might have said Kai, but over the years of your friendship and the slightest period of ‘more-than-friends’, Kyr never failed to encourage your appetite for fiore berries and gifted you with them whenever you wanted them.

How did the rhaer have time to leave your groceries?

You chuckled, shaking your head at his likely excuse; not wanting to deal with politics and escape the Seat for a few hours.

At least you would have something to feed the little menace with tonight. Him and his father.

Just as you were thinking it, the power came on with a groaning flicker of lights and hum of the sub-generators around the house.

Huh. That was quick.

Light brought with it greater clarity. Filling the space with a warmth that had been missing in the darkness. Your eyes drank in everything, all those pieces of furniture still covered and the daunting stairway up into further darkness that awaited you later.

“Wasn’t in bad shape,” Din mentioned, wiping his hands clean as he walked back through the front door, closing it finally, “needs a new intercooler for the engine, though.”

It’s needed a new cooling system for years.

“I’ll replace it for you.”

Your eyes flickered up to his visor, when he came to stand on the other side of the counter you had wiped down in order to slice some of the bread. He waved your thanks away with a grunt and turned to watch the kid re-emerge from behind one of the furniture shields once he heard the rustle of food being prepared.

He waddled as fast as short legs could carry him and all but boosted himself onto the counter with…

Your eyes flickered up to Din’s, surprised.

Magic?

“Hey—kid,” Din crossed his arms when the child reached out a greedy little hand for the piece you had just sliced, “is this how you’ve been getting into places you’re not supposed to be in?”

“Looks like it’s not only mudhorns and Trandoshans that he can move.”

Din snorted, looking sideways towards the stairs. You saw the cogs working loudly in his head.

“Go check, you don ‘t need my permission,” you turned your attention back to the bread, setting it aside so you could slice the block of cheese too.

Din wanted to make sure the house was safe, but didn’t want to intrude. It was sweet—but there was a selfish part of you that wanted someone other than you to go upstairs for the first time. If Din was offering to be your scapegoat in that then—you weren’t above taking advantage.

“Take him with you—let him pick a room,” you tagged to the end, figuring that if the kid chose then you wouldn’t have to.

You were rather tired of making decisions today. You just wanted someone else to do it.

Din didn’t question it, scooping the little bogwing up along with a slice of bread for him to nibble on so he wouldn’t be fussy.

It left you alone; an eventuality you hadn’t factored in when you sent the two of them on their inspection. Popping a shard of cheese into your mouth, you focused on the heavy sound of Din’s footsteps above you instead of the dark corners of the house and thanking every single deity you knew of, that you hadn’t had to come here alone.

It was a nice place you had.

Din thought as much as he ventured through the upper hallway, checking there were no threats squatting somewhere they didn’t belong. Every room was different, but contained the same preservation shields that made them all look similar. Except for two.

One had the shields down. Pilot helmets of various eras lined one wall and the bed was turned down with military neatness. The kid liked it. Din had given up trying to make sense of the intuitive fondness his ad’ika had for the most random places and people, but when he struggled out of his hold once more to wander around the bedroom, Din knew this was once such place.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and watching the kid explore.

He deserved something like this. A bedroom, a space of his own where he could play and just be a child.

Finding the bedroom to be safe, he left the child to explore his new found favorite room so that he could check the rest of the rooms.

The other room that was different, was the one that was significantly larger than the others. It faced the ocean—large windows with their shutters down blocked what must have been a breath-taking view to wake up to each morning.

He disarmed the shield covering the large bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Maker, it was soft. Very soft. Too soft? Possibly.

The shutters made the room pitch black, and while he could appreciate the view would be nice—he was more relieved that there was the possibility of removing his helmet even briefly. Though, he was still a little unsure of that—it went against every instinct to take it off when on-world, especially a populated one.

Was this your parents room?

Maker’s Helmet, they wouldn’t be happy knowing the man who fucked their daughter every night was sitting on their bed.

