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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year ago

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A FRESH START [23]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: none really, fluff?

Word Count: 4,201

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i'm so sorry this is late and i'm so sorry it's short. this will technically be considered this week's update, but i didn't want to wait until it truly became 06/01 because i know y'all have been waiting for this so you get it a few hours early😭]

#23: IT'S A SURPRISE

"dating isn't about dating anymore. you are picking your potential apocalypse partner. choose wisely folks." -unknown

“A date?” You asked in surprise.

Din nodded once, his tone nonchalant, “Yes.” Honestly, you weren’t sure why you were surprised. The two of you were courting. That’s what a courting couple did, right? Assuming that a courting couple was the exact equivalent of dating. If Din saw your mild confusion, he made no comment on it. He was leaning against the kitchen counter as you packed Grogu a lunch for his day. “Well, the more accurate translation from Mando’a is ‘courting session’, but date sounds better.”

You chuckled. “It does.” You zipped up Grogu’s lunch bag and bit your lower lip in a nervous excitement before shrugging once. “What happens during a Mandalorian ‘courting session’? An impromptu bounty hunting mission? Live combat?” The words were said with a teasing tone, but Din not reply and your eyes widened. “Din, do Mandalorians hunt quarries for their date nights?”

“No.” He answered quickly. “And I would never take you on a hunt. Maker, I’d be sick with worry.” He mumbled the last bit with a shake of his head. Finally, he shrugged. “The combat part isn’t so far off though.” You raised an eyebrow in question. “My people weren’t able to sit around a table to share food or bond over a meal. We shared stories and time through training so… courting and training tended to go hand in hand.”

It made a weird amount of sense to you. How much of your life was spent sitting at a table with family and friends sharing lives or talking over breakfast, lunch, or dinner? So much of a person’s culture and history was orally passed down through mealtimes and before this moment you never gave it a second thought. It never occurred to you how a family that couldn’t reveal their faces would bond and share their lives with one another. Mandalorians choosing combat as their bonding activity of choice was more than fitting.

“Alright.” You nodded. Din seemed to release a breath of relief and you found it endearing and adorable that he was nervous about asking you this. As if you wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to spend more time with him. “But, if I go on a Mandalorian date you have to go on a not Mandalorian date.”

“A not Mandalorian date?” Din chuckled. “What happens during one of those?”

“It’s a surprise.” You replied simply. It was a ploy to buy yourself some more time to think of something great. It had been ages since you last went on a date, and you had never been on a date with a Mandalorian let alone a Mandalorian you loved. This needed to be perfect. “What kind of combat should I expect?”

“It’s a surprise.” Din echoed your sentiment. You chuckled and when he reached out to lightly grasp your wrist and pull you around the kitchen island, you let him. His hands settled on your hips as he tugged you into his chest⏤ you let your own hands wrap around the back of his neck in response. The motions were so fluid and natural to you. Second nature. Din lightly tapped his helmet against your forehead. “You gonna close your eyes or not, ner kar’ta?”

“Depends.” You teased.

“Yeah? On what?”

“You gonna fix the bathroom door or not?” You replied. Din chuckled sheepishly. The bathroom's doorway had been covered with a simple sheet since being broken down last week. It was simply a running joke on how long it’d take to get it replaced. You didn’t really care all that much. Especially since you knew Din had been crazy busy with getting the Mandalorians settled in Nevarro⏤ and simply restoring Nevarro as well.

Din shook his head. “I’m working on it.”

“Don’t worry. I was just gonna have Paz over to fix it for us⏤”

Din turned your back to the island counter and he pushed you so he could pin your hips against the cabinets there. He leaned in, his voice low enough to be a growl, “Close your eyes.” Unable to resist, you let your eyes fall closed while a smirk continued to play on your lips. Only seconds after they had shut did you feel Din move abruptly and suddenly his lips were pressed against yours in a crushing kiss. With one hand cupping the side of your face, Din molded his lips against yours forcing them to part so he could let his tongue explore your mouth. Maker, he was getting too good at this. The frantic and desperate kiss had a possessive edge to it that you found yourself craving. Din nipped at your lower lip suddenly and you sucked in a sharp breath in response. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let his lips trail along your jaw down to your neck where he began to leave open mouth kisses.

“Din…” You gasped, breathless, as his teeth grazed your skin. The feel of his hot tongue gliding over where his teeth had grazed you made your body tremble. You buried a hand into Din’s soft hair. The only image you had of his pretty, brown hair was that one morning so long ago where you had seen him from behind. Just a flash. A vague memory of slightly curled locks. You raked your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly, and Din groaned against your neck. You wanted to see his hair so badly, but for now you’d settle for feeling it between your fingers.

“We… We gotta go to work.” You mumbled.

Din pulled your scrubs collar to the side so he could pepper kisses along your collarbone. “We’ll call in sick.”

“The marshal and doctor of Nevarro?” You chuckled. “Playing hooky?”

“They’ll survive one day without us.” Din replied.

“Grogu is right down the hall. Do you really want him to walk in and see this?”

Din pressed his lips softly to the space right underneath your ear and you let out a shuddered breath, “We’re his parents.” You could feel his breath against your skin. “We’re supposed to scar him for life, I think.”

You tugged on his hair lightly to pull his lips up to yours so you could capture him in a chaste kiss. There was something about the way Din would so casually refer to you as Grogu’s official caretaker that sent chills up your spine. It felt permanent. It gave you a look into a more concrete future. One where Din and Grogu were both yours and yours alone.

Din let out a soft sigh before pulling back. You waited to open your eyes until you felt the cool metal of his helmet pressing against your forehead. You drummed your fingers against the armor covering his chest. “So, when’s this Mandalorian courting session of ours?”

“How about this weekend?” Din asked. “We should both have some time off then.”

“Perfect.” You agreed, and it was. With Din by your side, you felt safe. The world wasn’t perfect, far from it, and scars still littered your soul. However, Din made it bearable. You didn’t have to be scared or worried. Not with him. Never with him. “Lemme go check on Grogu. He’s been a little too quiet for a little too long.”

“True.” Din squeezed your hips once before allowing you to slip away.

You glanced at him over your shoulder with a smile⏤ you’d never get tired of staring at his tall and broad form. Even covered head to toe in layers of clothes and metal, Din was gorgeous. You slipped down the hall and called out for the little boy to hear no reply.

“Grogu?” You poked your head into Din’s bedroom to see a green ear sticking out from his hammock. You frowned in confusion. Why had he crawled back into bed? “Grogu, baby, you’re gonna be late.”

“No.” He blurted.

Your eyes widened, “Grogu⏤”

“No. Don’t wanna go.” Grogu mumbled.

Worried, you reached into the hammock and pulled Grogu out of his blankets and into your chest. He curled up there without hesitation and with a furrowed brow you rubbed his back. “Baby boy, what’s going on?”

“No.” He just repeated the word.

School was not back in session. Wynn’s funeral was two days ago and though there were people to rise up and pick up her role in this community they had big shoes to fill and no one was quite ready to attempt that yet. However, one of the Mandalorians offered to host a daycare-esque group in order to watch the children of parents who needed to work. You were fairly certain this babysitting would involve training of sorts. This seemed more likely after hearing Din explain what a courting session was.

“Don’t you wanna go see your friends?” You asked.

“El not there.” Grogu pouted.

“Right.” You nodded. Elodie was still off world with her parents. She was doing very well, but it might be a while longer before they returned. “But Poe will be there, and all your other friends.”

“Miss not there.”

Your heart broke at his quivering words. Grogu had not handled the funeral well at all. You knew he was taking the loss of his teacher hard. You hugged him tighter to your chest and let out a soft sigh. A knock made you glance over your shoulder to see that Din had followed after you since you hadn’t returned with the green boy in tow.

“Is everything okay?” Din came closer. He reached out and set his hand on top of Grogu’s head. “Ad’ika?”

“No!” Grogu chirped again and kept his face buried against you.

You felt Din’s gaze lift to yours. He tilted his head and you replied quietly, “He misses Wynn.” Din’s shoulders slumped. Quickly, you squeezed Grogu in your arms. “How about you come to work with me today, baby?”

“Lek!” Grogu’s head shot up. “Lek! Lek, Ma.”

You felt relief flood your heart at seeing Grogu’s mood shift back to his typical eager self. Din’s hand settled on your lower back and he leaned in. “Are you sure that’s okay? I can take him, ner kar’ta.”

“You’re gonna be moving all around the city today.” You shook your head. “It’ll be easier for me to watch him.” You shot him a smile. “Plus, you got to spend weeks with him alone and exploring the universe. It’s my turn to hog his attention.”

Din chuckled. “Alright. That’s fair.”

You tickled Grogu’s side and he laughed at the distraction. Taking the boy into work with you today, though most likely a distraction, would be fun. With the decision settled, the three of you made your way out of the house and into the city’s center. This was always one of your favorite activities. Walking with your boys was the perfect start to your day.

“Be good for Ma today, ad’ika.” Din bowed his head against Grogu’s as you came to a stop outside the clinic. Grogu gave his father’s helmet a few pats. Din lifted his gaze back to your, and you heard amusement fill his voice as he lifted his hand to caress the side of your neck. “You be good today too, ner kar’ta.”

“Hm.” You replied with a smirk. “No promises.”

Din chuckled with a shake of his head and he lingered in his spot while you and Grogu headed into the clinic. You glanced over your shoulder to give him a small wave before slipping out of his line of sight. You bounced Grogu in your arms, “Alright, baby, let’s find you some stuff to do while Ma works, huh?”

“Lek!”

“You don’t have to plan to go yet. We always have a place for you.” Din said warmly to Vanth who was sitting on his desk. The man had healed up well, but there were still lingering scars and bruises from the fight. Din would always be in this man’s debt for the lengths he went to in order to protect Nevarro while Din was gone.

“Don’t say that.” Mayfeld cried out. “How the hell are we gonna get rid of him if you keep offering a spot??”

Vanth chuckled. “Oh, come on, Miggsy. I thought you liked me as a roommate. Why else did you offer me your spare room?”

“I didn’t! You invited yourself!”

Din listened to the men argue with a chuckle. The building Vanth had been staying in was one of the housing areas destroyed in the attack. As much as they seemed to be at one another’s neck, Din had a feeling that they’d miss one another deep down. Deep, deep down. Their relationship reminded him of the one he shared with Paz. Din would go to war to protect his brother in arms and support him, but he also wanted to wring the man’s neck most days.

“Djarin!”

Speak of the devil…

Din glanced over his shoulder to see Paz step into the marshal office and he made the room look so much smaller just from his size and presence. It felt odd to hear his name said in public like that. With the migration of Mandalorians to Nevarro, Din realized he might need to make alterations. Most of the city still called him Marshal because he didn’t offer them his name, but Din did choose to share it with his inner circle. Vanth, Mayfeld, Karga, Peli, Nima. Just the people he trusted without a doubt.

“You needed to speak to me?” Paz spoke up. “Can you make this quick? I wanted to swing by the clinic to greet wero’ika⏤”

“I gave her my token of intention.” Din snapped. “She accepted, we’re courting. Back off.”

Paz let out a full belly laugh and it took a bulk of Din’s self control to not shoot him. Vanth and Mayfeld had put aside their bickering to focus on the conversation at hand. Din grumbled in annoyance. The one thing that got both men to end an argument was always at his sake it seemed.

“Whoa, wait, you’re talking about Soran?” Mayfeld cried out. “I assume that’s the only person in the clinic you’d be courting.”

Vanth chuckled. “Courting. That’s adorable, brother. Is it a Mandalorian thing?”

“Also, why would you even need to court her?” Mayfeld suddenly added. “The two of you are practically married already. You live together and share a son. You got ‘couple celebrating their tenth anniversary’ vibes.”

Din shook his head in exasperation, but he didn’t bother voicing the fact that he quite liked that everyone in the city seemed to forget you had started as his son’s nanny. As far as they were concerned, you were Grogu’s mother and that made Din’s heart ache with pride.

“In order to properly wed someone to Mandalorian customs, courting must come first. It's taken him long enough.” Paz answered. Both men had already been introduced to Din’s brother days ago when rebuilding and clean up of the city had started. “We have a word for him in Mando’a. Utreekov.”

Din rolled his eyes and Mayfeld let out a laugh. Din’s head snapped to the deputy, “Why’re you laughing? You don’t even know the word.”

“No, but I’m decent at context clues and can make a pretty good bet.” Mayfeld snickered.

“When is your first courting session?” Paz demanded.

Mayfeld narrowed his eyes. “Wait, does that mean ‘date’?”

Vanth crossed his arms and shot his friend a wide, mocking grin. “Hot damn, Miggsy! You are good with those context clues, ain’t ya?”

“You’re literally the worst.” Mayfeld grumbled.

Din crossed his arms. “This weekend.”

“And have you chosen your combat activity yet?”

Vanth and Mayfeld both paused their bickering once more to snap their attention to Paz. Vanth spoke up first. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘combat activity’? Because if so, I have many questions.”

“Not yet.” Din answered Paz’s question, choosing to ignore Vanth’s. “Why?”

“Am I not allowed to ask?”

Din narrowed his eyes at Paz dubiously. He wouldn’t describe his brother as necessarily ‘nosy’, and he didn’t think Paz would deliberately undermine him. However, he remained skeptical nonetheless. Mayfeld cleared his throat and waved his hand once. “Can we circle back around to 'combat on a date'?”

“It’s just a custom we have.” Din replied in an offhand manner.

Vanth shrugged. “Why get a drink together when you can try to stab one another with a knife?”

“Hm,” Din hummed, “Training with her new dagger actually isn’t a terrible idea.”

“We have different definitions of the word ‘terrible’.” Mayfeld snorted.

“Actually,” Vanth countered, “I think you should use context clues to realize that our buddy Din here⏤”

“Maker, can you leave already!?”

Din nodded his head for Paz to follow him and both Mandalorians walked back to Din’s office leaving Mayfeld and Vanth in the main room. In the privacy of his office, Din turned to face Paz who spoke before he could.

“Did you call me here to ask for advice, vod?” Paz chuckled.

“No, I⏤ Wait, advice for what?”

“For courting gar kar’ta?”

Din bristled in annoyance at Paz picking fun at his nickname for you. He crossed his arms, “Why would I need your advice?” He scoffed. “You’ve known her for a little over a week.”

“I know how little experience you have courting at all. Thought I would help as able. You know,” Paz had a tone in his voice that told Din the man was grinning as he slipped into Mando’a, “So you don’t fuck it up, Djarin.”

Din scoffed. Honestly, he knew if he had a question on the topic of courting he could come to Paz for an answer. He would be mocked relentlessly, but after the ribbing Paz would eventually get to the advice. The issue was Din didn’t even know what to ask. Paz was right. Din had very, very little experience in courting. It was never a priority for him until meeting you. His biggest fear regarding the courting was that his lack of experience would somehow mess this up, but Din had to remind himself how easy things were with you. It was natural.

“So?” Paz pressed.

“Well,” Din began, “I was⏤ Wait, no, stop. That’s not what I called you here for.”

“You sure? It seems you need all the help you can get.”

“B'epa slaat bal ramaana.”

Paz’s howling laughter made Din regret calling him into the office in the first place.

“I told you to keep that bandage dry and you didn’t.” You snapped at one of the local construction workers sitting on your cot. Today wasn't too busy which was nice. Grogu was bouncing happily in the sling you wore which tied him to your front. You covered his large ears, making him glance up at you, then spoke. “That’s why the damn thing is infected, you idiot.”

The worker gave you a sheepish smile. He was a repeat offender which gave him the honor of getting to hear your full thought process rather than the more politically correct version. You uncovered Grogu’s ears and he just laughed at your antics as if it were a game you were playing with him. Aayla drifted over and you gave the woman a broad grin.

“What would you do?” You asked, quizzing her.

Her eyes brightened, excited to be challenged, “Clean the wound today. Replace the bandages. Then start him on an anti-bacterial.”

“Ointment or oral medication?” You pressed.

Aayla paused in thought then sighed, “I… I’m not sure.”

“That’s alright. You’re learning, and you’re doing great.” You reassured her. “We’re gonna start him on an oral medicine to take because he’s an idiot,” Your eyes dragged to his as you emphasized your words, “that needs to keep his wound dry and clean before the infection turns systemic.”

