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pleasantanathema · 4 years ago

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Sinful Hymns

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Hair pulling, some rough sex, sex on a desk, religious allusions, a dash of authority kink, no spoilers past early season 1

Word Count: 4k

A/N: In celebration of Season 4 of Attack on Titan airing today, here’s a fulfilled request for Commander Handsome 💕 Thank you so much to the anon who requested this, I had so much fun writing this!

You couldn’t sleep. There was a nagging in your mind, shadowy visions of titans ascending mountains, climbing walls—the same nightmares that plagued you ever since you joined the scouts all those years ago. You found yourself in the showers, all alone scrubbing away your sins and torments. But even a cleansing couldn’t seem to quell your thoughts, so you roamed.

The meandering halls of the old scout regiment headquarters were cold, musty, unwelcoming even with Levi’s cleaning. Glimmering lamp light under a cracked door caught your attention, the only light you’d seen while on your stroll.

The Commander was still awake.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to stop, to bring your knuckles to rap against the wood of the door. You’d once been quite close with Erwin, back when you were both cadets and working your way up the ranks, but he’d become quite elusive since becoming the Commander. You’d always been interested in him, found your gaze lingering on him a little too long when was around. There was some kind of irresistible, seductive pull towards him, like if you got close enough, he might let you explore the man under the armor. You wondered if he felt it, too, or if your lust was one-sided.

You were just too curious about what would keep him awake at night. Maybe he struggled with the same miseries you did when the nights felt too dark.

Tentatively, you slid past the open door.

Blue eyes caught your movement, his handsome face tilting towards you from where it was seated in his palm.

He whispered your name, smile tugging at his cheeks.

“Commander Smith,” you acknowledged, “you’re up quite late.”

“Seems I’m not the only one.” There was an amusement in his voice that you couldn’t quite place.

He leaned back in his chair as you stayed in your place, a sudden rise of bashfulness making you bite at the inside of your lip. You were sure you were pestering him; you should’ve just wandered back to your room. Your feet were ready to move, heels pressed against the floor to turn and leave at his behest.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“I—no, I just couldn’t sleep. Apologies, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“No, you’re no bother. Rather, you’re quite a pleasant distraction at the moment,” he gestured to his desk, littered with paperwork and books opened to forgotten pages, “come in, shut the door behind you.”

You did as you were so kindly told, clicking the door into place behind you before moving in closer. His office was warm, bathed in dim candlelight from the lamp on his desk, shadows being cast from the bookshelves that lined the walls. You noticed he was in only a white button-down and trousers, his ODM gear placed neatly on a chest behind where he sat.

Your hands came to rest on the chair that was placed in front of his desk for his visitors. You remained standing, not quite ready to be so familiar as to just sit and talk with him. There was humor in his eyes as they scanned your figure, undoubtedly surprised to see you dressed so casually as well, simple pants and shirt being all you brought to wear after taking your late-night shower.

“Tell me, what keeps you awake?”

There were many answers to his question, but you erred on the side of simplicity.

“Nightmares. What about you? What’s kept you awake tonight?”

Erwin sighed, deep and heavy from his chest. You observed how his long fingers gripped at the armrest of his seat, knuckles white.

“Letters. Demands from the Military Police to hand over the boy who turns into a titan, demands from royalty to execute him. But also my own curiosities. I’ve been reading to see if there are any records of anyone else like him.”

“I see,” your tongue clicked behind your lips as you recognized the heaviness bound within his broad shoulders, “anything I can help you with?”

He smiled fully then, white teeth curving against his pretty lips.

“Like I said, you’re a welcome distraction. How have you been?”

Again, there were too many ways to answer his question. But you couldn’t bring yourself to bring your burdens to him, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world upon his back.

“Life isn’t as simple as it used to be,” not that living in this world had ever been easy.

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t.”

You caught an etching of the walls on his desk, details of Sina and Maria partially obscured by a leather-bound book, penciled in lines and notes scribbled around the paper’s edges. Something about it drew you in, had you moving to perch on the edge of his desk, one thigh crinkling pages of ink as your fingers deftly plucked at the drawing.

He watched you with curiosity, eyebrows lifted as he brought a hand to his chin.

Your nail traced against the charcoal lines, gaze scanning the comprehensive sketch of the rounded walls and the cities held within them.