The frame creaked under his weight as he pushed himself back to his feet quickly with a mental apology for the disrespect.

The floor was easier to deal with.

Bucks Cove was a secret gem of Clan Carria.

Small, intimate—it stretched in a crescent of sand and rock beneath the hidden staircase overgrown with brush and brambles that led to your family home. The cove overlooked the wide, uninterrupted expanse of ocean stretching outward to infinity and itt was so easy to become lost in the idea of being the only person on the planet.

Towering cliffsides framed it with the emblematic white rock face that met with greenery at its edges. Smatterings of boulders – marbles thrown by giants – jutted up from beneath the shallow waters in varying states of erosion. They interrupted the waves as they broke against them, providing cover, shade and texture to the otherwise flat cove.

Sprawling several dozen meters from the base of the cliffs to the ocean at its’ thickest point—the cove could appear invisible as the high, dangerous cliffs framing it dissuaded most from getting close to the edge they would need to approach in order to spot it.

Only if you knew what you were looking for, or knew where those stairs were—would you know that Bucks Cove existed.

That was where you sat hours after you arrived at your house, arms around your knees and bare feet buried beneath the cool, grainy sand after realizing you had no appetite.

The little bogwing had taken a liking to Rhydian’s old room, spending his time exploring the surfaces and under the bed before the softness of the pillow proved too tempting and he was out like a light. It made sense, Rhydians’ was the only room that wasn’t covered in dust and preservation shields—the kid had much more freedom to play.

Someone else had been in his room in the time since Kyr packed the house up, and you didn’t need to be psychic to know it was Kai.

Din had been kind – awkwardly so – when he returned back downstairs after scoping out the house for danger. He had seen the empty bedrooms and the tell-tale signature of those who once lived in them. He had taken the plate of food you rustled up, a silent jerk of his head for you to sit together like you normally would—back to back.

A deflective “you choose” was met by silence. The warrior relented on the topic, which you were grateful for—going back to eating the cheese and cured meats you had laid out.

It was only later, when you convinced him that no one came this far north of the Seat and he could take a shower without worry—that you managed to go for a stroll by yourself.

Finding yourself looking out at the oceans of Pamarthe once more, you sat. Truth be told, you never thought you would see this image again. But there it was; Llyrian and Amhra’s eternal dance of wind and waves. The rush of water smashing against the rock and drowning out the loud noise in your head.

That was where the Mandalorian found you after he noticed you were gone once he was out of the shower, and worry began to gnaw at him.

You hadn’t noticed the time passing.

You didn’t make any indication that you saw him, but he didn’t try to mask the crunch of his footsteps through the sand, or the rustle of his cape against his back.

His shadow fell across you from behind, and when he crouched down beside you on the sand—the fresh smell of soap tickled your nostrils from his damp hair beneath the helmet. It caused you to look over at him finally, to that familiar T-visor you so loved.

“Hey,” you muttered quietly.

“Hi,” he rasped after a moment, reaching over the short distance to cup the side of your neck in silent question, his thumb gliding along the line of your jaw.

You were helpless to lean into the hold, that strength that supported you so effortlessly putting your mind at ease. Sending him a small smile, you turned your gaze back out onto the water, the night sky staining it black with the unattainable stars above suddenly within reach as they were captured in the reflection of the waves.

He shifted beside you, a grunt of stiffness absently alerting your subconscious that you should really check on his ribs and shoulder, before he sat fully on the sand and leaned back on his hands. A vulnerable pose, you came to realize. He wasn’t poised for any attacks, he wasn’t on guard. He was simply…relaxed.

“So…this is it,” you opened your arms out to the sea, sucking in a breath at the pitiful welcome you had given him to your home planet. All you had done was fret and complain and mope since you got here. Weren’t you supposed to be showing him the sights or something like that?

“What do you think?”

Wait. Did you say that?