Aayla giggled and the man laughed as well in good nature. You shook your head and began to walk away to leave Aayla to clean up his wound. Grogu bounced in the sling and began to chant, “Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

“No, no, baby.” You looked down and tugged him lightly on the ear. “That’s an adult word, you don’t use that.”

He repeated the word twice more, making you wince, but you supposed it wasn’t the worst thing for the child to repeat. As often as Din barked out the curse ‘dank farrik’ around the house it was a miracle Grogu hadn’t added that phrase to his vocabulary.

“Hey!” You glanced over to see Nima sweep into the room with a wave. She hurried over to greet you and Grogu. “Hey there, you green little bug.”

“Idiot!”

Nima’s eyes widened, “Whoa, hey.”

“Sorry, he’s been blurting it out because I told him not to say it.”

“Oh, okay. I was about to be super sad.” Nima chuckled. She reached out and tickled Grogu who squealed in response. “How come you got the baby with you?” You shook your head to let her know you’d tell her later. Not wanting to bring up the topic of Wynn in front of Grogu again. Nima picked up and moved on. “Busy morning?”

You shook your head. “Not so much. It’s been alright. You?”

“These days we’re so busy with repairs I don’t think I’ve touched an engine block in days.” Nima groaned. “I’m happy to be helpful, but Maker, do I miss tinkering.”

“Well, I might have news that’ll cheer you up.” You grinned. “Din and I are going on our first date this weekend.”

Nima scoffed. “Date? Why don’t you guys just get married already?”

“Nima.”

“Fine.” Her lips turned into a bright smile. “So date, huh? What’s on the agenda?”

“Hand to hand combat. Maybe.” You shrugged and Nima tilted her head in alarm. You explained to her the Mandalorian custom then focused on your half. “I get to plan a regular date though.”

Nima clapped her hands in excitement and Grogu copied her motions while peering up at you. “Do you have an idea yet??”

You nodded and bit your lower lip before voicing your thoughts. “I was thinking of making us a picnic to lay out in our living room. Pin up string lights, make a nice meal with wine and dessert.” Nima blinked at you without a reaction. “What?”

“That’s kind of… boring, isn’t it?” Nima scrunched her nose. “I just mean, I thought you guys would do something exciting! The lava plains does tours that’ll take you right up to the volcano’s edge. There are hot springs at the outside of the city where the two of you could share a bath.” She shimmied her shoulder. “You know, something like that.”

You twisted your lips, “You think he won’t like my idea?”

“You know your husband better than I do.” Nima held her hands out in surrender, Grogu mimicking her once more. You rolled your eyes at the ‘husband’ comment. “I was just offering my two cents.”

You hummed in thought and stood in place as Nima pulled a bag of candy out of her shoulder pack and began to feed them to Grogu who gobbled them up happily. Technically, the date you had in mind really wasn’t the most exciting of things the two of you could do. That being said, it felt right. Going on a lava plains tour, Din would be stressing the entire time about you accidentally falling into the mouth of a volcano to fully relax. Going to the hot springs, Din couldn’t actually enjoy it with you unless he decided to strip out of his armor and you knew he didn’t like being bare out in even a semi-public area. You also couldn’t go out to eat or for drinks in the city since he couldn’t remove his helmet.

More so, staying at home allowed you the opportunity to get his mouth on you which was always a plus. All those thoughts should put a stone of anxiety in your belly, but instead all you felt was excitement. The comfort and safety Din brought with his presence left no room for doubt or strain. He was home.

"Oh, also, I was gonna ask," Nima pointed at your neck, "What's up with the giant hickey?"

"Huh?" You blurted. Nima rustle through her pack again and pulled out a compact mirror. She held it up to you and your eyes widened at the sight of the two darker patches of skin where Din had left bruises with his kisses this morning. One on your neck and the other by your collarbone. Your face warmed up and an amused smile pulled up the corners of your lips. "That son of a bitch."

Grogu squealed, "Son of a bitch!"

mando'a translations:

ner kar'ta: my heart ad'ika: little one vod: brother utreekov: idiot gar kar'ta: your heart b'epa slaat bal ramaana: eat dirt and die

taglist (closed):

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #a fresh start #reader insert #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader

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anyasathenaeum · 4 months ago

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Our Father, Who Art In Heaven (98!WW X Reader Smut)

A/N: Hey everybody, I'm baaaaack! It's been a bit of a stressful and busy time, but hopefully you guys can enjoy this. I actually wrote this piece well over a year ago privately (for my dearest and best friend, @vanille-sweet, who has kindly granted me permission to alter and share this work so you can all enjoy it!). Literally nobody asked for this but here, have it anyways. I went with 98!WW here. Please be nice. Warnings: MINORS DNI!, AFAB!Reader (female terms used), smut (lots of it), sacrilege (y'all get nasty in a church), oral (female receiving), P in V sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), a tiny hint of exhibitionism towards the end, WW has a thing for being called "Father" (does that count as a daddy kink?...), no established relationship

Time on the road was wearing you down.

Slowly but surely, you felt your resilience and your drive to continue beginning to die out. Everything was becoming too much for you to handle. From the chaos of being around Vash, all the people hunting him down and, by extension, you and the others, to just constantly moving from town to town, you found yourself exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, you were drained.

What you hadn't expected was to find solace and a moment of peace in a place you had only stepped foot into maybe once before - a church. It was nothing special - no beautiful stained glass windows, no huge arches, no beautiful, expensive chandeliers. Just a small building with an alter, a confessional, and a bunch of small, wooden pews for those wishing to pray in this tiny town.

You now found yourself sitting in one of those pews, entirely alone in the whole building, left to be with your thoughts and emotions and try to sort yourself out. You sighed heavily, resting your head on the pew in front of you, shutting your eyes tightly as your exhaustion coursed through you.

"Hey, pretty lady, whatcha doing here in the house of the Lord?"

The sudden voice scared the crap out of you, causing you to yelp and jump straight out of your skin, turning to see Wolfwood standing there, smiling coolly as if he hadn't just scared you.

"Oh, Wolfwood, it's just you. You startled me," You replied, letting out a deep breath and lean back against the pew where you were sitting, your gaze going straight up to the ceiling as you answered him, "I'm just... thinking."

Wolfwood didn't say anything as he approached you, sitting directly next to you in the same pew. Once he had been seated, he spoke softly.

"Thinking about what? You don't look too happy, I gotta say. It's not a good look on you, (Y/N)."

You just scoffed and shot him a look, "That's rich, coming from you, Mr. Preacher Man."

That drew a chuckle from the priest, who brought his arm around your shoulders and drew you in close to him, bringing a blush you hoped he wouldn't see to your cheeks.

"Seriously, (Y/N). What's on your mind?"

He spoke softer, his voice gentler than before. Wolfwood always surprised you with how kind he could be - you never anticipated it, for some reason. But right now, you didn't mind one bit. It felt nice, having just one person there with you right now, and Wolfwood seemed like the perfect person to talk to about your troubles.

"I just..." You sighed out, "I'm struggling to keep going on. Constantly being on the run is starting to drain me. I wish I could just... stay somewhere for a little. Forget about life for a moment. You know?"

Wolfwood was smiling down at you softly as you spoke, nodding his head in understanding, "Yeah, I get it. It's a lot. But you're strong, pretty lady. Don't doubt that for a second."

You felt your blush darkening as you looked away from him for a moment, quietly mumbling "Thanks, Wolfwood" in return.

Of course, though, Wolfwood noticed your blush and tilted your head towards him, his fingers under your jaw firm in their motion but somehow still gentle. You felt your heart rate hit the roof as you looked up at him - he was exceptionally handsome. You always knew as much, but now... it felt like you were really seeing him for the first time. His dark skin, his eyes, his curved nose, his muscled figure, his dark hair, everything was suddenly hitting you all at once and the thoughts going through your mind were bordering on unholy for being in such a holy place.

"Ya know... you're pretty much in confessional right now, pretty lady. Got any sins you wanna get off your chest?"

Wolfwood's tone was sultry and gently teasing, his dark eyes scanning your face for signs of a reaction to his comment. You, however, took this as a challenge and decided not to make it easy for him.

"My sins are all I have left in my life, Father," You replied, your own tone dropping and silky smooth as you answered, "I have nothing but my sins to hold onto."

You could see Wolfwood's face changing colour at your answer, and you could see him swallowing hard as he processed your tone and your words. You had succeeded in flustering the priest back just as he had flustered you, and a sense of pride swelled in your chest.

After a few moments, Wolfwood had recovered and immediately took it one step further, bringing his face down close to yours. So close that you could feel his breath fanning across your skin as he spoke.

"Then... why don't I give you something else to hold onto?"

Your eyes widened at what he was insinuating - he couldn't possibly be serious. Could he?

"My, my, Wolfwood... are you suggesting what I think you are? And in a church, no less?"

Your tone was teasing, but you genuinely wanted to know if Wolfwood was seriously asking you if you wanted to sleep with him in a church. You knew that if Wolfwood was even the slightest bit serious in his teasing, you would accept without hesitation. It had been forever since you'd had sex with anybody, and the last time it had been some random stranger in a one-night stand. But Wolfwood... that would be sex to remember.

Wolfwood grinned cheekily at you, bringing himself closer until his lips were mere centimeters away from yours, "What's the point of absolving people of sin if they have no sins to absolve, eh, pretty lady? Makes my job more interesting."

"Oh, so I'm just a job to you, then?" You snapped at him - there was no way you were gonna let him get away with this.

You weren't making it easy for him to get into your pants, regardless of how badly you wanted it. You stood up, scoffing as you walked past him and begun walking towards the alter of the church, pretending to be upset with him to get him riled up.

"Hey, wait, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That's not what I meant, I just-" Wolfwood was explaining as he followed you up to where you stood at the front of the church, "I just meant-"

You couldn't keep it in any longer, bursting into laughter at his attempts to fix the "damage" he had done. The look of confusion and disbelief on his face was worth it, causing you to laugh harder.

"Oh, Wolfwood! Your face!" You were laughing hysterically, almost doubling over from laughing as you heard him grumbling under his breath. Once you recovered from your laughing fit, you turned to Wolfwood and walked up to him, getting all up in his personal space the way he had done with you earlier.

"So... Father... you gonna punish me for my sins?"

Your tone was sultry and silky again, low and seductive as your breath ghosted over his skin. You could see the goosebumps raising across Wolfwood's skin at your words, and you knew then and there you had him hook, line and sinker.

Sure enough, without saying another word, Wolfwood was pressing you up against the wall near the alter of the church, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, messy, heated kiss. You could feel every muscled plane of Wolfwood's body pressing against yours, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you kissed him back hungrily.

"God..."

The whisper that escaped Wolfwood was breathless, as if the kiss and the taste and feeling of you had knocked the wind straight out of him. You just smirked up at him, panting slightly.

"I thought you weren't supposed to use the Lord's name in vain, Father."

The growl that left Wolfwood's throat was beyond primal, and you soon found yourself with his lips pressed against yours once more, his tongue soon exploring your mouth as yours explored his, relishing his taste and the feeling of him against you. His leg nudged yours apart, and you let out a stifled moan into his mouth as his thigh brushed against your clothed core, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"N-Nicholas," You moaned out, panting more heavily than before, struggling to find words as you felt his thigh continuing to brush against your core.

The smirk on Wolfwood's face was large, and it only grew as he brought his hand down to wrestle your pants off, revealing your underwear and the extremely noticeable wet spot forming on them from your arousal.

"Well, well, well, pretty lady," Wolfwood growled, "Seems somebody's enjoying herself."

"More," You moaned out, not caring of the location anymore - you wanted Wolfwood and you wanted him now, "More, Nicholas, please, more."

"Shhh, (Y/N). Don't you know patience is a virtue?" Wolfwood teased you gently, his fingers beginning to rub circles over your clit through your underwear, drawing more beautiful moans out of you.

"S-Sorry, Father," You replied, a small smile appearing on your lips as a groan escaped from Wolfwood as you spoke the word "Father" - it confirmed your suspicions that Wolfwood got turned on being called as such.

"Good girl," Wolfwood praised you, before kneeling down in front of you.

He slowly but surely pulled your underwear down and off of your body, before lifting one of your legs and letting it rest over his shoulder, raising your leg slightly and exposing your pussy to him, dripping wet from his touch and his taste and his words. The moan Wolfwood let out at the sight of your pussy had you blushing, and then you suddenly heard him mumbling something lowly. It took you a few moments to realize that he was praying.

"N-Nick?" You whined, shifting slightly as you desperately wanted him to touch you, even if only for half a second, but Wolfwood just continued praying until you were whining more and more. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard Wolfwood mumble "Amen", signaling he was done praying.

"What was that?" You asked, looking down at him, your face flushed red as you gazed at the man who was level with your pussy.

A devilishly charming smile appeared on his face as he replied simply, as if stating the most obvious thing in the world, "I was saying grace and giving thanks for the meal I'm about to have."

Your expression became one of confusion, but before you could understand what Wolfwood had meant, Wolfwood leaned forward and immediately begin to eat you out like a starved man.

You almost shrieked at how amazing it felt, your hands burying themselves in the priest's dark hair as he continued to lick your pussy, alternating between licking and sucking and fucking you with his tongue. You had all but lost the ability to form coherent words, the only thing leaving you being moans, high-pitched whines, whimpers and Wolfwood's name on repeat.

"God, (Y/N), you taste incredible," Wolfwood moaned into your pussy, causing your cheeks to heat up and a particularly loud moan to slip from your lips.

You couldn't say anything in response, only bucking your hips so that Wolfwood could fuck you with his tongue a bit deeper, and suck on your clit just a touch harder.

The pressure within you was building, the coil of pleasure tightening more and more until you were right near the edge. As if reading your body and your thoughts, Wolfwood continued to eat you out but then slipped one of his fingers into your pussy, causing you to cry out. The sudden intrusion was welcomed, with you bucking your hips more as you chased your high, moaning louder and louder. Then, to your surprise, you felt Wolfwood moving his finger within you in a "come-hither" motion, grazing over that spongy spot inside you perfectly until you cried out and the coil of pleasure suddenly snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves, over and over.

Wolfwood didn't move from your pussy, continuing to lick you and eat you out until you were completely down from your orgasm. When he finally withdrew, he was smirking widely, your slick all over his lips and chin, even as he pressed forward and kissed you, causing you to moan loudly as your tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. You don't know how, but this man, this priest, was making you feel better than anybody else ever had.

You simply continued to kiss Wolfwood passionately, your hands coming down to fumble with his belt, all but ripping it open and pulling his pants down enough so that you could palm his rock-hard cock. You gasped slightly at the feeling of Wolfwood, and you realized that this man was BIG. You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks turning a bright red as you spoke up softly.

"Nicholas, a-are you sure you're gonna... fit?"

The smile on Wolfwood's face was big, and you could hear him chuckle as he leaned in for another passionate kiss.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), I think we got you well prepared to take it."

With that, Wolfwood pressed you back into the wall, lifting your leg into the crook of his elbow, stretching you open a bit more so that he could glide his cock over your pussy, letting out a moan as he watched and felt his cock brush against your slick, soft skin. If it was up to him, Wolfwood would've already been fucking you hard. But he knew this was the first time you two were together like this, so he should play nice.

"God, I've wanted you for so long, sweetheart."

You almost missed his words, your eyes widening at the priest's confession, your mind wandering away from the feeling of his cock against your pussy for a moment as you processed that. You just smirked in reply.

"Well, now you have me. Make it good, Wolfwood, and I'll consider doing this with you again."

Not needing to be issued the challenge twice, Wolfwood immediately adjusted himself so that his cockhead caught on your entrance, and in one slow, steady thrust, sheathed himself completely within you.

The cry of his name that left your throat as he did so would forever be engraved in Wolfwood's mind, and it would be something he'd strive to hear again and again for every day for the rest of his life. The feeling of your warm, tight walls clenching down around him was SO much better than he'd envisioned all those times he'd touched himself to the thought of fucking you. This was incomparable.

"O-Oh, God, (Y/N)..."