“My father used to think there was some kind of power within the walls; believed there was some unseen magic lingering within the stones to keep us safe…” you trailed off, the rest of your thoughts caught within your throat, “...I’m glad he wasn’t alive when the walls were breached, would’ve ruined the mystery for him.”

“Was he a believer in the Church of the Walls?”

“No,” you hummed softly, “just someone who thought there was more to the story.”

Quite like yourself, you wanted to say, but left the words unspoken. You set the yellowing paper back on his desk, arms crossing.

He rolled his shoulders in a quiet stretch, running a tired hand through his blonde undercut as he looked up at you. You’d always found him overwhelmingly handsome, the kind of man who changed the atmosphere of a room when he walked in. But there was always a warmth to him, like there was always something brewing, churning inside that enticing mind of his.

“I never could understand how people could worship the walls,” he mused, shifting his weight forward, getting a little closer to where you were perched, “not when there are other, more...beautiful things to praise.”

Heat crept up the back of your neck, your too-close proximity to him becoming all too apparent. But he kept getting closer.

His hand found your knee, fingers trailing over the tight threads of your pants.

The act seemed endearing, harmless, but the simple touch had your desire rearing its sordid head again. You felt emboldened, confidence swelling in your chest.

“Then what would you worship, Erwin?”

“I’m a man of too many sins, I doubt there’s any kind of faith that could bring me absolution.”

Your fingers ached to touch him, your hand reaching toward his face before your mind could stop the movement. His cheek was warm, skin soft under the brush of your thumb.

“I don’t believe that. There has to be something beautiful for you to admire…” you felt his fingers tighten against your leg, drifting higher up your thigh, pulling you in, bringing you closer.

“I could start with you.”

The tension snapped, splitting like a tightly strung cord between you. You heeded the call to be nearer, moving your hand to rest against his shoulder for balance as you took the initiative to settle yourself in his lap. For a moment, you worried that you pushed too far, that you’d invaded his personal space and made him uncomfortable. But those fears were battered quickly when eager hands took hold of your waist, palms spread wide as they trailed up your back.

“I’ve always admired you from afar,” he was hushed, breath fanning over your neck, “but you’re much easier to worship up close.”

You kissed him without a second thought. Years of attraction, of adoration, fueled your lips, your hands grasping at his jawline as he met your passion. His mouth slanted against yours ardently, impatient hands slipping under your shirt.

You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his warm fingers ghosting up your skin, now suddenly very aware you hadn’t bothered to wear anything below your clothes—you thought you’d be returning to your room, not wandering into your Commander’s lap. You moaned into his mouth, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to taste you. You were overcome with too much, all your senses now flooding with Erwin, his scent, his touch, his entire being smothering you with all the attentions you had ever craved from him.

His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, a groan leaving his chest when you settled lower into his lap, your thighs draped over his own and your core pressed against his hardening cock.

This wasn’t real—this couldn’t be real, surely you were caught up in one of your dreams again, but his lips against yours felt real, felt hungry, his large hands now cupping and holding the weight of your breasts within his hands. Your fingers carded through his hair, nails delicately raking through the roots to remind yourself that it was him, that this was real.

“You taste like sin,” he praised, peppering kisses down the column of your throat.

Any thought you had of replying disappeared when strong fingers pinched at your nipples, causing a heavy moan to fall out of your mouth as your head tilted back, allowing him more access to your neck. He plucked tenderly at your sensitive flesh, a noticeable smirk growing upon his lips as each tug and roll of your breasts had you gasping, whining. He quite liked that, it seemed, to be able to play you so easily.

You mumbled curses into the air, eyes fluttering closed. You experimentally rolled your hips in his lap, an attempt to get a similar rise from him. He bared his teeth against your throat, canines nipping into your skin before pressing his lips down more forcefully, sucking and lapping at your neck. Heat bloomed from where his mouth met your body, a telling sign that you would have a mark there to remember him by. He was careful, choosing a supple spot below where the collar of your uniform would cover you tomorrow.

Erwin’s hands released your aching breasts, moving down to grasp at the hem of your shirt.

“Take this off,” he demanded, a string of saliva still connecting his lips to your neck.

You dropped your hands from his hair, trailing down his broad chest before meeting his hands and pulling your shirt up over your head. It fell to the floor carelessly, the chill of the room making your skin pebble with gooseflesh.