It slipped out unintentionally, your eyes rounding in realization as they snapped to his visor sheepishly.

“I mean—”

“If you had told me when I was a kid,” he interrupted with a low gravel, “that planets made almost entirely of water existed—I wouldn’t have believed you.”

You cocked your head, curious—toes wiggling beneath the sand and letting the rough caress of it tickle your feet.

“Your home planet?” you ventured to ask.

“Aq Vetina.”

You never heard of it, but more than that—you never expected him to tell you its name.

“It has no oceans?” How odd.

He shook his head, still staring out at the endless waters.

“None that I can remember anyway,” he admitted.

He had made to continue his sentence—an intake of breath and rumble of syllables that lay trapped behind his teeth as he caught them. Considered them while you considered him.

You couldn’t help but feel that this was important. As much as his name, as much as his armor. This was something about his life before his Creed, much like this cove was your life before the Rebellion. And he offered it to you freely…

“I like it,” he finally said, surprising you with his candor.

I like it.

So simple a statement, banal some might say but you found yourself storing it away in the box that had always been filled to the brim with suppressed fear and anxiety. It deserved to have something nice in there for once.

Expression softening, you considered something different. Without him—you didn’t think you would ever have found yourself on these shores again.

“I used to think you needed an ocean to have sand,” you smiled, “you can imagine my surprise when I saw Tatooine for the first time.”

Din chuckled then, dropping his head with a shake at the absurdity of your words and your heart grew about three sizes too big for your chest.

“You weren’t wrong, as usual,” he snorted, sitting up to slide one of his arms around your waist. With a tug, he had you rolling your eyes with a vacant smile, as you turned to straddle his lap, “Tatooine used to be covered in water once.”

“So…what you’re saying is—I am always right?”

You were teasing him, your arms hooked around his neck and a playful grin a permanent fixture on your lips while he dropped his hands back to your ass—your legs spread invitingly to frame his large, armored thighs.

The man was obsessed with your ass lately, not that you were complaining. It was a decadent stroke to your ego that after so long, he was still ravenous for you. As you were for him.

It was evident in the thickness of his voice—the decided huskiness of misdirected thoughts as he pulled you closer to him.

“Unless it’s about engineering.”

You whacked his shoulder lightly to his amusement, regretting ever letting him record that. Though—now that he was wearing his helmet…an insidious little fiend inside you wondered if that was the only thing he was able to record.

“I was right about you, wasn’t I?” you hummed, running your hands down his chest plate.

That caught his attention, his head cocking sharply while he nudged your forehead with his own.

“Right about me how?” he purred, intrigued and failing to hide how much he wanted to know the answer as it streaked across his tone.

“When you dislocated your shoulder,” you reminded him, “I—”

You cut yourself off, embarrassed. That was years ago—how could you expect him to remember? How did you remember? A medic’s memory retention—that was it.

“You said I didn’t seem like a bad guy… he finished for you, a bounty hunter memory apparently equally as good.

Flushing dark, you dropped your eyes to nod slowly.

Maker, this man would be the death of you.

He gripped the back of your neck, not unlike how other members of Clan Carria would—but firmer, more possessive as he made you look up at him.

“And now?” he growled quietly, the hot air of his breath escaping under the lip of his helmet and skirting across your chest.

“Now…” your eyes flickered left and right across his visor, your hands finding his utility belt to undo nimbly.

Now I love you.

It was on the tip of your tongue, nectar sweet and ready—but your courage fled. You covered it with your hand undoing his fly so you could push your hand in to stroke his hardening cock and listen to his breath hitch instead.

Your lips parted on a lazy smirk, flattening your palm down to fondle his balls. Dropping your mouth to his neck seal and the delicious sliver of skin just beneath his helmet—you flicked your tongue over the tawny, freshly washed skin. He groaned—and a narcotic of power hazed your mind.

His finger in your hair, you didn’t resist when he dragged your face up to rest your forehead against his—watching yourself in the reflection of his obsidian visor and seeing the feelings you had for him reflected like the stars in the sea.