The broken moan that slipped from Wolfwood's lips made you clench tighter around him, pulling another moan from him in return. He was already so stupidly close to cumming, it was unbelievable. Just the feeling of sliding into you and feeling you around him was enough to get him close to the edge.

On your end, the sting of the stretch of Wolfwood entering you surprised you, causing you to hiss a bit at the feeling - he really was big. You hadn't ever been stretched as much during sex as you were being right now, and it was enough for you to know that you'd definitely want to fuck Wolfwood again and again and again. He just made you feel so full. It was incredible, feeling him pressed up inside you, his cock pressing on all the right places just sitting within you, not even moving yet.

"I-" You hiccupped, trying hard to form words, "You can move, now."

Wolfwood was now the one unable to speak, taking a moment before nodding and pulling himself out of you slowly before thrusting back into you hard. Immediately you moaned, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him down so you could kiss him. You and Wolfwood were moaning into each other's mouths as he fucked you at the alter of the church, with you begging him to move faster, thrust harder as that familiar coil of pleasure began to build within you again, faster than ever before.

"F-Father, I- I'm gonna-" You stuttered, your voice high-pitched and breathless as all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you out over and over, brushing over that spot deep inside you that drove you closer and closer to the edge.

"Cum for me, (Y/N), cum for me," Wolfwood growled, his hands grabbing your ass with a grip tight enough that you were sure he'd bruise you and slamming your hips forward in time with his thrusts, somehow going even deeper than he was going before.

Just feeling him grip you and manhandle you like that and hearing him growl alongside all the other sensations raging through your body immediately brought you straight over the edge, you crying out Wolfwood's name over and over as you came again, clenching down on him harder than ever before, milking his cock as you came on him.

That feeling of you squeezing him harder, your walls fluttering on his cock brought Wolfwood to the brink in an instant, another broken moan escaping his lips as he thrusted into you a few final times, "I'm cumming, oh, God, (Y/N), I'm cumming!"

You felt Wolfwood thrust into you one final time, all the way to the hilt and a warm feeling bloomed within your abdomen, signaling that Wolfwood had made good on his promise, cumming deep inside you. Both of you were panting hard as he let your leg down, his cock slipping from within you, both of you letting out a moan as he did so.

"O-Oh, my God..." You panted, your legs shaking as you looked at the priest, your eyes shining from the afterglow of your orgasm, "Nicholas, th-that was amazing..."

Wolfwood simply grinned at you as if he hadn't just fucked you better than any other man had before, before pulling his pants back up and getting himself more cleaned up. As you went to put your underwear back on, Wolfwood reached out and slapped your wrist.

"Ah, ah, ah. Leave those off."

You just gave him a confused look as he began to walk towards the entrance of the church, calling out, "What, why? Wolfwood, I can't walk back to the inn with no underwear on."

The priest smirked as he answered, "Yes, you can. Because I hope to sin with you again tonight the minute we get back to the inn. What do you think about that?"

You let out a small laugh, your pussy clenching at the thought of Wolfwood fucking you again tonight, and you could feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to trickle down your thighs. Regardless, you began to follow Wolfwood out of the church, heading back to the inn.

"I think I'm gonna have to actually go to confessional after all this."

And you couldn't have been happier.

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun wolfwood #wolfwood #wolfwood smut #trigun wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x reader smut #nicholas d wolfwood smut #nicholas d wolfwood x reader

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respectthepetty · 9 months ago

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How does it feel to stay winning Petty? Also who would've guessed that baby Barcode would be the one of the BOC boys to collect kisses from all the homies!?

Anon, I appreciate you sending this because, right now, I feel like an elite status female rapper. Like CL from 2NE1 rapped in their 2011 hit, "I am the best", Be On Cloud owns me, and y'all can't tell me shit about this show.

I know I have some Wild Ass Theories and I'm always clownin' in these BL streets, but I love when my theories actually hit their target like . . .

When I knew Teacher Chadok was in a relationship with Teacher Dika since the first episode of The Eclipse.

When I knew Kanghan's house was going to be robbed and his dad would be shot since the third episode of Dangerous Romance, even though I thought Saifah would do it.

When I knew Pat was working with Joke to win over Zo since the first episode of Hidden Agenda.

I love making Wild Ass Theories no matter how crazy they are, like my belief that the twins' dad is involved in this whole murder and sex work plot in Playboyy. No matter what happened in this past episode, I still believe it and am eagerly awaiting the upcoming chaos to see how hard I clowned.

Which is why I LOVE Dead Friend Forever.

I want the record to state that no matter what happens after episode seven, that at this exact moment in time, I love this show. It makes me happy to be alive at the same time this is airing, and I'm not joking. I want to remember that at one point, this show was everything to me, and even if it goes down hill, it had all my attention in the first seven episodes. I want to appreciate it right now because regardless of what happens, it did everything right in the first half.

With the way some shows keep losing their footing in the end, sometimes we forget how good they were in the beginning, and the emo in me doesn't want to forget this feeling. Some of my favorite movies are Scream, Heathers, and Jawbreaker so this show has been giving me the explicitly queer version of kill your frenemies since the very first episode, and I love it.

My internal alarm went off the second Tee got upset that Phi was speaking to White in episode one, then the dark hand touched him making him enemy #1. I didn't like the way he told White he needed to obey him, and I feel like the dark hand wasn't too pleased with it either. It was a vibe.

And now Non has a hurt hand in the past from falling off the bike . . .

Then, Jin was the main character of the previous film, so he was either the killer or the biggest baddie.

But Phi was just so sus, that I clocked him as a killer.

Which meant Phi and Jin were the killers, but Tan has no backstory and people with no history are intentionally hiding it, so they can kill everyone and peace out.

So in my mind, Tan and Phi were regulated to the killers, Tee was the second to last to die, which I'm hoping it's by his boyfriend White who he thinks disobeys him, and the rest of the squad would die as needed. Which left Jin to be the baddie.

All of my theories could blow up at any second because we don't know if Jin actually sent that video or if his computer fizzled out before it finished uploading, so he could still be a killer avenging Non instead of a baddie who wronged Non (but he took the video and that is messed up regardless of what he planned to do with it).

But either way, I'm hoping it comes down to Phi and Jin in that forest because the show started with them.

And I don't think Jin realizes who Phi is to Non since Jin never got a good look at Phi's face in the past.

The Twitter folks spotted that Phi's dad was the police chief from the letters the boys got calling them in for interrogation in episode six.

And now the knife from episode two is showing up in the past in Non's backpack.

Up until this point, I feel the show has laid out a solid story with a good cast, and I think Be On Cloud relied on their KinnPorsche casting to throw people off in this show because who expected Us to be doomed in the first episode? That was like Drew Barrymore dying at the beginning of Scream.

People have felt off about JJ's character, but the show wouldn't really have JJ do anything bad to sweet Barcode, right?

And Barcode and Ta being paired together was a pipe dream for the Macau x Porchay shippers, so it could never happen here!

Especially because Ta and Copper won The Hidden Character, which meant they were going to be the main pair of this show, right?

WRONG!

Barcode is gonna be involved in some fucked up shit, and according to those MDL comments, people are realizing they messed up making any assumptions before this show started based on what the actors previously did.

I truly feel like BOC looked at its lineup and said "Baby Barcode was babygirled so hard for the past two years that the audience won't even think his character is capable of such things"

and I love that for us.

BOC gave these youngsters (19-23 in age) a script from Dr. Sammon and the Pit Babe writers and said "go HAM, bitches"

And the audience stays winning.

This isn't about my Wild Ass Theories coming true. This is an appreciation post for what this show has given to me up until this point - a good mystery.

Every week I have more questions and none of them feel like they will go unanswered. Is Non dead? Did Jin actually upload the video? Is Tan a killer? Why did Phi hook up with Jin? Will White finally snap, crackle, and pop like a bag of Rice Krispies treats for the mere fact that he simply wanted a nice weekend getaway with his boyfriend and now has to deal with all this bullshit?

But most importantly, when did Phi realize he was going to kill all of them after making them run around scared for their lives?

Because by time the show makes it back to the present day, I'm sure we're all going to want to watch these kids suffer in the worst ways possible.

Manipulate, Murder, Mayhem

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #I got wild theories for days #but all I know for sure is I love this show #please don't disappoint me show #you have all my attention #don't break my heart #phi has to be in on this #he must want revenge #and a confession #let me have this!

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futuregws · 4 months ago

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Tired of people expecting Rhaenyra A QUEEN and A RULER, to want to jump immediately to war as if she doesn't have the job of RULER and PROTECTOR OF THE REALM, to uphold, her being hesitant to go into war DOESN'T make her weak it makes her a good queen and ruler, bc the people that suffer the most during this wars are not them but the small folk and the people at the front fighting the war she fucking knows that why would she jump to that after so long of peace from her father's reign when she truly thought there might be other ways, now she sees there isn't and she was ready to go to battle herself it doesn't mean that she's any less angry she's controlling herself bc she has to, she has a job to do.

The fact that y'all will never be happy with any decision she makes is insane to me. And holding onto young Rhaenyra still like please move on there's no reason to like her more than the current Rhaenyra

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd #queen rhaenyra #hotd season 2 #emma d'arcy #milly alcock #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen

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moonlight-prose · 1 year ago

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FOR THE LOVE OF DANGER

╰┈➤ #01: ONE LAST TIME

a/n: so i finally FINALLY saw the movie and even though it's really late since it came out, i'm happy to write for him at last. this is partial brain rot and a partially thought out plot that has been in the works for months. i'd heard of spidey 2099 before, but never thought i'd fall in love with him to this extent. this fic was also supposed to come out last month, but i'm always behind on everything. so i hope y'all enjoy this wild ride.

note: a massive huge fucking THANK YOU to @soulores for being the best beta reader a girl could have. seriously i couldn't have finished this without you.

dedicated to: @sunflowersteves for listening to me rant about how pretty he is and for being the first person to ever hear about this plot. thank you for being one of the best person here babes.

summary: when things go awry in your life you find yourself back at el nido - a comfort spot in the darker parts of the city - in need of peace. only to run into him.

word count: 8.5k+ (somehow???)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, angst, alcohol consumption, one night stands, p in v sex, rough sex, cumeating if you squint, cumplay if you really really squint, my awful attempts at dirty talk, soft miguel, the start of chaos.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

NUEVA YORK 2099; EARTH-298

Let’s do this one last time.

My name is Miguel O’Hara… and I’m scared.

You couldn’t breathe, the speed of your heart rate nearly caused you to believe you were going into cardiac arrest. Some small part of your brain wanted to actually check. It wasn’t hard to simply waltz right into the nearest hospital. Although dealing with the disbelief on doctors and nurses faces as you asked them to check if you were dying pushed you away from the idea altogether.

Another day at a job that didn’t allow you to have anything, left you seeking out the only thing you knew would help. An old dive bar still resided in the lower part of the city—The Nest, or as the owner called it El Nido—as local folk often referred to it. Although you were more than happy to call it a safe haven.

Everything was so pristine where you worked, so perfect. But The Nest was simply a small hole in the wall that helped people find a spot to feel safe for an hour or two. You tended to avoid going there on weekdays, but seeing as how you were about to be fired from your job…you felt it was necessary.

Sighing, you hitched your bag up higher on your shoulder, the weariness from the day finally settling its weight over you. What you wouldn’t give to be asleep right now, curled up in bed. Except you couldn’t go home. Not when all that remained was the dreaded time spent waiting for tomorrow. The day they would more than likely—officially—ask you to leave.

“Sorry,” you muttered, accidentally slamming into a woman walking hand in hand with her partner. The man glared at you, the gaze enough for you to quicken your step towards your destination.

The smell of the bar was exactly the same. Ricky always loved incense, and while you claimed it would drive customers away, he somehow made it work. Letting out a calming breath, you headed right towards your stool at the bar. The worn in leather a comfort after sitting in a stiff backed office chair all day. It was partially ripped and practically ruined, but you could already feel the stress melt off your body.

“Mi florita!” Ricky shouted, handing off a drink to an older man with white hair.

“Hey Ricky��oof—” He leaned across the bar, dragged you closer, and planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His breath was tinged with cinnamon and a hint of mint—letting you know he’d been drinking his favorite tea all day.

Nonetheless you smiled at his kind gesture. Ricky was like the cousin you had never had, but always wanted. Standing at around six feet with tattoos going up and down his tanned arms and his hair chopped into a mess of wild curls, he was your favorite person. The one you always sought out in times of trouble, if anything just to laugh. Unfortunately he couldn’t say the same for you. He loved his boyfriend too much to put you higher up on the scale—or so he claimed.

“How’s the job?” He poured you a martini, extra dry, extra dirty. “Are you playing nice with all the fancy folk?”

You chuckled, taking a sip and letting the alcohol burn its way down. “The fancy folk are slowly driving me insane.”

“Uh oh.”

Another sip caused yet another part of your stress to fade. “I don’t understand why it’s so hard for them to give me the same leniency they offer to other employees.” You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “I mean it won’t matter anyways tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Ricky slid a drink to the person sitting a stool away from you, taking the small amount of cash he offered.

“The day I’m probably gonna get fired.”

“What?” he exclaimed, nearly causing the glass of whiskey in front of him to spill over.

You shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I can just…find a new place to work at. I mean there has to be other labs in need of a biochemist. Right?”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering to the bottle in his hands. “Florita…” Your stomach dropped, the severity of the situation finally dawning on you—turning your once rose hued glasses clear.

They were going to ask you to leave and because it was Alchemax, there was no other option but for you to beg for forgiveness. An act you had sworn to yourself that you’d never do. You were a good scientist. Hell you were the best in that fucking lab, yet they couldn’t see past the fact that you wanted to go your own way. To carve your own path in a company that was adamant on placing you in a box. Keeping you perfectly pristine for those on the outside—those that might wish to give you freedom.

Holding up your hand, you stopped him from saying anything else. If shit was meant to go sideways tomorrow, then so be it. You’d go out like a champion, worthy of whatever came next. Downing the remainder of your drink you slid the empty glass towards Ricky, nodding at him to fill it up. At least with that he didn’t hesitate, knowing you needed something to take the edge off—your night already taking a turn for the worst.

“Just gotta keep going,” you muttered, staring at the liquid in the hopes that it would magically fix everything.

“You got this chica.” Words that seemed empty at a time like this somehow brought a small smile to your lips.

Taking another sip you thanked him softly and watched him wander off to the other side of the bar, his eyes set on a group of men that were most likely there to buy out the bar. It happened every once in a while, but you couldn’t exactly fault them. They were here to have fun, to make an otherwise regular night memorable. They certainly weren’t here to wallow in their drinks, swallowing down their misery in the hopes of finding something good to take away.

“Shit,” you muttered when you came to the bottom of the glass again, your finger tracing the rim.

“Firing a biochemist is the stupidest thing a lab could do.”

You jumped when someone’s voice came from beside you—the man a stool away now focusing the entirety of his attention on you. Perhaps it was the vodka or the low neon lights of the bar, but you could have sworn his eyes were red. The color so striking it sent a chill down your spine—as if he was analyzing you with one simple glance. For a second you forgot he even said anything—too busy taking in his soft brown hair and strong jaw—until his lips quirked up into a grin.

One that made your heart flip in your chest, heat rising beneath your cheeks.

“Eavesdropping?” you inquired, gathering enough courage to confront him about his blatant behavior.

His lips pulled up on one side, something glimmering in his eyes that had you hooked the longer he looked at you. “Lo siento,” he said softly—his voice slightly mumbled. “Didn’t mean to. I just heard you talking about something that interests me.”

“Ah.” You glanced away to escape his penetrating stare, if for a chance to catch the breath in your lungs. “So you’re a scientist.”

Pride bloomed in your chest when he was caught off guard. His glass halfway to his mouth when the statement left your mouth. Once again that mysterious light flickered to life again, a soft chuckle leaving his lips and causing your heart to erratically beat in your chest. Taking a sip, he gently set the now empty glass back on the bar. The tension was so thick you swore you could slice it in half, heat spilling into your body.

“You’re observant.”

Shrugging, you took your own sip—the alcohol no longer burning your throat. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. What else from that conversation would interest you?”

“You.”