You took note of how his cheeks were flushed pink, blush faint across his elegant aquiline nose.

His intimidating, icy eyes flickered up to you, making your own flush spread across your body. You felt like he was looking through you, reading your thoughts, hearing your internal screams for more. Then, his gaze fell back to your heaving breasts, hands greedily taking them again, lips wrapping around one of your nipples and making you whimper.

You could feel his cock pressing against you now, harder and thicker than before, the ridge of it nestled against your throbbing cunt. You rolled yourself against it, delighted sounds leaving both of your mouths at the contact. His tongue swirled around your puckered nipple, teeth just barely daring to drag against your flesh. You buried your fingers into his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten and then relax at your touch.

“Oh-oh fuck, I—,”

“You’re dripping,” he interrupted, one of his hands unclasping from your breast and drifting down your belly to rub at the damp spot between your legs, “I can feel you against me.”

You shivered at the wanton touch, thighs clenching against his legs.

“Did you come here tonight to seduce me?”

He mumbled the words against your breast, tongue flattening against your nipple with a few long, heavy licks as his eyes flashed up to you, waiting for your response.

“No, sir, I promise that wasn’t my,” you moaned as a thick finger slid against your clit through your clothes, “that wasn’t my intention.”

His wet lips left your breast, coy smirk painting his face.

“Shame, that was my plan the moment you stepped into my office.”

You always did fall for his tricks; if only you’d known his hand against your thigh earlier wasn’t so harmless after all.

“And how did this plan of yours end, Commander?”

It still felt strange to call him by that title after so many years of calling him by his name, but there was something sensual about it, something alluring about his newfound authority.

His hands were pushing at your hips, fingers crushing into your skin as he lifted you to move back.

“With you bent over my desk.”

It didn’t take him long to wrangle you into the position he so desired. His hands were unhurried, purposeful as he pushed you to stand, peeling your pants down your legs before pressing your face into the pile of papers on his desk. You felt so exposed, what with him being able to see your pussy on display from behind you while all you could focus on was his touch and the way the flame at the edge of his desk flickered.

Erwin’s fingers spread the folds of your cunt, an appreciative hum sounding from his throat. You mewled at the touch, thighs shaking in your anticipation. The button to his pants popped softly, then you finally felt him, felt his hard, thick cock nudging at your entrance.

Your hands crumpled a few pages as you searched for something to cling to. Your heart was pounding in your ears, suddenly all too aware that the Commander was still fully clothed, while you were laid out across his desk like a naked whore. One of his hands pulled at your hip, the other trailing down the expanse of your back.

There was a boldness coming to life inside you at the realization that he’d wanted you the moment you appeared within his room.

“Worth worshipping, Erwin?”

You ate your words as he shoved himself inside you, stretching you to your limits as your body burned to accommodate his size. You cried out against the mass of papers, eyes blurring as pleasure burst across all of your nerve endings.

He groaned at the feeling himself, both hands now digging into the meat of your hips.

“Fuck,” you heard him breath in deep as he slid is cock out of you before slamming in again, “oh absolutely, darling.”

You hadn’t heard Erwin curse before.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on your thoughts, not with him now moving ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping against your ass with every sharp, deep thrust. Little sounds left your lips with every plunge, blissful tingles stemming from where your bodies were conjoined. You loved how you could feel the head of his fat cock dragging along your walls, thick veins throbbing under silken skin.

You were far past believing this was a dream, now convinced you were actually in the sweet joys of a paradise beyond life.

A coil of pleasure began to tighten within your lower stomach, hot and mean, like it was ready to tear and erupt with a rush of ecstasy. You moaned his name like a prayer, eyes closed tightly as you focused on the intensity of his cock thrusting inside you.

You wouldn’t last long, not with the sinful hymns of his grunts and praises resounding behind you. His sounds were faint, but they were there, little rumbling of “so good, so tight,” kissing at your ears.

God, you could die. You could die and live a happy, full life from this moment alone. You felt so whole with him inside you, felt coated with desire and praise like never before. There were bruises already forming from his grip, you could feel them, skin sore and burning beneath his massive hands.

“You’re beautiful wrapped around my cock,” he voiced, tone deep and praising, brawny arm sweeping up your spine to fist in your hair. Your head jerked with his action, back arching as he pulled at you. You gasped at the discomfort, a dull ache forming from his too-tight grip. But the pain was overshadowed by the rivers of rapture running over your skin. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, your whole body rebounding like snapping elastic from his brutal behavior.