“Now you’re mine,” you whispered hotly, eyes darkening under the moons glow and basking in the feral snarl of approval it elicited from your lover.

“Say it…” you continued, his cock a heavy weight in your hand now, his low groan music in your ear while you ground your hips shallowly in time to your hand, “say it, Din--£

“Yours,” he panted out, voice strained and fingers bruising into the supple flesh of your thighs. His forehead dropped to rest on your shoulder, “yours, kitten.”

Pride filled you, an intoxicating wine you luxuriated in. Yours.

Stars, you wanted to take his helmet off—wanted to kiss him, caress his scruffy jaw and smooth out the frown between his brows with your lips. But the moon was bright as it bounced off the waves, there was too much visibility and you both knew it.

But he was here, and it was enough.

He grunted your name, his body a furnace beneath you as hot hands trailed up to the band of your pants. You gasped when he dealt a hard slap to your ass when you dared remove your hand from inside his pants, gentling him with a purr as you licked your palm so you wouldn’t be stroking him raw.

He was so solid. The veiny underside pulsing against your hand and the swell of his girth preventing your fingers from touching. It still baffled you how in Malachor he fit inside you half the time.

“Did you bring spare pants?” he rasped thickly, caramel sticking to your lips and making you swipe your tongue across your bottom one.

The filthiest groan left him when you focused on massaging the head of his cock, stroking up over it diligently and giving it the slightly squeeze to push beads of precum from his slit down to coat your hand.

You nodded – yes – and before you knew it, he had gripped the band of your pants and ripped the once durable material down the seam, your ass pushing out of the rip that widened with each violent yank until your bare pussy was kissed by cool air.

Fuck, you loved when he was brutal—when he used that strength on you. It was too fucking addictive.

You told him as much in whispered secrets, mewling his name as a lick of shivers rippled over your skin from the contrast between his body and the air. It didn’t stop you from grabbing the hem of your top though, and pulling it over your head—your breasts instantly engulfed by his hands.

“Fuck, kitten—I love these tits.”

You arched your back, his thumb running over pebbled nipples and the weight of your breasts in each hand encouraging your hips to work over his plated thighs as small spasms of arousal shot from where his hands touched you.

You submerged yourself in him. Eyes closed and focusing all your senses on him—sounds, smells, sensations…he was a drug you could never quit when every hit was as good as the first. Better even.

“Tide’s coming in—we don’t have long,” you whispered, pulling his cock from inside his flight suit to smack sloppily against your swollen clit. Neglected so far, each slap sent a frisson of electricity through you and caused wetness to pool, twitching thrusts and whimpers for more while he growled possessively.

“The tide can fucking wait.”

Then he was inside you.

Gripping his base, he pressed into you from below—filling you with his heft and giving you no time to adjust as inch by inch he sank into you. A moan choked in your throat, your legs quaking above him and every involuntary movement had you gasping with unrestrained pleasure.

Maker, he felt so good. And today had been so fucking hard, you needed this.

You rode him like that. On the shores of the sea, his wet cock sliding in and out of your cunt with every frantic lift onto your knees before you sank back down on him greedily.

The burning in your thighs didn’t matter. The stress of being home didn’t matter. All that mattered was him and you, on this beach in this moment.

Sea foam tickled your toes from where the tide was moving inland, a film of water creeping ever closer completely ignored by both of you when he gripped you under the thighs to flip you over onto your back. It splashed against the wet sand, hair soaked and body shining as he resettled between your legs.

Notching his cock back at your entrance, your head fell back into the sand when he filled you once more.

“Maker, this cunt…” Din growled, pushing your thigh up and opening you wider for him to drill into you.

Your moans bounced off the cliff side and tangled with the roar of the ocean as your Mandalorian fucked you harder into the sand. Like he was trying to bury you, bury every bad fucking thing that had ever happened to either of you.