The words were out of his mouth before you could even finish the question, your breath catching at the sound of them. Your day had been shit. Enough to rival doomsday itself, but there you were sitting at a bar with him. A man who’s name you didn’t know. The smile spread across your lips before you could stop it, your eyes roving down his figure in an attempt to make him feel half of what he stirred in you.

“Let me buy you a drink?” you asked, pointing to his empty glass.

“I thought I was supposed to ask you that?”

Your smile widened. “Then ask me.”

For the second time that night he was caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly. The song behind you shifted, a low tune you could feel reverberating through you as he changed seats, taking the stool directly beside you. He moved silently, his thighs pressed tightly against yours as he got comfortable in the spot—his arm brushing yours.

The first thing you noticed was how warm he was—as if his body was a personal heater. But that was pushed out of your mind, replaced by the second thing. He looked at you clearly, hair falling onto his forehead slightly until you finally saw it. The actual color of his eyes. Crimson irises caught you in their hold, keeping you until he was satisfied—drinking you in, he trailed his gaze over the entirety of your body.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he murmured, his breath fanning across your face, body unconsciously leaning in.

You inhaled sharply, watching as his eyes lit up at your reaction to his proximity, his hand sliding closer until his fingers brushed against your wrist. Suddenly your shitty day was but a mere memory in the back of your mind. Entirely forgotten in favor of him. He was so large you swore he blocked everything else, filling your eyesight with nothing else but his frame. The breadth of his shoulders, the length of his torso and how he had to hunch over slightly to get close to you.

“What’s your name?” you inquired finally, your words breathy and dazed.

He grinned, hand curving around your wrist and pulling your hand towards him. “What’s yours?”

“I asked you first.”

Leaning in so close until you felt his chest brush your shoulder, his lips met your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Miguel,” he breathed, smiling at the way you practically melted into him.

For a brief moment you forgot you were sitting in the middle of a bar, people surrounding the two of you. When in fact it felt like nothing remained except you and him and the song playing behind you. Your exhale was shaky, representing the way you felt on the inside. As if he’d pulled you apart with a single word, his body heat affecting your brain—turning it to mush.

“Miguel…” Your hand curved around the front of his jacket, eyes meeting his as he moved, brushing his lips across your cheek.

“Hm?”

Something heady built in your chest, solidifying the truth you knew the second you started talking to him. You wouldn’t be leaving this bar alone. You simply hoped he was on the same page as you, but the way he hooked his arm around your waist, thighs bracketing your frame told you everything you needed to know. He was not only on the same page; he was flipping forward, reading a future that had yet to occur.

You almost wanted to ask him if he liked what he saw. If—by some odd chance—there was something more than this fiery electricity between the two of you.

“You still want that drink bebita?”

Words evaded you the longer he sat there, filling the space with nothing but him. How he smelled, how he sounded, fuck even the way his lips felt dragging against your skin as he spoke. You wanted to ask where he came from. How you’d never seen him in this bar before—your life now altered because of something so small. Simply a conversation. Yet now you couldn’t see yourself ending the night without him.

“No,” you sighed, shifting until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his. “You?”

He shook his head.

“I…” Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. “I don’t usually do this.”

Grinning, he raised your chin slightly with his knuckle, eyes catching you once more in their web, snaring you in a trap so saccharine you could taste it on your tongue. “Your pace.”

And with two simple words you were his. Captured happily in something you never wanted to be rid of. You smiled, your other hand sliding up into his hair, and finally the weight of your day lifted entirely off your shoulders. The question of whether or not he wanted to kiss you was on the tip of your tongue, but like before…he was miles ahead of you. With a small grin, he tipped your face towards his, catching your lips in a kiss you felt down to your fingertips.

He didn’t kiss you gently, languidly taking his time as if you were both here until the sun went up. No, that was nothing like what you expected. He devoured you. Stole every gasp, sound, and sigh you could have let out; his hand holding you exactly where he wanted you. Miguel kissed you like you were his only source of oxygen. And you let him. You bent to his will with ease, giving into every touch.

Whining softly, you tugged sharply on his hair when his tongue swept across your bottom lip. The taste of his drink now seeping into your mouth. You didn’t even question letting him in, desperate to know what he tasted like—what his tongue felt like licking deeply into you. Shivers ran down your spine when his hand gripped your hip tightly, pulling you closer until you sat on the very edge of the stool.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, pulling away and sliding his lips along your jaw.

“Oh…” Your breath was a sharp gasp when his fingers trailed down your throat, cupping it so quickly you could have sworn you imagined it. But the heat that spilled into your stomach told you otherwise.

His lips were heaven on your skin, nipping and licking until you were sure that certain spots would be tender tomorrow morning. You didn’t care. He could have sunk his teeth directly into your neck and you’d still ask for more. Somewhere in between talking and the tension, you lost any sense of worry. Those feelings went out the window the second he moved closer.

“I um—” Pushing at his chest, you reluctantly parted with the realization that you were still in public, and fucking against the bar would certainly make Ricky ban you for life. So he fell back, his lips swollen and spit slicked—pupils blown wide until the black began to bleed into the red. A swirl of brilliant color.

He smirked, taking in your disheveled appearance, all thanks to him. You had half a mind to drag him back to the bathroom, but the burning glare of Ricky was currently being seared into the side of your head. Without a doubt you knew it said: “You fuck in my bar you’re not coming back.” So you gathered whatever control you had over yourself and downed the remainder of your now tepid drink.

“My apartment is two blocks from here,” you began, exhaling a shaky breath as you finally took the leap for what you wanted. “We can be there in five minutes.”

Miguel nodded, yanking out his wallet and tossing down enough cash to cover not only his drinks, but yours as well. Which was your sign to grab your things. No words had to be said, because the intent was clear to the both of you. He was here to find the same relief you were—something to take his mind off of life for a little while.

Waving a quick goodbye towards Ricky, you followed Miguel out of the bar into the cool night air of the city. You were beneath the depths of the main part, where people didn’t necessarily travel to. But you’d grown up there. It remained a place where you still felt like you belonged. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. Not when the intentions for the night were clear to both of you. But that didn’t stop him from reaching down and slipping your hand into his, clasping your fingers together as you walked down the street.

Such a small act of tenderness—barely noticeable to anyone walking past—but meant so much more.

“What brought you to El Nido?” you asked, leading him down the street where your apartment building resided. It wasn’t a drastic question, but you couldn’t help your curiosity.

You were a scientist after all.

He shrugged, thumb running along your knuckles. “Needed a night out.”

“Let me guess…” You turned—walking backwards the best you could—regarding him with a suspicious expression. The small smile on his lips caused your heart to thump a little faster. “You’re getting fired tomorrow too?”

For the first time that night you heard him laugh. The sound, soft and low and by all means something you wanted to hear over and over again.

“No.” He took in a breath, his crimson eyes searching the dark streets for nothing in particular—the hair on the back of his neck suddenly standing up. “I’m…trying to figure out something.”

“A problem?”

He sighed. “You could say that.”

“Well I think—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, his arm jerking you forward until you fell into his chest, wrapped tightly to him as a horn echoed loudly behind you. A car sped past, turning rapidly onto the street and disappearing around the corner—leaving the both of you in silence. Your breath came in quickly, eyes wide as fear ran streaked your body, turning you cold. And Miguel watched after the car, his eyes narrowed and body tensed—as if he was ready to take off after them.

That is until he felt your hands press against his chest softly, drawing his attention back to you.

“T-Thank you,” you gasped, trying to calm the adrenaline that rushed through you.

There was no mistaking what would have happened if he hadn’t pulled you close; if his reflexes hadn’t kicked in so quickly. You wanted to ask him how he did it. How he knew the car was coming, but the words were trapped in the back of your throat. The shock had started to flood your system. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb running along your jaw in a soothing motion that seemed to slow the panic filtering through your body. You wondered if he even knew he was doing it—the touch yet another reflex to slow the racing of your heart.

To bring you back down to Earth.

“Okay?” he murmured, his eyes tracing the curve of your face, watching your eyelids flutter for a moment as you met his gaze once more.

You nodded, lightly gripping his wrist simply for the sake of comfort. “I’m okay.”

The night was no doubt effectively altered. Not necessarily ruined, but you couldn’t go on the way you were before. No teasing words, no light conversation. Instead you walked in silence. His hand clasped in yours and guard up in case of something else happening until you reached your place.

You were surprised to find that you enjoyed the silence while you walked. As if Miguel offered you a sense of safety and comfort you never had before; your body responding differently than you expected. Sure, you were attracted to him, but you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him when it came to this. To needing safety in the midst of possible danger.

“This is me,” you said, pulling out your key from your pocket—the hallway light dim and nearly extinguished. You had to remember to speak to the building manager about it tomorrow.

He grinned slightly, waiting patiently for the door to swing open with a soft creak as you entered. While you wouldn't call your small and rather overpriced apartment perfect, it felt more like a home than even he expected it to be. A small kitchen gave way into a bigger living room. Your record player was placed on top of an aged wooden table—piles of books stacked haphazardly through the place.

Miguel eyed the various plants you’d managed to keep alive—each of them pointed towards the one large window on the opposite wall. A place where sunlight no doubt streamed in on early mornings.

He originally believed it would look modern; more like the outside city and world as a whole. Yet your home resembled something old. A place that stood still against the ravages of time—as if it were merely a museum and he was there to admire its antiques.

“I know it’s not much.” You shifted a small pile of clean clothes off the chair, moving it towards an empty laundry basket in the hallway.

“It’s nice,” he said, and he actually meant it. “Es acogedor.”

You could see the truth in his eyes, the flicker of something familiar coming through the crimson. As if he’d known a life like this once. You wanted to ask him. See if he’d tell you more than just his name—perhaps why his eyes were that color—but you knew tonight wasn’t about making this more than it was. In reality you both needed this. No strings, no commitment. Merely two people looking to release themselves from the heaviness of the day.

He turned, catching you staring blatantly at him. “You want me to make you a drink?”

The question threw you off and your expression must have given you away—his lips curling into a grin. “I thought I was supposed to ask you that?”

Heat curled low in your stomach, spreading with every step he took until the tips of his shoes met yours. He bent down, hand curling around the nape of your neck, fingers digging in slightly. Chills spread down your spine, goosebumps rising along your arms, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this. To remain oblivious to everything happening around you.

Everything except him.

He brought his lips closer, his breath washing across your cheek. “So ask me,” he breathed.

“Do you want me to—”

Cutting you off he dragged you closer, practically hauling you up to his chest as his lips covered yours. It sent your mind reeling, your hands digging into his hair as if on instinct. As if you knew exactly what he wanted. As if…you’d done this before. Something intoxicating built up in your body, turning your brain foggy when his hands slid down, cupping your ass and dragging a moan from your throat.

He met your sound with one of his own—a ragged grunt that came from low in his chest. The echo of it reverberating through your body. You knew what this was. What it wouldn’t become. Yet you couldn’t stop the longing in your heart—the yearning that refused to be locked away in your mind. You wondered what it would be like if this was more. Would it always feel this…electric?

Something pulled you together and you couldn’t determine what it was. Except at that moment you couldn’t even determine your own name.

His tongue swept in your mouth, shoving all your thoughts aside and bringing forth something new. A feeling so strong you found yourself grasping for him tighter, pulling him closer as he licked deeply into you—tasting the alcohol on your tongue.

“Bedroom,” you gasped, yanking on the strands of his hair and earning another delicious grunt.

“Donde—”

“Down the hall.”

Stumbling back you felt his hand hitch your leg over his hip, nearly dragging you with him. Yet you could hardly complain. You were pretty sure that if he let you go you’d go falling to the ground from his touch alone. He moved your head where he wanted, lips slotting over yours and spit nearly trailing down your chin. A rush of slick poured into your panties, your nails scratching along his scalp as he nearly hit the wall, pressing you against it and hitching your other leg up.

“Fuck.”

You tried to tell him that you needed more, that you wanted him inside of you, but all that came out was a breathy moan. His hips grinded into yours, a soft moan being pressed to the shell of your ear, and that alone nudged you towards something earth-shattering.

His lips slid back along yours, hands grasping for any skin he could reach as you practically shoved your hips against his. The desperation practically seeped into the air—permeating your tongue with its cloying flavor. Words were exchanged for moans, tender moments now shifting into something quicker and faster. You wanted to feel him against you as fast as humanly possible, but Miguel was eager to remain here. Holding you up against the wall and kissing you until you ran out of oxygen.

“So I take it that’s a no on the drink?” you breathed, smiling at the small frustrated sound echoed in the back of his throat.

“Cállate,” he grunted, hiking you up and grinning at the yelp that was muffled into his mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt him begin to move—heading towards your bedroom. The door remained open from earlier and you thanked yourself for making sure to keep the place tidy before leaving for work today. Before you could detach yourself from him and lead him to your bed, he turned and sat down. Taking you with him until you were sprawled on his lap.

“Tú eres hermoso,” you mumbled against his lips, watching in delight as his expression shifted. Surprise spreading across his chiseled features.

“I’m supposed to say that to you,” he replied, a small grin playing on his lips.

You shrugged, pressing your lips to his jaw. “Guess we’re doing tonight backwards.”

He chuckled, sliding his hands beneath your shirt until it was clear that he wanted it off. You complied with ease. Allowing him to drop the fabric to the floor as his eyes fell to your chest, taking in the pretty lace of your bra. The crimson you’d come to admire darkened to something you’d call a burgundy—lust clouding his gaze. He wanted to take you apart. To see the inner workings of your body—your mind. Anything he could get his hands on. And you’d let him.

There was no doubt that Miguel had gotten beneath your skin in such a short amount of time. He filled your home with a feeling you hadn’t had before. Something tangible and real. Something you wanted to keep.

“Guapísima,” he murmured, hands cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over the spot where your nipples poked through the fabric. A soft jolt rolled down your spine at the feeling.

Warmth clung to your chest, filling you to the brim with a sensation you’d only had once before in your life. Only this was different. This didn’t feel new or like you were just discovering it. No, this felt familiar. As if it had been hiding away in your heart, biding its time until you crossed his path—until you found one another. You wanted to wrap yourself in it, sink into its comfort, and you wondered if he felt it too.

The strange way all of this felt right.

Like coming home after being away for so long.

“Miguel,” you gasped when his mouth trailed down to your chest. The heat of his lips sticking to your already burning skin—his tongue trailing along the tops of your breasts.

He pulled down the fabric, taking your nipple into his mouth—practically lighting up on the inside when you cried out softly. Your hand dug into his hair, tugging on the strands as he scraped his teeth against you. Drawing out every sound he could find hidden in the depths of your chest. Your hips ground against him, clit pulsing with a need that would only be satiated by his touch.

For a moment you worried that he wouldn’t continue his path. That he’d ignore the way you were practically panting for him—the pleas falling from your lips with ease. But then his hand dipped beneath your waistband, fingers trailing along the edge of your panties. Your eyes nearly rolled back, hips canting up as you tried to get him to go further—to release you of this agony. But he held still. Entirely focused on driving you to the very brink of insanity; continuing the path with his teeth and tongue along your chest until the skin was tender.

“Impatient are we?” he mused, nose brushing against your jaw—the grin prominent in his voice.

You huffed, gripping tightly onto his hair and dragging his head up. “A tease are we?”

A moan ripped from his throat, his hips jolting up into yours at the slight sting of pain that bloomed in his head. His eyes were heavy, mouth parted as he took in a deep breath, and you could have sworn that you’d never see a prettier sight again. He looked at you as one would a statue in a museum. Tracing the curves and dips of your body with eyes that resembled the color of blood. Eyes that would never leave your mind again.

His tongue swept across his bottom lip, teeth protruding outwards slightly and you had half a mind to ask him about it. To question how exactly he had fangs, but your desire won out on the logical part of your mind. Leaning forward you licked your tongue along them, feeling how he shivered beneath your touch—how his body sang a tune you could match.

“Careful,” he rumbled, his hand pressing against your back and bringing you even closer. “I might bite.”

You smiled, sliding your palms beneath the collar of his shirt, the hot skin beneath warming your cold fingers instantly. “Sounds like a promise to me.”

“I’m not good with promises.” He let you pull his shirt up, raising his arms and helping where you couldn’t reach.