The new angle had his cock slamming against that spot inside you that had your body going almost numb from the pleasure, white hot heat spreading over all your limbs, making your toes curl against the floor. You felt like you were fracturing, that thrilling tendril tightening in your belly to its breaking point. You could feel your walls sucking in his cock, your body pleading on its own.

“Oh fuck, Commander—Erwin,” you were completely lost to the delirium, mind ruined.

“I know,” he grunted, fingers stiffening in your hair, craning your neck back farther, “I feel you, you’re so—you’re so fucking tight.”

You crashed down around him, your cunt clenching and pulsing in waves of euphoria, each crest making your lower muscles spasm. Your chin fell, your head only being held by the might of his hand, your brain so foggy with lust and release that you felt as if you had ascended the walls too quickly and fallen back down again. A fresh, euphoric jolt splintered down your body as he sheathed his cock fully into your depths, making your eyes flutter as your mouth opened in a glorious, blissed out state.

Your body threatened to crumple against the desk, but he held you; the space between his palms and strong fingers was one of the safest places in the world, nothing could touch you if Erwin had you beneath his touch. The fierce tightening of your body sent him over the edge. Hot cum poured inside of you, making you cry out at the captivating feeling of being completely filled by him, the Commander’s seed pooling within your pussy. Your snug walls struggled to flutter around the girth of his cock, prolonging your orgasm and leaving you gasping for breath and basking in every dull thump of his cock inside of you.

He gently let go of your hair, letting your spent body rest against the desk as he caught his breath. He smoothed his hands over your hips, a tinge of regret in his chest as he noticed the dark prints of his fingers etched into your skin. Erwin wasn’t used to letting go, to letting lust overtake him so mercilessly.

You stirred after a few moments, straightening your back and finding your balance between your legs. Erwin enveloped you in his arms, hand against your cheek as he trailed his lips up your neck, capturing the side of your mouth with a fervent kiss.

“Are you alright, darling?” Concern laced his tone, hand smoothing over your belly. You shuttered at the gentle touch, your skin cooling from sweat as you leaned back against his chest, cum sticky and crawling down your thighs.

You still felt lost, like you were waking from the dark depths of slumber, his hands calling you to him. One palm wrapped around your neck, stroking at the column of your throat like he was helping you to find your breath.

“Yes, yes I’m…,” you couldn’t think of the words to describe just how you felt. It was like you’d finally been cleansed, every grievous thought expunged from your mind, but also like you’d fallen back into the past, back into your daydreams of wishing Erwin would press you against the barracks wall and smothering his name from your mouth.

“It is yes sir, to you, don’t forget I’m your superior now,” he teased between nips and kisses, a smile brushing against your skin.

You turned in his arms, pressing your naked chest against his wrinkled shirt, the cotton soft against your breasts. You stood on your toes to try and match his height, molding your lips to his, stealing his grin and making it your own.

“I could never forget, not with such a display of power,” you affirmed, seriousness apparent on your tongue. You knew he could take anything he wanted from you, and you were more than willing to lay yourself bare for him whenever he pleased.

You expected there to be a stillness between you, a moment of reflection after such a callous coupling. But Erwin’s hands were greedy, selfish, cupping and kneading at the soft flesh of your ass, of the side of your breast. You were small in his shadow; a miniscule frame being devoured by a starved predator.

“I want to see just how well you obey orders. Go to my quarters and wait for me, I’m not finished with you yet.”

Your head nodded accordingly, your knees ready to kneel to the floor and gather your forgotten garments. But Erwin kept his fingers in your flesh, preventing you from moving from his hold when you tried.

“Ah, I don’t think you need your clothing, not when you’ll just be shedding it again so soon.”

There was a playful glint in his eyes, his eyebrows thoughtfully pressed together as he tried to gauge your response.

“Erwin,” his hands cinched around your body, an acute reminder, “sir, I can’t...walk to your room naked.”

He patted your backside before he sat back into the chair behind his desk, cock tucked neatly back into his pants. There was still a pretty blush tingeing his cheeks, his lips plump and dark pink from all their time spent sucking at your skin. You almost wanted to cover yourself under his scrutinizing gaze, icy irises roaming your body like a piece of art bought and hung on a wall for his viewing pleasure.