Furious, desperately—he pounded out every second of melancholy from you after a difficult day, filled you instead with blissful nothingness as your mind emptied with a primal instinct to mate. All you needed was him. Him—inside you, fucking you forever. Nothing could be better, nothing felt more right.

Salt on your tongue, the ocean kissed you where he couldn’t. Lapping against your skin and into your hair, the warrior joined it with a rough tangle of his fingers at the base of your scalp.

Splitting your walls around his cock with every full thrust, he dragged along your nerves and short-circuited the synapses of your brain that fizzled with desire. They exploded in a collection of miniscule orgasms along your skin, to his growling praise of “take it, take all of this cock—” until it culminated in a cry of unadulterated bliss when he dropped a hand to your clit to rub at the little nub frantically and sent you toppling over the edge.

“C’mon—keep going, kitten,” he compelled you, refusing to stop.

His hips were tireless and his thumb on your clit even more so as the sting of overstimulation melted into pleasure once more. He had you shattering around him again in no time—clawing at his neck seal for purchase as sand dried and caked over your bare body and settled into the fabric of his flight suit.

He filled your vision and you preened under the size of him hovering above you. Consuming you. Claiming you.

“You’ve got another one for me, don’t you?” he purred huskily, slipping out of you with a squelch of wetness and a flush of raw nerves at the sudden emptiness.

Strings of release hung between you, only to be broken when he turned you onto your stomach.

You whimpered, shaking your head even as you pushed your ass up—onto your knees, and pressed your fingers between messy lips and pushed them higher. To your untouched rear entrance that sat puckered and glistening from your arousal dribbling down to it.

He sucked in a breath, your lip caught between your teeth when his cock twitched violently—jutting up from his body with unsatiated arousal. Stars, he looked like a god. The ethereal blue light of the moon and the shifting surface of the water casting curls of luminescence across his armor and helmet.

He belonged in stories sang by bards, awe-inspiring and immortalized.

You wanted a sliver of that mighty being he emulated, wanted his eternity.

“Only if you fuck me here…” you heard yourself whine, circling your ass lightly with two fingers, smearing all that viscous release over it.

Your muscles jumped at the contact – unaccustomed to it – but with a little resistance, your fingers breached that tight ring of muscles and Din groaned in a rumble so thick, so sinful—that you had to clench your pussy to stop from orgasming prematurely from just the sound.

“Maker, kitten—fuck.”

One of his hands squeezed the turgid shaft, his free hand running reverently up the back of your sandy thigh to watch as you fingered your ass gingerly.

Cheek pressed onto your forearm to keep your head propped out of the water, you whimpered when you pushed too deep—raw from your impatience and a twinge of pain the result.

“Easy…” Din rumbled, forming a gloved hand over yours, slowing your pace to guide your fingers in and out… in and out… “that’s it…relax—”

His voice was crooning the praise, even as he knelt up behind you properly—lining himself up and steadying you when you pushed back against his crotch. He hushed your protesting whines when he pushed back inside your cunt though, growling for your patience.

A harsh slap fell to your cheek, then another, and another when you didn’t stop—a snarled warning in your ear when he started fucking you again. Timing his strokes to the sloppy thrusts of your fingers not yet used to fingering your ass, he made sure you were always full.

Maker, it was so good…so fucking good—

“More,” you begged, arm cramping from the awkward position and forcing you to pull your fingers out of you to splash into the water beside you.

“Filthy fucking thing—you want me to fuck this little hole, baby?” Din scoffed, massaging his thumb over your entrance as his hips continued to piston his cock into your pussy with long, hard thrusts.

Your head dropped forward—ass pushing back against him and choking on moans for more while he pulled off one of his gloves to toss forgotten on the sands. He replaced your fingers, hooking his thick thumb inside your ass and the size of just that digit had you jerking with the pressure of pleasure it resulted in.