Even you couldn’t deny there was something so domestic about this. How he carefully shifted you so that you were now pressed into the mattress. His large frame looming over you—hair falling into his eyes as he looked down. It felt natural; the fluid movements were almost instinctive. Like your bodies knew what to do before you could even comprehend anything happening. You wanted to blame the alcohol—or hell perhaps it was the lust that was making you slightly lose it—but you saw it beneath the surface of his slightly guarded expression.

He felt it too.

Perhaps even more.

“Come here,” you breathed, cupping the back of his neck and bringing his lips back where they belonged—where they felt the most right.

You felt his hands fall to the waistband of your pants, popping open the button and you were quick to raise your hips, helping him push them down. There was a swiftness to his movements. Like he knew what you wanted before you did—something telling him that you were ready to keep going. But that would be scientifically impossible. No one could predict things that way. Yet you couldn’t help but go back to the color of his eyes—the fangs that now scraped along your throat and down your shoulder.

He seemed to be a scientific marvel. Something unknown.

“Your tur—oh—” Your head fell back, lips falling open when his hand dipped even lower, fingers sliding into your soaked panties.

A groan echoed in the room, his lips finding yours again as he gathered the slick that pooled at your entrance and dragged it back to your clit. Setting a slow and maddening pace that had you grasping for his shoulders. Your nails pricked the skin so hard you knew there would be marks later. He pressed down, sparks scorching your body, and grinned at your reaction. How your eyes squeezed shut, leg kicking out and hips pushing into his hand.

“So wet for me.” He sunk one finger into you, tearing a whine from your throat.

“Mig—” The breath caught in your lungs. “I want—fuck—please…”

He shushed you gently, lips sliding against yours messily as he worked you open, slipping another finger into you with ease. “I know amorcito. I’ve gotta open you up for me.”

Something pulled at your stomach, tightening slowly as he continued to pump his fingers into you—the wet squelch of your slick echoing in the room. You knew you were dripping down his hand, that he was able to slip in a third finger as he went. But that didn’t mean he would stop. No Miguel had become hooked on the sounds coming from your lips—the moans that you didn’t try to stifle. He curled his fingers and struck against the spongy part of your walls that made you practically curl up into him.

A surprised cry fell from your lips, eyes flying open to see his lips curl into a small grin, before he doubled down. Shifting the angle, he made sure to press the pads of his fingers in the same spot each time, his thumb swiping along your clit. And you felt that building pressure shift. It clawed its way up your throat, settling in your chest as he murmured soft words of praise.

“Dámelo,” he breathed against your lips. “Give it to me bebita.”

As if your body was following his request, you shattered. A choked cry of his name was swallowed by his kiss, his tongue licking deeply into your mouth—fingers rapidly moving to prolong your pleasure. It was too much, yet not enough. The hunger—the desire—screamed in your chest, begging for him to keep going, for this to be more than just one night. Yet you couldn’t speak.

You gulped in air, legs shaking when the pleasure slowly began to fade into a slight pain. But Miguel wasn’t done. He was far from it. Your heart pounded in your chest when he slipped his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your release—the shiny stickiness on his palm letting you know how wet you really were.

“Sabes deliciosa,” he murmured, pressing his tongue back into your mouth and sharing the taste of you.

Your hand fell to his pants, pulling at the buckle of his belt as he shifted—making room between your legs to lay over you. His hand pressing into the mattress above your head. The all encompassing feeling of him surrounded you; pressed you into the small haven he created with his body. Keeping you from the rest of the world as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Your belt is being difficult,” you huffed, head falling back against the pillow.

He laughed, opening it with ease and effectively earning a glare from you.

Miguel had to admit there was an ease to being around you. The weight he usually felt hanging atop his shoulders had been lifted—his mind suddenly clearer and mood better. He wanted to figure out why that was, but you were looking at him with a gaze that caused his heart to stutter. The urge to remain close to you seemed to overtake every other thought that ran through his mind. He rid himself of his pants, helping you pull down the lacy fabric—his lips sliding along your inner calf as he did so.

The light touch of your palm grasping on his hand brought his gaze back up—your small smirk rendering him speechless. Miguel had only been this way a few times in his life. All instances he could count on one hand, but this—you—were bringing out an emotion he would have rather kept locked away. Nervousness.

Leaning up on your elbows, you met him halfway, your arm going around his shoulders as he leaned down to kiss you. It was by all means…sweet. The passion remained, lingering beneath the surface and searing through your veins, but something else took over. A feeling he wanted to keep.

“Since we’re doing this backwards,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his and cupping his cheek.

Locking your leg around his hip, you used the leverage of his surprise to send him into the mattress, your hands falling to his chest as you perched yourself in his lap. Your lips formed around a smile when he grunted. The feeling of your bare pussy now spread along his cock—your slick dripping down and coating his length—was divine.

“Mierda.” His hands grasped your hips, grinding you forward a bit until the head of cock brushed your clit, ripping a gasp from your chest.

“F-fuck—” Your head fell forward, teeth digging into your lip.

“You’re gonna fuck me amorcito?” he asked, a flash of something dangerous echoing in his eyes. “Gonna ride me?”

You nodded, mouth falling open when he pressed against your entrance. Whatever comment you had died in the back of your throat when he began to sink into you—a slight sting of pain streaking up your spine as you took him slowly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to open you up, but still it was a stretch. A soft whisper of praise echoed in your ear, his thumb circling your clit to counteract the pain. Even still you dug your nails into his chest, no doubt leaving marks that would bruise later on.

“You can take it,” he murmured, thumb curling around your chin. “You can take it like a good girl.”

A whine caught in your throat, your hips canting down with each small thrust until you were seated in his lap again. His cock filling you completely—the stuffed sensation nearly too much for you. Miguel leaned up, catching your lips in a soft kiss; giving you time to adjust. Yet you felt the sharp need of desire work its way through your body, begging for you to keep going, to take everything he would give you.

“How do you feel?” He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb, his other hand cupping your ass.

“F-Full,” you whimpered.

“Go ahead,” he said softly, allowing you to lift yourself off his cock slowly—slick coating him down to the coarse hair at his base.

The pace was lazy, barely even there, and he watched. His eyes tracked each movement you made, each time your hips shifted forward to change the angle. He burned the image of you fucking yourself on his cock into his brain—watching as you did exactly what you said you were going do. Ride him.

Scraping your nails down his stomach, you heard him groan, his hips thrusting up slightly and forcing a cry from your throat. You wanted more. Wanted to feel him fuck you into the mattress, but the familiar pressure was already forming again. Building in your stomach with each stunted thrust—the head of his cock brushing against the spot he’d found earlier.

“I’m—” Your head fell back, hips shifting forward to catch it perfectly—eyes squeezing shut. “‘M gonna—o-oh…”

“That’s it,” he rasped, guiding your hips and slamming you down onto him with a strength that made you sob, your hands grasping for any part of him you could reach. “Cum on my cock amorcito. Wanna see you—ah fuck—”

Your hips stuttered, eyes rolling back as the wave crashed over you, nearly pulling you under. A cry echoed in the room, your walls clamping down, and for a moment you felt nothing but bliss. You went blind with it, your body tipping forward into him as he continued to move you in short thrusts, dragging it on even more. Miguel grunted against your throat, sitting up fully and holding you close as you rode out your release, your body practically falling limp against him.

Eventually you felt yourself come back, your hands dragging through his hair as he placed kisses up and down your neck, arms tightening around you. Your legs barely worked, head still fuzzy with the intensity of your orgasm. But the desire still remained, stroking the fire slowly until it once again began to seep through your system. Warming your body.

He was still hard, throbbing against your fluttering walls. That alone caused you to moan softly, your hips shifting down and lips pressing against his jaw.

“You didn’t finish,” you murmured, nails scraping against the back of his neck. The small goosebumps that appeared had a lazy smile curling on your lips.

He ached for that sweet release, wanted to flip you over and chase it, but he didn’t want to leave. At least not yet. There was something about taking his time with you that called to the part of him that had always wanted more. A part he’d crushed over and over again. Claiming it wasn’t necessary. There was no room in his life for that irritating emotion people referred to as love—no space in his heart.

Until a space began to slowly open up. He could barely find it, barely even see the small gash you’d made in the armor around his heart. But he’d discover it eventually.

“I want to see you cum,” you said softly, eyes glimmering with need.

“Bebita—”

Licking along his bottom lip you felt his cock twitch, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass a little harder. “Want to feel it, Miguel. Need it.”

“Shit.” He felt the breath get punched from his lungs, your words sending a streak of heat down his spine. “Yeah? You want it that bad?”

You nodded, lifting yourself on shaky legs only to drop back down, impaling yourself on his cock. He spit out another broken curse, his head falling back briefly before you were tossed back—your body slamming against the mattress. You yelped, eyes going wide when he shifted over you, body covering yours in a way that had a haze settling in your mind. He grinned, fangs digging into his bottom lip as he spread your thighs—hooking them over his forearms and nearly bending you in half.

“All you had to do was ask,” he purred, guiding himself back into your dripping pussy and sinking in with ease.

Gasping, you clawed at his shoulders when he hit so much deeper, the angle changing everything. You wanted to shout his name, to tell him how good it felt, but he’d already started to pull back, shoving himself into you with a strength that sent you up the bed. A ragged sound was pulled from your chest, eyes rolling back when he brushed against that spot so much easier—grinding against it in a way that had your body going numb with pleasure.

“Look at you taking me so well,” he muttered, curling over your body and sending your knees up near your head.

“O-Oh…god!”

“Cosita linda.” His body was tense, teeth baring as he continued to pound into you at a pace that built your release so quick it burned through you. “Pretty fucking thing. Letting me fuck you like this. Perfecta—”

You cried out, nails breaking the skin of his back—leaving deep marks. Tears streamed down your temples, spit falling down your chin when he leaned in to kiss you. He was everywhere. His scent permeated your senses, taste now permanently etched on your tongue, and yet that still wasn’t enough. There was something about him that made you want to crack open your heart and give it to him. Offer yourself up entirely in the hopes he’d accept. He surrounded you, filled your entire being with nothing but him, and you loved it.

Your body went taut, eyes flying open to see him staring down where you were connected, how his cock disappeared into your leaking pussy.

He smiled, hands digging into your hips so tight it sparked a delicious pain when you sobbed incoherently. “I can feel you.” His breath stuttered when your walls clamped down—brows pulling tight and mouth falling open in a silent shout. “That’s it. C’mon—” He gasped, fingers falling to your aching clit and circling it quickly. “Cum on my fucking cock. Soak me.”

This time the release wasn’t built steadily to give you time to prepare. You could barely breathe, your lungs screaming for some small amount of air. Yet your body seemed to be solely focused on one thing. A broken shout of his name left your lips, echoing in the room, combining sinfully with the sound of skin against skin and your slick. His thumb found your clit, pinching it between his fingers and something in you broke.

It slammed into you unexpectedly, dragging out a loud keening wail—white flashing behind your tightly closed eyes as it rushed through you. Flooded every sense you had until all you could comprehend was him chasing his own release. He fucked into you with short stunted thrusts until he fell forward, his lips colliding with yours—a ragged cry being pressed into your mouth.

He spurted into your already dripping pussy, filling you deliciously and sending another flicker of warmth down to the tips of your fingers. His chest heaved, lips swollen and eyes dazed, and you wanted to solidify the sight in your mind. Except the reality of what this was would eventually come crashing back down. Reminding you that he was not yours to have. That you were simply two passing stars in a tangled web of this universe, meant to part ways.

He let your legs fall back to the bed, slipping out of you with a hiss before he flopped onto his back, dragging you with him. His cum dripped down your inner thigh, smearing against the skin. But for now you let it happen. Content to remain right there, feeling his chest rise and fall as he attempted to catch his breath. His fingers traced lightly along your spine, line after line until you realized what it was that he was drawing.

A web.

Or at least…that’s what it felt like.

“I don’t think I can move,” you mumbled, smiling into his skin when he laughed—the sound low and rough.

“That’s a good thing I hope,” he replied, glancing down at you—eyes tracing the curve of your hip and breast that pressed into his side.

You placed a kiss on his shoulder, hand splaying across his stomach. “Definitely.”

Silence enveloped the both of you like a comfortable blanket, filling the space with a soft feeling. It lulled you into a state of peace. Sleep nearly overtaking you. Yet you fought against it. Too busy taking in what he looked like—attempting to commit him to memory lest you never see him again. You wanted him burned into your brain, each memory tattooed into place permanently. But that’s not how life went.

This wasn’t a fairytale, and he wasn’t yours.

So you settled against his body, soaking in the warmth he emanated and allowed your eyes to flutter shut. His breath came in slower, arm curling around you as he fell asleep gradually—his heart a steady thrum in his chest. An echo that allowed sleep to drag you beneath the surface, giving way to something peaceful.

The loud angry beep of your alarm clock jolted you awake, your eyes flying open and body aching as you sat up quickly. There was a mess of blankets on your floor, obviously kicked off in the middle of the night. It seemed that with the heat of the outside world and his body, you were content to sleep with a thin sheet wrapped around you. Yet where you expected to find clothes left haphazardly around the room, you found nothing.

Your clothes that had been stripped off now lay in a pile on your chair, shoes placed by the end of your bed. Last night was clear to you now. The all consuming bliss, the way he had felt buried inside of you—how he had touched you. And while you understood it was merely a one night stand. You couldn’t stop the disappointment from seeping into your chest.

The sight of him completely erased from your apartment put a damper on an otherwise good morning.

Sighing, you swung yourself into a sitting position at the end of your bed. A throbbing headache began to spread along your skull. No doubt the cause of waking up too fast. Either that or the alcohol had actually decided to give you a bitch of a hangover. You’d have to figure that out later. The reminder of what the day held for you flickered bright and blaring in your mind—killing whatever joy you had left in your chest.

“Fuck,” you spit, dropping your head in your hands as you finally settled on one conclusion. You were about to be fired.

You had about an hour before you had to rush out the door. Giving you enough time to find out how to stop the delicious ache in between your thighs from going away. The echo of the outside world drifted up through your somehow open window and you raised your eyes, gazing at the spot where he had been only a few hours ago.

Only to catch sight of a glass of water placed on your nightstand—a ripped piece of paper beneath it. You practically lunged for it, hands carefully sliding the paper out and eyes tracing the messy scribble of what you assumed to be his writing. The message was short. Direct. It could barely even be considered sweet, but you saw the tenderness through the short sentence—the care in his action of leaving you with something to remember him by.

I had a lot of fun.

So we can do things the right way next time.

— Miguel

Beneath the message a phone number was scrawled, as if he’d been hesitant to even put it there in the first place. But it seemed that you weren’t the only one to feel that strange connection. That lingering sensation of familiarity whenever you thought about him. There was something to uncover between you. Perhaps the something more that you were aching for last night.

You had no clue.

Yet that didn’t stop you from grabbing your phone and inputting the numbers carefully. Glancing back at each one to make sure that the message wouldn’t disappear before your very eyes. You typed his name at the top, smiling at the contact before sticking a web right beside it. The memory of what he’d traced along your skin coming back to you.

A thrill of joy went through your body, lips pulling up into a wide smile as you pressed the button to send a text. While it may have been too soon—perhaps a bit fast if you were looking at it properly—the warmth in your chest won the battle in the end.

How could something that felt this right be messed up with speed?

How could it go wrong?

#miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #my writing

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keep-the-wolves-close · 7 months ago

Text

Steady Heart

Chapter 39: Black Sky

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, angst, suicide, Malcolm Beck, injured character, character death, violence

* Word count: 6,110ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: Here we are folks! Season 2’s finale! I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! Thank you for sticking around this long, and I hope you continue to follow along with the story as we head through onto season 3!

Gonna take a little break to get season 3 and season 4 worked on some more, so bear with me!

It was still early in the morning of the second day after his son was kidnapped and his best friend landed in the hospital. Kayce had barely slept. His father was meeting with the sheriff this morning. There was nothing more they could do until Donnie cleared the way.

Kayce chewed his bottom lip as he stared off into nothing. His son was kidnapped and god knows where and his best friend was laid up in the hospital unconscious potentially never to wake up, all because he let himself be convinced to leave the ranch. He knew he should have been there. He knew it might have made a difference, but the opportunity had passed him. Now they had to defend their home and right the wrongs that had been done to them.