“It’s late, there shouldn’t be anyone to find you,” he relaxed, arms crossing across his chest, “but, if you happen to be unfortunate, remind them that you are under your Commander’s orders.”

Erwin took a sick delight in watching your eyes narrow at him, your lips pursing in slight irritation; but he knew you wouldn’t dare disobey him, you’d always been too good of a soldier for that, and now a promising plaything.

He couldn’t help but survey your body as you walked towards the door, delicious curves and marks from his skin on an alluring display, his cum still flowing down your thighs. You’d be a blessed sight to anyone who got the privilege to see you on your journey to his sleeping quarters, a goddess floating down the corridors.

You looked over your shoulder at him when you opened the door, catching his diligent gaze and matching it. He always thought you’d be amusing to toy with and you’d proven that with how easily you could match his intensity.

“You shouldn’t be up so late, Commander Smith, nothing good happens after midnight.”

He hid the smirk behind his hand as you left his office the same as you entered, only bare-skinned and with a new, more suitable destination.

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nightowlfandom · 3 years ago

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Ayato Sakamaki- My Only Human

HEY HEY!!

ANON ASKS

Can I make a request from your x -rated prompts. 36, 40, 57 , With Ayato Sakamaki. >.< if you can.

Idea: Maybe the reader, catches a student at the night school flirting and touching him, but when she thought he would shove her off, he doesn't. She gets super mad at him and doesnt talk to him the rest of the day until he comes in her room after school demanding to the what the readers problem is, and it leads to some rough sexy time??

If you cant thats fine >.<

If YoU CaN’t ThAt’s FiNe, PSSSSHH I GOT THIS

36- That’s it, grab my hair. Yank it, pull me back into your pussy.

40- How do you ride me so good? God damn, you’re gonna break me!

57- Fuck! You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!!

Leggo!!

...

“Yui, question.” you walked through the halls with your favorite adoptive-cousin.

“Y/N, Answer!” she giggled in reply. “What’s up?”

“I needed help! Me and this math thing is not a thing.” you glared down at your folder.

“18, 42, 6.9 and X=17.” she instantly filled in the blanks to the questions you hadn’t answered.

“Have I ever told you I loved you?” you faked crying.

“Only always.” she shrugged. “I see the boys beat us here.” she mused, noticing the Sakamaki AND the Mukami brothers in the respective groups by the lockers, right across from each-other.

“Always beating us here, but never offering to drop us off...assholes.”

“Aren’t you the one insisting on Ayato and you arriving at different times?” she raised a brow as you two slowed down in pace.

“I told it it would be better if I arrived a little bit after him after his gaggling fans dispersed.” you half-shrugged. “The last thing I need are his fangirls trying me.” you rolled your eyes.

“Like that girl flirting with Ayato?”

“Exactly...Wait WHAT?”

Yui pointed in the direction of the Sakamaki brothers. A girl was standing in front of him. Holding her books to her chest with one hand while twirling strands of her hair in another.

“Julia.” you growled. “She always does this!” you motioned to how ridiculous it was that she always flirted with one of the Sakamaki brothers. Especially the one that was TAKEN!

“Ayato won’t let her even touch him!” Yui tried to console you.

“You know what, you’re right.” you smiled a little. Everyone knew you two were an item. She wouldn’t dare.

“He loves you and he wouldn’t let her-”

You two watched as Ayato put on a flirtatious smile, crossing his arms in amusement as he leaned against the lockers.

“Maybe he won’t even entertain-”

Julia trailed a finger up his arm, laughing like a hyena.

“Maybe he’ll embarrass her?”

You watched as he took her hand, raised it to his mouth and gave her knuckles a short peck.

“Maybe-”

“Yui I love you, but I’ma need you to stop talking.” your voice kinda cracked.

You had transferred from day school to night school for him. You had transferred SCHOOLS for him. You dealt with the burden of having to take care of a human girl who was allergic to her own skin (you loved Yui to bits, but damnit if she didn’t get you into trouble all the time) on some days along with dealing with a bunch of perverted, self-important, assholes for him...so why..WHY was he responding to Julia....like he was single.

“I’m going class.” you grumbled. “See you later.”

“Y/N WAIT!”