“Fuck—fuck fuckfuck—” you moaned, spasming around him, your knees trembling.

“If you’re too full now—you’ll, fuck—you’ll never be a-able to take my cock—” he chuckled darkly, his vocoder sharpening his voice to an alluring snarl. His words, however, sparked that competitive streak inside you even though the fog of lust.

“Don’t—don’t u-underestimate me,” you panted, leaning forward so his cock was forced to slip out of you when he withdrew. You were playing with fire as you crawled a few steps away, looking over your shoulder at him all the while, “I want you to be the first.”

You were throwing a cheap blow with that one. Looking at him with tempting innocence, knowing he was a hot-blooded male who craved your body and everything he could get from it. Being the first one to fuck your ass would be too good to resist. For either of you.

The Mandalorian knew what you were doing though. He groaned at the restraint he was being forced to display while he contradicted that control with the greedy addition of another finger deep into your ass, stretching you further. You mewled. Arched your back at the pressure but finding a delicious – unique – pleasure laced alongside the discomfort.

Dropping a hand to your clit, you flicked the swollen button to loosen your muscles, your hips rocking against your hand while Din continued to war with himself.

Growling something in Mando’a, he finally relented. And fuck, it blinded you.

The next thing you knew, the fat head of his cock – slippery with your essence – was pressing against your tight ring of muscles. He was massive. Bigger than he felt at your cunt. Rubbing your clit frantically, you encouraged him with panted reassurance—driven wild by his shallow thrusts between your cheeks.

You cried out when his intention shifted and he pushed—your fingers nothing compared to the girth of him as his head breached your entrance and had you fuller than you had ever been before. Stars dotted your vision and you couldn’t catch your breath, sharp pants all you were capable of when your walls throbbed around his intrusion.

Burning pleasure ripped through you as new nerves were ignited and played with, your orgasm brutal. It squirted over the sand with violent jerks of bliss while your fingers continued to work on your clit shakily.

Din was no better. He was quaking with restraint, planting his hand on your shoulder lest you move back too quickly amidst your orgasm and hurt yourself or—possibly, move away. He didn’t want either, he wanted you right here where you were, under him and completely boneless with ecstasy.

“S-so tight, Maker—fuck—” he groaned, the chokehold you held him in too much even for him, and it only took a few short snaps of his hips for him to come deep inside you.

You felt him in your throat—filling you with cum while only his head was notched inside your ass. You were bloated with it, shaking with the temptation of deeper but knowing there was no rush. He could fuck your ass an inch deeper each time for all you cared—you were floating on the reality that he did.

He had taken you the way no man ever had before.

“L-Love you…” you panted quietly against your forearm, arm braced onto the sand by your face while he worked through his release, grunting your name when his high abated and he eased the head of his cock out of you.

It made you hiss, a noise that encouraged his affection as he gentled you with a heavy hand tracing down your curves.

If he heard you hiss—then surely he heard…?

“Did I hurt you?” he rasped, leaning to the side for so his hip could support his weight despite the shallow water around you, worry laced in his tone.

Ah. Maybe not…

You shook your head, turning with ragdoll limbs to nestle against him and released a sigh of contentment—rather than the sighs of apprehension and loss that had been escaping you all day.

It was just another thing you loved him for, and you had all the time in the world to tell him each and every one of those reasons. Right now, his soothing hands running over your sore muscles and graveled words of secret affection were enough to get you through the night.

A night you had feared would break you in the end.

It didn’t because despite your fears, you weren’t alone in that house anymore.

Crack.

Freeze.

The nocturnal glint of vision went unnoticed amongst the underbrush, the noise and stomping and destruction of the party up ahead covering a misplaced paw.

Follow them.

Darkness.

Wind and rain.

Glass.

Tap tap tap.

Hello, child.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #djarinsbeskar writes #stitches #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando #din djarin #mando smut #mando x you #mando x reader #star wars smut #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut

271 notes · View notes