He could hear Stella’s voice in his head. ‘We can’t be soft defending it.’ Being soft was exactly what they weren’t going to do. If he knew her like he thought he did, she’d be practically begging to blow them and everyone involved to pieces on main street for everyone to see so that the message was received.

Kayce’s stomach clenched again at the thought of losing both his son and Stella. Monica’s soft voice came from behind him. “Have you heard anything about Stella?” Even though she was fairly certain about the relationship between her almost ex-husband and his best friend now, Monica didn’t think Stella deserved to be in the current situation she was in. Especially since it was because she tried to save their son.

Kayce wiped his hand along his clenched jaw. He hadn’t heard anything from Ryan or Colby since yesterday. The last they had told Kayce, the doctors said Stella had covered her face just barely good enough. She had some broken ribs, one hell of a concussion. There would be a gnarly scar along her face once it healed. He assumed she was still unconscious. Kayce was surprised the kick that caused the gash didn’t fracture her skull. She was lucky it wasn’t worse than that.

He absently shook his head. “Nothing new. Still unconscious I’m guessing.”

“Can we go see her?” Monica hoped Stella would wake up.

“We have to get Tate back. It — it wasn’t — supposed to be this way.”

“Your father is gonna take a while talking to the sheriff. Let’s go see her. If she’s in this predicament because she tried to protect our son, it’s the least we can do.” Monica turned to look at Kayce. “Ryan and Colby shouldn’t be alone.”

Ryan’s leg bounced continuously and he chewed on the side of his thumb. He numbly stared at his sister lying in the hospital bed. He was terrified that she wouldn’t wake up. The doctors and nurses had tried to convince him that her body was trying to heal itself. That she will wake up when she’s ready.

Aside from the bruised and swollen face, she looked peaceful. Ryan couldn’t understand any of this. He could, but the extremes threw him down into a spiral. He prayed to whatever god would listen. His mind was taken over and he was reminded of when their dad was in the hospital. He felt as helpless now as he had then. There was nothing he could do. ‘Except make sure those motherfuckers pay.’

A light knock behind him brought his and Colby’s attention to the door. It was Kayce and Monica. He breathed out loudly and his shoulders dropped. Ryan waved them into the room, standing.

Monica caught sight of Stella and gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to believe it was real. “Oh, Stella.” She whispered. “Ryan, I'm so sorry.” Monica pulled Ryan into a tight hug.

Ryan leaned into her grasp for a moment, and tried to keep himself from crying. He didn’t know what to say. At this point, he didn’t think there was anything he could say.

Kayce stopped moving the second he could see Stella lying there. His heart was in his throat and his palms went clammy. “This was a bad idea.” Colby stood and placed his hand on Kayce’s shoulder to keep him from running.

“It’s gonna be okay, man,” Colby gave Kayce’s shoulder a squeeze, “from what I can tell, it looks worse than what it actually is.”

Ryan let Monica go and said to Kayce. “Every single one of those sons of bitches are gonna pay, Kayce. For Stella and for Tate.”

Monica stepped up to Stella’s side. She prayed silently. She knew Stella could pull through. Monica knew that Stella was strong and hard-headed. Just like Kayce. However, this time around she needed some help. Kayce stood there speechless, trying to catch his breath. Monica prompted him softly, “You can come over here, you know. It won’t hurt her.”

Colby gently tapped Kayce’s arm to try and spur him into motion. A look passed between the three men. It was a glance of retribution promised, but sorrow, and understanding. Both of the most important people to the men were hanging in the balance, and there wasn’t much they could do for either of them. Kayce’s steps faltered. If he went over and touched her, it would make it real. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle that.

Monica was reminded of when she was in the hospital from the distressed look on Kayce’s face. She waved him over. She would at least give him some comfort, disregarding the split between them. He made it to the end of what felt like the longest walk in his life even though in reality it was only a few feet. Monica switched spots so Kayce could be closer to Stella. She placed her hand on his back, letting him know the support was there.

Kayce felt his eyes sting, and his breath got caught in his throat. He choked on his own air. He leaned down and kissed Stella’s forehead gently. He whispered to her, “we’re going to get everyone single one of the sons a bitches who did this to you. I promise you that, sugar. None of them will walk out alive.” A few tears dropped from his eyes, landing on Stella’s face. Kayce lifted his hand and gently wiped them away.

Ryan watched the scene in front of him and felt his heart crack even more. Before he could get too deep, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Need you back at the ranch. A text from Rip read.

“Kayce, they need us back. I’m going to check in with the doctor and then I’ll be right behind you.” Ryan directed. He looked to his best friend. “Colby, can you stay with her so I know she’s safe?”

“Of course, man.” Colby patted Ryan’s shoulder. “If anything changes I’ll let you know.”

Monica gave Stella one last look and prayer as all three of them rushed out of the room. Kayce couldn’t bring himself to look back.

“Ryan, you take Monica with you. There’s a stop I gotta make on the way.”

“Kayce!” Monica called out. He snapped his head in her direction. She waved him closer. “I will not face this world without our son. You make sure you kill them,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry about that, Monica. If he doesn’t, I sure as shit will.” Ryan interjected.

••

Kayce pulled up to the M/T Beck Ranch to where Donnie’s deputies stood guard. He rolled the window down and the deputy closest to him stepped forward. He leaned out the window and asked, “how many in the house?”

The deputy shrugged. “Just him. As far as we know.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I need to see the warrant.” Kayce pulled the paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and held it up to the officer.

The deputy nodded. “Alright.” His boots crunched in the gravel as he turned on his heel and sat down in his patrol car. The other deputy followed his lead. The car started and they pulled away without any further question, leaving Kayce to do as he pleased.

He pulled into the drive, just far enough that he could remain undetected, but close enough that he didn’t have to run a mile to get to the house.

He ran up to the front doors crouched, and gently opened the first set. They squealed loudly in protest and he winced at the disruption of the silence. When no one came to look, he continued through the second set of doors.

He looked in the living room and didn’t see anyone. Panning around the room, he saw a hallway to the back right. Making his way through the mouth of the hallway, he looked through each of the rooms as he passed them by, finding no one.

He continued pushing toward the back of the house. He came to a set of stairs. He looked down then first, but running water caught his attention from upstairs. He raised his pistol to aim ahead of him and traveled up the stairs. He climbed slowly and grimaced when he reached the top as the floor creaked beneath his weight. He banked on the fact the running water would drown out his extraneous noise.

Moving further down the hallway, he could see a bathroom sink at the end. The water was indeed running, and the sound of paper rustling grabbed his ears. He strode up to the doorway and spotted Malcolm’s brother Teal sitting on the toilet. He lifted his pistol with surefire accuracy and popped off three rounds in Teal’s gut before he barely registered someone was there.

Teal slumped forward and groaned in agony, holding his hand to his stomach. Kayce kneeled down onto the balls of his feet, his face flat but pleased. Teal sputtered in fear seeing Kayce’s resolute face. “Where’s my son? Where is he?”

Teal tried to catch his breath. “I don’t know,” he growled out. Kayce shot him in the calf without blinking.

Teal screamed in pain. “Stop! Stop!”

“There’s a lot of stuff I can shoot before you die.”

“The — Montana Free Militia. They’re who we used. They got him.”

“Where do they camp?”

Teal huffed and puffed. “Base of the Crazies. The Crazy — the Crazy Mountains.”

Kayce’s face hardened. “You ever been up there?”

“Yeah. Up 284. Just before Diamond City. There’s a,” Teal started to cry, “there’s a little beat up house,” Kayce made peace silently with what he was about to do after he got everything he needed from Teal. “Behind a bunch of junkers.”

Teal leaned forward and moaned. “Oh fuck. I’m shot to shit.”

Kayce remembered Stella’s words about not being soft defending the ranch and the family that stood behind it. “Don’t you know about my family?” His face scrunched in disappointment. People really had thought they’d gotten soft. “You didn’t think we’d fight back?”

Teal was crying. “No. Nobody ever fights back.”

“Until now.” Kayce raised his pistol.

“No, please. Please.” Teal begged. “Not on the toilet. I don’t wanna die on a fuckin’ toilet.”

Kayce’s face softened briefly. “I promised the mother of my son, and my girlfriend’s brother, I’d kill you. All a man has is his word.” He squeezed the trigger and the kill shot knocked Teal back against the back of the toilet.

Kayce took a different gun, and angled himself as if Teal was shooting back. He rubbed Teal’s hand all over the grip, getting his blood on it, then placed it on the ground just beneath his hand.

He stood and went back the way he came in. He pulled out his cell and called his dad.

••

Ryan was sitting on the porch with Jamie and Beth. They’d wanted as much of an update as he could give them. “She’s got some broken ribs, a concussion, wicked slash across her eye, and she’s unconscious.”

Jamie sighed loudly. “Shit. I’m sorry Ryan.” Stella wouldn’t be in this mess if she hadn’t been trying to protect his family member. She shouldn’t have been there at all. He wished he would have heard something, if she’d called for them.

“She’ll wake up, Ryan. If there’s anything I know about her, it’s that she’s spiteful. She’s not gonna let some pussy of a man who comes to kidnap a child in the cover of nightfall take her out.” Jamie and Ryan stared at Beth for a moment. The softness from her shocked both of them.

John came out of the house on the phone and made his way down to the grass determined. “Okay, good.” John took a breath. “You’re okay though, right?” He visibly relaxed at whatever answer he’d been given. “Thank god. Come home.”

The trio scrambled off the porch to catch up with the leader. Beth asked gently, “what did he say?”

John reached into his vest and pulled out a letter. “You need to make an amendment to the trust, Beth.” He leaned closer to give her the letter. “Read this. Then do what it asks.” He grabbed her shoulder. “I know who loves me.” He glanced at Ryan. “I know who’s loyal,” and then back at his daughter. “I always have.” He walked back into the house to get ready for the fight that was about to take place. Not only for his grandson, but the revenge for one of his employees.

Beth opened the letter and skimmed over it quickly.

Jamie watched Beth closely. “What does it say?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.” She headed off to do what her father asked. She needed to go see Rip.

“I’m gonna go down to the bunkhouse to get ready. We’re moving on them tonight.” Ryan departed as well leaving Jamie standing there dumbfounded.

John stalked back out of his house toward Kayce and Jamie standing in the driveway. A large SUV pulled up the drive fast, and out came Mo, Chief Rainwater’s head of security. He shut the door and made his way around and said, “I was sent here to help.”

John went into the red shed next to the house and grabbed a bullet proof vest. He turned and gave Kayce directions. “Go get Rip when he’s done with Beth.” Before Kayce could object John said, “I can’t risk you, son.”

Kayce marched up the hill that led to the new cabin Rip had been gifted. Beth had walked by him, letting him know where to find the man in question. Rip was sitting on the steps to the house. “Whattaya know Kace?”

“Stella’s torn up. Still unconscious. Tate’s with a militia. In the Crazies.” He shook his head. “We don’t have any time.”

“How can I help?”

“It’s a big ask,” he adjusted his ball cap, “can’t attack a fortified position without knowing the strength of our enemy. In Afghanistan, we’d send an armored vehicle into ambushes. Draw fire to know how many we were fightin’.” Rip nodded and Kayce rubbed the side of his face. “We don’t have any armored vehicles. I’d do it myself, but,” he stopped himself. He hated that he was even asking something like this of Rip.

“I know. I’ll draw your fire.” Rip rose off the steps with a groan. He began his march back to the barn with Kayce trailing behind him.

••

Ryan, Kayce, Mo, and Handon pulled up in the cover of darkness to the little busted up shack Teal had told Kayce about. Rip and John pulled up behind them with a horse trailer. The three men got out of the truck and put eye black on their faces to make themselves harder to see. Rip and John jumped out and started to pull their horses out of the trailer.

Kayce put on his gloves and surveyed the surrounding area with Mo standing next to him. Handon made sure his sights were good. Ryan reined in his anger and held it for when he got the chance to take the motherfuckers who hurt his sister to meet their maker. Rip walked up with his horse.

Kayce asked Mo, “you want a rifle?”

“I’m best with my pistol.”

“Pistol won’t pierce armor.”

“I won’t be aiming at their chest.” Mo looked at Kayce. He fully turned to Kayce, taking in his camouflaged face. “Got anymore of that?” Kayce handed the eye black over to him.

Mo walked over to Rip and Dude. He looked at Rip and got his approval to bless the horse for the hell they were about to go through. He traced a circle around Dude’s right eye. “So he sees danger.” He drew some more sigils on his neck. “So he is sure-footed.” He made his way to the gelding’s shoulder. “So the bullets bounce off.” He finished by drawing some on the horse’s hind quarter. “So he moves fast.”

Rip tried to lighten the mood the only way he knew how, hearing Stella’s voice in his head making a joke. “You sure you don’t wanna draw on me some?”

Mo chuckled. “Won’t work on you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Mo walked away and Rip took a second to say whatever kind of prayer he could muster up.

John and Rip mounted their horses and trotted over to the rest of the group. John fixed his collar. “You know, of all the days to ask this of you, I’m sorry it’s today.”

“I can’t think of a better day for it, sir.” They shared a look. Rip nodded.

“I’ll be coverin’ you on your right.”

“Yessir.”

John took off to swing around on Rip’s right side. Kayce waved everyone forward. “Let’s get in place.”

Handon stopped next to him. “You think they got night vision?”

“Yeah, and thermal. You can bet on it.”

Ryan, Handon, and Mo moved forward to take cover behind some rubble that laid in front of them. They needed to be able to see where the fire was coming from and how many shooters there were.

Rip leaned back and took in the sky one more time in the moment of peace before all hell broke loose. He thought of Beth. Of Stella. “I love you.” He spurred Dude into action. He was ready to cause a ruckus.

As soon as he galloped by a small building on his right, shots started flying through the air. All of the ground men rushed behind him.

Kayce yelled out, running forward, “Livestock Police! Drop your weapons!” They dropped several men and took cover in between reloading time.

Rip pulled Dude to a stop. John cantered up to his side and hollered. “Livestock Police! Drop your weapons!” John raised his rifle and took out another one of the militia members.

Rip climbed down off his gelding, taking deadly aim and took out another. John slid out of his saddle to join him. Handon placed one of the men in cuffs.

Kayce, Ryan, and Mo came to the actual house the militia were staying in and surrounded it. Handon and Ryan took the back. Mo and Kayce took the front.

Kayce opened the front door and ducked back quickly. A few shots rang out from behind the door and while the man was reloading, Kayce and Mo took their chance to charge inside.

Each of the four took to clearing the house. Checking every room they passed by for Kayce’s son. The foursome came to a back room and there were three people left. Ryan and Handon got two of the people in cuffs. One sat in almost a meditative position.

Kayce had his rifle aimed at the man on the ground. He checked the room off to his right and went back to the man on the ground. “Where’s my son?” The man just stared blankly at Kayce. “Do you know, where my son is?”

The man scoffed. “I sure do.” He placed a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger before anyone could stop him.

“No!” Kayce screamed. “Fuck!”

Back outside, John had just finished tying up one of the militia men that was still alive and he heard footsteps through the grass behind him. He grabbed his rifle and yelled, “hey! Stop!” He followed after the man running away.

The man that was running, turned and took a few poorly aimed shots at John, but John stopped him assertively with a round of his own. The man dropped to the ground. John stormed over to him, and he rose from the ground and took another shot at the patriarch. John squeezed the trigger again, hitting the man and making him fly back onto the ground.

He groaned in pain as John stepped closer to him. When John was almost on top of him, he realized it was Malcolm. Unbeknownst to John, the group he’d brought with him stood by the fence and watched as he stepped up to Malcolm.

“You deserve a lot worse than this.”

Malcolm rolled over to grab his gun, but John aimed his rifle and shot Malcolm’s arm. “Ah god! Fucking cocksucker!” He cried.

“There ya go. Get it all out you son of a bitch.” John retrieved Malcom’s weapon. “Now tell me where my grandson is, and I’ll getcha to a hospital.” He kicked Malcolm over. “You have my word.” Malcolm laid there crying. “Go on, scream. Scream till whatever makes you want to hurt a child, my daughter, my horse trainer to hurt me leaves you.” Malcolm rolled back over onto his back. “If there’s a heaven, and I sure hope so, this is your last chance to do something that just might get you in it.”

John sat down next the injured man and Malcolm spluttered. “You know, I think a lot about the ten-or-so years I’ve got left before there’s not much left for me to but sit around and reminisce. You on the other hand, have to cram a lifetime of reminiscing into the next thirty minutes or so. Or you could lay there, and not telling me where he is will be your last thought.”

Malcolm wheezed and John looked him over. He thought of his daughter and the atrocity of what Malcolm’s hired men put her through. “Not whoever you may have loved, or your brother’s ninth birthday. None of that shit. Your entire lifetime’s gonna be reduced to my grandson’s face. It’s up to you, Malcom.” The thought of Stella, beaten and bloodied, laid up in the hospital unconscious, for trying to protect his family. Doing the job he had asked her to do. ‘Until my dying breath, sir,’ whispered through his head and he shuddered. He prayed with everything in him that it hadn’t been her last breath.

Ryan and Kayce watched on as Malcolm twitched, trying to catch his breath. Ryan looked back at Kayce. “What’s he doin’?” Kayce shook his head and they both observed the moment before them.

John looked up at the sky while Malcolm sputtered some more. “That’s Jupiter up there, the bright one.” He shifted his focus back to the ailing man on the ground next to him. “Did you know that?”

Malcolm’s chest started to rattle. “Carter Meads. That’s his name. Whitefish, Montana.” He struggled to breathe as deeply as he could. “Whitefish, Montana.”

“I’ll call for a chopper. Get you to the hospital.”

“I ain’t gonna make it to a hospital.”

“Yeah well, I gave you my word.”

“I won’t hold you to it.”

“You want company or do you wanna be alone?”

“Alone.” Malcolm ground out. “I wi— wish we’d never met.”

“Yeah,” John laughed darkly, “I bet you do.” John made his way back to his men.

••

As the sun rose over the mountains in Whitefish, Montana, Sheriff Haskell’s truck and a squad car rounded the corner on the house where Carter Meads lived with their lights on. Kayce, Ryan, and Handon covered their backs down the hill from up top.

Donnie and his team loaded up on the porch, ready to ram their way in. They busted the door open and everyone filed in. They took out a few people in the front part of the house.

Going toward the back Kayce called out for his son. “Tate!” Ryan, Handon and himself made their way up the stairs.

Donnie had already made his way upstairs and opened a door in the back and immediately turned back to stop Kayce. “Kace! I need you to step back!” Ryan pushed forward. Handon held Kayce back as best he could. Donnie asked Kayce, “give my guys a minute. You don’t wanna see him like this.”

Kayce started to grapple against everyone in his way. Ryan was their last defense. Kayce busted through him yelling, “see him like what?!”

He broke through the wall of men and into the bathroom where his son was. Tate shrieked and he got up close to him, catching his focus and letting him know he was safe.

Donnie stepped up to the door and told Kayce, “we’ve got a trauma specialist on the way.”

Kayce hugged Tate and the boy finally calmed down long enough that Kayce was able to get him outside and into the truck.

The drive home was quiet. Ryan knew that everyone who had hurt his sister and kidnapped his friend’s boy was dead. A weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that everything had to look up from here. Now he just needed his little sister to wake up.

A small voice from Kayce lap startled everyone. “Aunt Stella tried to save me and they hurt her. Is she okay?”

Ryan’s heart shattered completely. They all knew Stella’s beating had to have been because she tried to stop the men. He kept the tears at bay long enough to look at Tate, who was hiding in between his father’s arms. “Yeah, buddy. She’s okay. And she’s gonna be real glad we got you back.”

Ryan, Rip, and Lloyd walked through the hospital entrance. Everything at the ranch was taken care of for the time being. Tate was home safe. Traumatized, but safe. Stella was safe, but Ryan didn’t know when she would wake up. If she would wake up. Ryan was thankful the other two came with him. He was grateful Colby was still here. That helped him shake the heebie jeebies off.

The men came up on Stella’s room. They braved themselves and entered. There were whispered curses from Rip and Lloyd. A nurse just finished taking her vitals. She smiled at the men, trying to bring some cheer to them.

“Her vitals are super strong, gentlemen. She wants to be here. She’s just gotta wake up.” She patted Ryan on the shoulder making her way out the door.

Ryan could do nothing but stand there and watch the love everyone had for his sister. Colby came to stand with him. It was at that moment that he knew they were with the right people. He leaned a shoulder on the wall to let Rip and Lloyd have a moment with her.

Lloyd walked up to her bedside. “Little bit,” Lloyd mourned. He reached out to grab her hand. “Those evil people are taken care of. Your brother and Kayce led the charge. You can come back to us now. Please.” He pleaded.

Rip joined Lloyd at Stella’s other side. He placed his hand on the top of her head after he removed his sunglasses. “Shit, Stella-belle,” he sniffled, “this isn’t the kind of trouble you were supposed to be gettin’ yourself into.”

Ryan moved into the room and took a seat next to his sister’s bed. He glanced up at Colby, “so what have they said while we were gone?”

Colby crossed his arms. “Basically what the nurse said before she left. Her vitals have been strong this entire time. Her bloodwork came back great. Her MRI came back with some swelling in her brain, but with the head trauma that’s to be expected.” Rip and Lloyd grumbled. “They have her on meds to help keep the swelling down. Her X-rays showed a few broken ribs, but thankfully nothing was punctured. She’s just gotta wake up.”

It was somber in the room for a few minutes. Lloyd sat next to Ryan. Rip still stood guard at her bedside holding onto her hand. Colby left to get them coffee and give them time to stand vigil.

Stella’s breathing picked up. Her legs started to rutch around like she was uncomfortable. Her hand squeezed Rip’s. Rip watched her intently. A scratchy mumble of, “it’s still better than meth,” uttered from Stella who kept her eyes closed.

Ryan jumped out of his skin and the chair. Lloyd quickly made it to the door, calling for a nurse or a doctor. Anybody.

Once Kayce was sure Tate was sound asleep he quietly told Monica he was going to go check on Stella. She wanted to object, but understood. They hadn’t heard anything from the three who went to visit her in a while.

“Just make sure to come back in case he wakes up,” she spoke softly to Kayce. He agreed and made his way downstairs.

John called out from his office. “Where are you going?”

“To check on Stella.”

“Kayce?” His father called his attention.

Kayce poked his head in through the door finally. His dad looked focused out the window, but worried nonetheless. Kayce supposed there were a lot of things he had to be worried about right now. “Yeah, dad?”

“I’m coming with you.”

John left no room for discussion. He stood, striding past his son. Kayce fell in line behind his dad. He wasn’t sure how to take this kind of response from him about Stella. In the past John would have asked for a report back on her. This time however, he was coming along. John knew it his fault she was in this mess to begin with.

Coming out of Stella’s room was a group of nurses. Kayce thought the worst. He stood outside the door, scared to enter. His heart dropped into the floor. Terrified of what he would find. John waited with him, uncharacteristically patient. The doctor walked out, almost running into them.

“Oh sorry! You picked the perfect time to visit, gentlemen. Go on in.” The doctor whisked off down the hallway.

Going in, Kayce could see Rip smiling. His shoulders relaxed seeing his gruff lead wrangler in a good mood. The two made eye contact and Rip motioned at Kayce and John to the others. When they rounded the corner, Kayce’s eyes casted to Stella first. There she was, sitting propped upright. Not as swollen, but still bruised. The gouge over her right eye most likely held together with liquid stitches was red and angry.

Her brown eyes peeked at him. She smiled shyly. Almost embarrassed to be seen so vulnerable. “Hey, cowboy. John.”

Kayce rushed past everyone to get to her. He leaned down and softly hugged her neck. Placing a hand on the back of her head, he kissed her on the top of her head and breathed deeply. “Jesus. Don’t you ever do that to me again, you hear me?”

“I thought I saw a few more greys on you.”

John, Rip, Lloyd, Colby and Ryan decided now was the time to give them a minute and backed out of the room to the hallway.

“I brought you somethin’.” Kayce said. He reached into his jacket pocket.

“Oh?” Stella questioned, trying her damndest to not raise her eyebrows.

Kayce pulled his hand out, surprising her with her spare pair of glasses.

“Oh my god you’re an angel! I’m tired of squintin’ at shit.” Slowly she placed her hand out to recieve them. Once she had them on and could see him clearly, she cleared her throat. The scratchiness hadn’t left yet. “You found Tate, right?”

“Yes we did. Your brother and I made sure we made a point to every single one of them.”

Emotion bubbled up in her throat. “Kayce, I tried to stop them. I really did.”

“We know Stella. Tate told us. I couldn’t be more thankful for you. What you tried to do for him.”

“I’m so glad you found him. I didn’t know he would see them attack me and come back. He must get that from someone else I know.” She paused to look at Kayce. “When he came back for me instead of running to the house like I told him… I lost all sense of rational thought.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He looked her over, deciding to take the seat next to her. He worried about calling her that. He didn’t want her to panic all over again like a few weeks ago. “I just wish it didn’t happen this way.”

Stella gingerly touched her fingertips to the cut that started above her right eyebrow and stopped on the apple of her cheek. “Yeah me too. It probably looks gnarly, doesn’t it?”

When she didn’t panic when he called her baby, he continued. “It’s beautiful. Just like you.” They didn’t know the men had come back into the room.

Her mouth dropped open. “These meds they’ve got me on must be hittin�� me real good.” She chuckled. She went quiet. Kayce thought she might have fallen asleep, but there was a look of contemplation on her face.

“What is it Stella? Is something wrong? Do I need to get the doctor?” Kayce began standing.

“No, no, no.” Stella reached out for his hand. “I was just thinking, and it’s a horrible time to ask, but if I don’t now, I never will.” Kayce waited for her to continue and gently rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand that didn’t have the IV port. “Did you really mean what you said the other night in the lodge?”

“There were a lot of things said that night, sugar.”

Stella had hoped she wouldn’t have to say it out loud. She sighed. “You said you loved me.” She adjusted her glasses, pulling her bottom lip in briefly. “Did you really mean that?”

Around the corner, the five men were about to shit a brick house. They all looked between each other with their mouths hanging wide open. This was not where they thought this conversation was headed. It wasn’t what they thought they were going to be walking in on.

Kayce thought about it. She hadn’t mentioned anything since, so he thought it was something she didn’t want to talk about just yet.

“By god Stella, yes. I meant every damn word.” He watched her as she mulled everything over. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just been a lot.” She played with a corner of her blanket. “So when do you gotta go back? I don’t wanna keep you from your family.”

“Tate finally caught sleep. He should be solid for a little while. I do have to go back eventually.”

“But I’ll be here with you all night, Stellee.” Ryan announced as the men walked back around the corner.

“When they let me outta here, where am I going?”

“I’d like it if you would stay at the ranch for a little while longer.” Rip mentioned. “Just in case something isn’t feeling right, someone is around.”

“Can I stay somewhere other than the bunkhouse?” She inquired. She looked to her brother. “Please? For my own sanity?”

John finally spoke up. “Yes, you may. You have the pick of wherever you want. You say the word and I’ll get you a spot.”

Stella and Kayce shared a look of bewilderment. She smiled gently at John. “Thank you, sir.” She tried to straighten her face out to avoid stretching her skin. She grimaced with the movement of her skin. “I mean, John.” The bruises and the gash across her face were really killing her vibe for smiling. Even if it was for the simple fact that she was alive. She let out a sharp yawn.

John glanced at Stella and Kayce, then the rest of the men. “I think that’s our sign to head out for the night. She needs to rest. Ryan, you keep us updated, alright?” Ryan confirmed with a nod.

“Can I have a minute with Stella before we leave?” Kayce asked.

“Of course, Kace.” Ryan ushered everyone out of the room.

Kayce stood, still holding Stella’s hand. She watched him contentedly while he contemplated. He rubbed her knuckles. “Can I kiss you? I’ve never really asked.”

A small smile splayed across her face as far as she could without pain. It was probably the wrong time for this joke, but she couldn’t resist herself. “I dunno. Can you?”

“Oh you ass.” Kayce started to pull his hand away.

Stella gripped his fingers with a giggle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Yes, please kiss me.”

He leaned down gently to her. He was almost afraid to hurt her.

“I won’t break, Kayce.” She whispered. Their eyes met finally in a collision of brown on brown.

He leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to hers. Time seemed to stand still. He had been so worried she was gone, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything else other than getting his son back and getting payback to the sons of bitches who did this to her. He pressed slightly harder, trying to melt into her. He hadn’t realized he wanted this for a long time until the thought of her being gone crossed his mind. Even long before Monica came along. Her partially dry lips, no thanks to the dry hospital air, opened with a gasp.

He backed up slightly thinking he’d hurt her. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, come back here. Don’t apologize. It’s just hard to breathe with a stuffy swollen nose and broken ribs.” She greedily reached for him. When his lips touched hers again, her eyes closed and she leaned into him. He trailed after her, but pulled away and straightened his back.

“I should go. When we get you to the ranch, you wanna stay in the lodge with me?”

“I think I’d like that.” She would appreciate the solitude, but would still be close to her brother, her horse.

“Wait, Abigail. Is she okay? Did you guys find her?”

“Funny enough she ran up to us first panicking, before we found you. We thought it was because everyone was running around.” He gazed down at her with a sad smile. If only he would have known before he found Stella. The memory tried to come back, but he blocked it. “So yes, she’s okay. A little spooky, but she’s okay. I’ve had Jimmy lookin’ after her. When he wasn’t, Rip was.”

Stella sat back with a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god.” She didn’t know what she’d do if something ever happened to that horse. “You go. Take care of your boy. I’ll be safe with Ryan here.”

Kayce squeezed her hand and went out to the hall to trade places with Ryan. The two shared a look, knowing that this would be a conversation had at a later date.

The three extra men that visited began to walk back out to their vehicles. John stopped, causing Kayce to pause. John faced Ryan. “Ryan!” The man in question stopped his journey through the door. “This is on me.”

Ryan’s face contorted into confusion. “What do you mean, sir?”

John looked down. “I mean your sister almost gave her life to protect my family. She earned that brand fully. This trip is on me.” John swiveled on his heel, and caught up with the other men, leaving Ryan standing there about to cry if he wasn’t careful.

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #yellowstonetv #luke grimes #ian bohen #ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfic

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dragynkeep · 1 year ago

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is2g some rwby fans just see a take & boil it down to the most basic, inaccurate trope so they can go "see! y'all are wrong!"

we aren't saying blake didn't have struggles. we see on screen how she's marginalzied when she comes to beacon because weiss immediately targets her once she knows that blake was part of the white fang & a lot of us criticize the narrative in the series proper that allowed weiss's behaviour to slide without even a basic apology.

however saying blake isn't priviledged because she didn't "get the big house until she was a teenager" is crazy inaccurate. we see in the dc comics, which people love to use to say bees moments are canon & adam is a canonical pedophile despite his age never being stated & ilia looking the same age — blake was in that house from a child. there's pictures of her as a child in that house with her immensely privileged people & this existing at the same time that blake says that there's an overcrowding issue in menagerie is an issue. the belladonnas should not be living in a comparable mansion while their citizens are in huts.

the belladonnas did not "work" for this house. it wasn't given to them for being leaders of the white fang, otherwise they would've left when sienna overtook the organization to actually do something other than bootlick humans & beg for peace. there are also pictures of presumably other belladonna relatives in this home, alluding that it's more than likely something passed down through the family.

where was the work? ghira is useless & kali even more so, functionally existing as a milf joke while being a nothing housewife.

& as for the latter point of blake not being privileged because she's also part of the marginalized group — this ignores that blake is living on menagerie for a majority of her upbringing, a place that is functionally an ethnostate. there is no racism to be experienced on this island because there's no human influence & even when blake comes out of menagerie, she is actively hiding her faunus traits to avoid racial discrimination.

compare this to characters who can't do that: like sun (who experiences police brutality the first time he's on screen), velvet (who suffers physical assault & racial violence), ilia (suffered violent discrimination in an actually oppressive society towards faunus & her parents died due to faunus exploitation), adam (a former goddamn child slave) & so many others.

the only time blake has had to "fight for her rights" as a young child was when her parents took her from the functional safety of menagerie to put her in potentially violent protests. blake isn't affected by the racism of the world until her deadbeat ass parents choose to show her it & that's something that they should be criticized for.

rwby fans learn that people are not saying blake isn't marginalized: she absolutely is. but she also exists in the show as functionally far more privileged than her other faunus counterparts, to the extent that she can preach for peace & blame them for setting her own mansion on fire while they're just trying to survive in their huts.

if blake being the faunus equivalent of weiss makes you uncomfortable, good! that's a starting point into deconstructing the rest of this mess of a racism plotline instead of y'all just telling poc & bme folks that we're dumb.

#rwby #rwde #blake belladonna #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna #ais.txt

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im-s0rry · 4 months ago

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Grimm's Chaos Clash Finale (300 Post Special)

So it seems that this little game has ended. Our winners have been found from the Chaos Clash Tourney. . .

GIVE IT UP FOR DOGGONE AND ORCHESTAL!!!

AND NOW, AS STATED, @petra-creat0r AND @cannibala-co NOW GET SPAMTON'S WILL TO LIVE AS WELL AS BRAGGING RIGHTS FOR WINNING THIS STUPID LITTLE TOURNAMENT!!!

I just wanted to say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all for submitting your characters, joining this tournament, voting, cheering on our contestants, and overall just having a fun time expressing your creativity through this niche community that we all call home. I made this tournament so that we could all use our creativity to push ourselves further beyond. . . And I think that we were able to accomplish that with this tournament. I am so glad that this community was able to get together and do something like this. . .

And now, a few closing statements for my 300th post on this Blog.

Folks, I'll be honest with you all, I'm not sure how I got this far. This community has shifted so much in this short time, it's hard to see how we got here in the first place. We lost and regained my dear friend Mercair, we went through two ARGs where several people got replaced by AI while Sakriss was introduced to the world, almost all of my Secret Bosses got redesigned, fun was had, and friends were made. . . To @glitch-the-artist , whom I have spent way more time with, in all honesty, I want to thank you for all that you've done for this community. Your work is amazing and has inspired me to work harder than ever. . . To @mercair , who left for a long while before returning with the incredibly made @dont-play-deltarune-at-3am ARG and a new Secret Boss, Sakriss! You've always been an incredible friend, an inspiration to many, and a niche micro-celebrity in this side of the Deltarune Secret Boss Fandom. I owe a lot to you, man, and I still don't regret turning you into Sonatta that one time. . . To @mrchaosman , who's taking a break from posting to focus on his mental health. . . Thank you. You were always there for me when I needed you, you built me up and I. . . I never returned the favor. . . And I regret all of those times where I left you on read. I hope to do better after this, I mean it this time. . . To those six other people who were at one point in my mind. . . May you rest in peace. You made up a small part of my life that. . . I kind of regret now that I think of it. Your sacrifices weren't in vain, y'all. . . But even then, I don't miss y'. . . To @creepa-b0t-inc , honestly one of the most dedicated and amazing people in this Fandom. You've helped on so many projects and worked with some of the biggest creators in this Fandom and i want to thank you for all of that work youve done for this community. Without you, I don't think this community would be the way it is now. . . To everyone who's supported my work up to this point, I want to thank all of you. Without you, I wouldn't be here ranting about my weird ocs and improving as much as I have now. This community, this game, it means so much to me. . . And I want to thank you for all of that. . .

. . . By why go out like that? Why go out without something new to think about. Something. . . Bold. This is the first time I've told anyone outside of the small group of people who I've tried to make this happen with, I'm here to tell you about Void Hotline. Void Hotline is a small Deltarune AU I've had a hand in making about WD and Dess, along with a small group of other characters including the Goners, Chara, Flowey, Seam, Everyman, and the Skeleton Brothers, all working at a call center which is specifically designed to make the Secret Bosses go insane and know the truth about their world. I wouldn't expect much from it, due to it being an uphill battle with me and the team constantly forgetting to work on it, but I feel like with the help of some other people, specifically you guys, maybe this can go somewhere. If you're interested in helping with this AU, please message me about it and I will see if you're fit for the team. Together, I hope that we can make this stupid little AU. . . And I hope that you all have a great day. I bid you all adieu. Happy 300th.

#deltarune #deltarune oc #deltarune secret boss #deltarune fan character #secret boss #Grimm'sChaosClash #chaosclashtourney #orchestral #doggone #3000 posts #milestone post #ChaosClashWinners #Tribute.#mercair #mrchaosman #glitchtheartist #creepabotinc #void hotline dr #Happy 300th

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cyarskj1899 · 4 days ago

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the biggest and most heart breaking thing for me rn (and it changes by the MINUTE) is just how this truly gave the green light to everybody watching that morals will get you nowhere. You could be kind, empathic, beautiful, driven, loving … and you will still lose to an evil, racist, greedy white man who’s stolen, cheated, assaulted and hurt his way to the top. This is the message we send to kids and to our elders who’s living the rest of their years in what should be relative peace and happiness….yet now they’re forced to witness the same type of man rise to power, the man that terrorized them in their youth AND their elderly years. It’s stomach churning

Be clear, Trump’s win is a sign of voter realignment it's a sign of voter apathy. Trump didn't have to convert voters, just hold on to his base. This result is an indictment on MAGA and the 10 million + Biden voters who saw the most racist and sexist campaign, ignored the economists who warned about Trump’s plans wrecking the economy and still stayed home. Just remember that happens now is EXACTLY what y'all asked for and I will be here to remind you. #electionshaveconsequences

The thing about leopards is eventually they will eat you too. Your favorite local restaurant closing because the nice family who owns it getting deported. You thought they were some of the “good ones.” The price of produce skyrocketing even before the camps are built as immigrants flee. Your daughter dying of sepsis because the lawyers feel it’s too risky to perform that D&C. No more FAFSA for your kids college because you didn’t know that was part of the Department of Education. Veterans having their benefits cut because they rolled back the PACT Act as too expensive. That factory in town that was going to build chips and employ your kids never breaking ground because of the repeal of the CHIPs act. The bridge that was going to cut your commute in half being canceled because of the repeal of the Infrastructure Act. That sweet government job that you’ve loved because you can work 8 hours a day and fish on the weekends has been slated for a MAGA Schedule F slot because it controls funding for contracts that will go to Republican donors, so you’re fired without cause or any union protections. You’ll blame Biden or the local

Democrats probably. But it will be fine because Elon promised it would be uncomfortable at first but it will get better. You were just so sure it would be uncomfortable for…you know…”those people.” Not you. But that’s leopards for you. They eat whatever is available.

Kamala is a class act today cuz I would’ve got up there and said “fuck y’all, have the day you deserve.” Don’t get me wrong I understand they’re political figures so they can be going to the depths of hell even when those who are against them go low but I’m sick of the “they go low, we go high” shit. It’s time out for it at this point. Decorum died a long time ago.

You can’t fight racism, fascism, misogyny, xenophobia, etc with kindness or extending grace. People who don’t believe you should exist don’t deserve any respect.

I won’t hesitate to tell folks to go *** or go find the nearest intersection. Because you won’t be a bigot towards me & expect kindness in return.

You’ll never see white supremacists compromising on a gawd damn thing.. To them whiteness >>> everything else.. Lmao.

I want marginalized and the often mistreated folks to arm themselves, get their licenses, take up some self defense courses, etc. whatever you can do to survive these four years, do

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spunkykirby · 8 months ago

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As noted yesterday, I compiled a list of Morax's sins. The following are all of his unforgivable sins according to the fandom, the inexcusable blood on his leger, the utterly indefensible actions of Morax that call him to the stand:

1. Participant in the Archon War.

Zhongli participated in the war for the stolen Authorities. No, we don't know if all Archons knew the seats held the Dragon Authorities, we just knew they knew Celestia was choosing 7 gods to rule the land and exiling the others. All that matters is he participated in it, doesn't matter if he didn't know the reason, didn't start it, or was forced! Dragon authorities are up there and that's all that matters!

...wait, we do have one reason.

"I wish not for dominion, yet I cannot let the common folk suffer." [Zhongli's Character trailer].

So it's confirmed he participated to stop innocents around him from unnecessarily suffering, he never actually wanted the leadership role. His Adepti also refer to him (and themselves) participating for the sake of "bringing prosperity back to the people" [Xianyun Story 3].

However, there is no prosperity in participating in war PERIOD, silly gooses!! How dare you act in the only way possible to lessen the violence for the innocents caught in the crossfire?? The arrogance. War criminals!! You shouldn't have participated in the first place! What happens to all the other innocents you've directly witnessed caught in the crossfire is up to them and their misfortune to bear. Not. You!

(now that I think about it, calling all of them war criminals for participating in the archon war (with majority of their moves being made in self defense) would more than likely be equivalent to calling Wriothesley a willing accomplice in the child tr4ff1cking ring he was victim to or Childe 100% guilty for everything that happened in Fontaine). But anyways.

2. He killed Chenyu Vale's god, and became the new ruler over the now godless and defenseless (because the Archon War was not over after her death) people.

Fu Jin states Chenyu was peaceful under that god's rule until the Archon War was called. She didn't know if her god chose to "go mad" over survival or "seeking the position of a god who may rule this world". Either way, she instigated a war against Morax and, frustrated in not being able to get the upper hand, decided to flood Bishui river in a last ditch attempt (which was also set to kill not only her people but the people Morax was assigned to look after. Queue his contract with his people triggering into effect).

It's not explicitly stated she died but she more than likely did. I mean, it's a war, and she wasn't going to stop murking all the innocents until she took the Archon spot.

Also...I...actually don't know if I could call it unrightfully stolen land (and before y'all bring up the whole "Archons don't belong they're on stolen land b/c usurpers" thing, so are all of the humans and beings created by the PO on this planet. Everyone who isn't a Vishap should be blamed). In order for a land to be stolen, it needs an owner still claiming ownership over it, and there was no owner holding ownership over it anymore.

The battle was also not instigated by Morax in an attempt to steal Chenyu Vale, it was first and foremost a battle out of self defense that later changed to a land naturally "changing hands" (leaders. For example you wouldn't say Focalors "stole" Fontaine after Egeria died, Ei "stole" Inazuma after Makoto or Venti "stole" all of Mondstat after the first leader's death). It would also constitute as unrightfully stolen if the native habitants fought against Morax now leading them, but they accepted his rulership over them with no underlying contempt/force. A natural and consenting change of hands.

But! Either way! Rightful self defense or not, he m6rdered! Which is bad!!!! He deserves to be punished for it and it's added onto his list of crimes!!!

3. He murked Osial, whose "d3ath"bed was the foundation of Guyun Forest.

Morax was noted to have murked Osial because Osial "wrought chaos upon his domain". Another piece suggests this was also an act of self defense, for Osial's power (whether it be out of hatred for Morax (which seems to be the more likely case because Zhongli says they were long grudging rivals) or just his general existence is unknown) extended over a large range, reaching Liyue's citizens and terrorizing them. Morax's intervention/confrontation of Osial was only noted after Osial's power reached and terrorized his citizens. There are no pieces insinuating nor confirming the opposite. [Diary of Roald the Adventurer, Vol. 6]. [Monolith Fragment].

...soooo the crime is once again murking in self defense. But violence is violence!! Punishable by law!! If Morax didn't want to be charged for this, he should've stood aside and let the waves terrorize and kill his people for many millennia to come (though wouldn't that also be breaking the contract/rules of being an archon, which is to act in the health/benefit of their citizens first and foremost?). Zhongli is damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. But who cares! Whatever he does or doesn't do in this instance is punishable by law and *true* justice!!!

4. He murked the Chi/Qingce.

It is noted the Mountainplace the Chi "ravaged" long stood before it decided to make its living place there (dispelling the myth that its corpse formed the land). People also lived there before it started to cause havoc too. It is unknown why it was driven to cause chaos, but the fact of the matter is, it caused chaos to Liyue's people specifically, and as per Morax's duty as an Archon, he stepped in to slay(?) it. It's not completely dead, just separated into pieces. Morax could not permanently kill it.

...violence is violence though! What he did is punishable by law!! Though, technically doing anything else in this instance is also punishable by law (doing nothing and allowing the monster to ravage his people is against the ideals of an archon but forcing them to move is also punishable by causing liyueans emotional duress via forcibly moving them due to outside forces they can't control but he can. Doing this each time a monster appears onto the land they've dwelt on before its existence is also unfair). [The Stars Inscribe the Year].

5. Marchosius and other Adepti participated and sacrificed themselves as a result of the war neither them nor Morax started!

...so you could say it's all technically due to Morax they're forced under these conditions (even though he didn't start the war, force the war to happen, nor force them into a contract)! Punishable!!

The Adepti, who were not forced into following Morax [Xianyun Story 3], established a contract with him to protect Liyue and his citizens. There were risks that came along with this job they decided to commit to, but they still did so dutifully. The circumstances they agreed to led to many of their deaths, including Xiao's karma, of which there isn't an insta-relief potion to. Zhongli can only slightly offset the effects.

Basically they're literally a walking: "Well if it isn't the consequences of my own actions."

6. Liyue AQ.

Morax inadvertently went through with a plan to unleash a sealed god beneath the sea, as a test (more specifically for the people who signed up knowing their job's risks. Nonetheless, they are risks he was somewhat responsible for this time around).

Despite the test naturally having risks (as any test in existence does, it's not a proper test without risk), it was a battle partially planned by his own hand. Even if he didn't directly throw the chaos at them, he was still behind the scenes, therefore shared some responsibility for it and the consequences.

The game does go out of its way to confirm nobody was ever in any real danger (3 characters confirming this, Signora doing most of the talking in the scene) and the battle wasn't even at Liyue Harbor (Keqing stating it wasn't) however Osial is still a crazy god and if anyone got injured Zhongli would share some responsibility (he could've stopped it).

This (excluding Khaenriah, we don't know what happened there) is pretty much the only "stain" on his career, in terms of judging him for being guilty of not handling the Authority healthily or whatever. He could arguably be declared guilty because he set up a risk-less divine test that came out the wazoo or he could be declared as not guilty by being argued as responsible enough (as an Archon) to properly ensure everything is prepared for his stepping down (alongside there being confirmed no actual danger). His multi millennium experience with these things is further reassurance for this claim.

7. Azhdaha.

This is...this is pretty self explanatory. There is absolutely no defense to Azhdaha's actions nor a reasonable excuse for Zhongli to not confront him (especially when Azhdaha is more than likely the Geo Sovereign. There are literally no other contenders in Liyue to stop a crazed sovereign hellbent on decimating all humans on his continent).

This...this shouldn't need any arguments. It was literally Morax confronting him or the end of Liyue (this is the same dragon frog who caused immense earthquakes when turning around in a nap. Now imagine him up and raging about!).

PS: There is no confirmation anywhere whatsoever he directly took part in decimating the Sovereigns alongside the Shades. And if this were so, it would make zero sense for Azhdaha to automatically submit and wish to become BFFs with Morax after Morax tried to lay waste to him and his brethren some years prior.

PPS: We don't know if he was directly at Khaenriah. Despite all Archons being called there, quite a few didn't actually make it to Khaenriah (Venti, Rukka, Egeria, and we have some pieces stating Morax personally directed the troops to deal with the Abyss breaking through in the Chasm during the Cataclysm).

PPPS: Zhongli does not owe Neuvillette alone anything. Neuvillette is, above all, a judge. Of Fontaine. Do you see judges of the US rushing over to Cnada to subjugate over others in accordance to their own personal laws of their land? No? It also wouldn't make sense for Ei to go over to Fontaine to wreck havoc over Fontainians not following her personal Inazuma law(s) either right? Alright same applies here (with some game logic).

#genshin impact #zhongli #morax #lore #theory #do note i use heavy sarcasm whenever it comes to the quotes in red lol #but they do sum up 90% of what the fandom dubs as inexcusable sins that #Neuvillette NEEDS to punish and k1ll zhongli for lol #some of them say zhongli has a lot to answer for and has inexcusable bl0od on his hands #but then refuse to elaborate on what or why that could possibly be...what events are they referring to...#wonder why they can never elaborate with sourcing back to in game content #...

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