...(Meanwhile)

Ayato needed to pass his English Lit. Class project, so of course when that Julia girl offered to type his report for him, he couldn’t say no. He had to pretend he wasn’t disgusted by her if he was going to remain in the top 5% of people with an actual brain. Fuck being like the other students.

“Y/N WAIT!”

“That sounded like Yui.” Reiji commented. They were surprised to see you bolted down the hallway at full speed with Yui on your tail. She skid to a stop to glare at Ayato.

“You’ve really done it this time.” was all she said before she ran off. “Y/N!! COME BACK!”

“Smooth move, moron.” Yuma called from the other side. “Looks like I get to play knight in shining armor.” he winked.

“Ayato~” Julia got his attention, “make sure to meet me in the library so I can give you your essay.”

“Yeah, sure whatever.” Ayato watched at Yui chased you down the hall.

... (Lunchtime/Free Period)

You sat in the courtyard, sadly staring at a sketchbook page You liked to paint or draw school life in the quad. You had started with a sketch of the Sakamaki brothers, but it didn’t feel right.

You’d probably get in trouble, but you just had to draw Yuma Mukami who was sitting by the fountain. You looked up every so often, hoping he didn’t see you.

“Y/N!” You heard. You turned your head to the side to see Ayato sitting with his brothers. “COME OVER HERE.”

Wordlessly, you grabbed your sketchbook...only to walk to the other side of the quad. You sat at another table, focusing back on your artwork.

“Hey...”A shadow was cast over your work.

“Do you mind?” you grumbled. “You’re blocking my light source.”

“Hm, I was just thinking you’d wanna see the reference up close.”

Your head darted up to see Yuma, standing in front of you. “May I sit.”

“Do whatever you want.” you grumbled. “I don’t care.”

Ayato watched from the other side of the court yard as that smug playful bastard took your sketchbook from in front of you and began flipping through it. Why hadn’t you sat with him today?? That Mukami dickwad had better not touch you.

He watched as Yuma flirted with you, and thankfully you didn’t seem to fall for his charms. Though that half smile you gave when he gave you a flower that had been growing nearby was enough to make him angry.

“AYATOOOO~” Julia practically threw herself into the spot where you usually sat when you sat with him. “I finished your report!”

“Great. Sure, whatever.” he glared potholes at Yuma.

“So...do you wanna eat lunch together?”

“That’s nice, Maria.”

“It’s Julia...”

“Sure whatever.”

(Meanwhile)

“There’s that smile.” he winked as you looked at the flower.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Also, next time you draw me...let’s have it be a nude painting huh?” He winked, getting up.

“Gross.” you scoffed, standing up yourself. “See you in Biology.” you cringed.

“Y/N!” you heard Ayato’s voice call again. Just ignore him...(Read more below the break)

... (Smut warning)

When you got home, you locked yourself in your room. You had told Yui to not bother trying to make you feel better, because it wouldn’t work. You had just finished your homework when-

“Y/N! LET ME IN!” Ayato angrily knocked at the door. When he didn’t hear anything back, he decided that the window would have to suffice. “FINE! YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE.”

“Oh shit!” you began to run towards the window, hoping to shut it when Ayato practically appeared out of nowhere with a frown on his face.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” he glowered. When you didn’t answer, he grew more agitated. “Y/N, Don’t make me ask again.” Still nothing. “Y/N, You have three seconds to tell me-”

“Why don’t you ask Julia!” you finally snapped. “You sure seem to like flirting with HER.”

“What? I’d never flirt with that disgusting-”

“SO KISSING HER HAND THIS MORNING WASN’T FLIRTING! Yui and I saw you! She touched your arm and you didn’t even move!” you accused.

“Y/N, let me explain!”

“YOU DON’T NEED TO! You don’t love me anymore!” you pointed. “So go be with her! Go flirt with her! Go and spend time with her because that all you seemed to be interested in doing today!”

Ayato gasped, he finally realized what Yui had been talking about when she said ‘You really done it this time.’ He hadn’t even realized it, but he had been busy with Julia all day that by the time he got free time. He thought-

“You gonna let me talk now, Human?” he used the pet-name he coined for you. “I don’t love Julia. And I wasn’t flirting with her because I don’t love you.”

“Huh?”

“She was doing my English Lit. paper and I had to make her think she was worth my time.” he explained. “She had to think I was actually interested in her or else she’d make a scene. She knew what this exchange was. A litle bit of attention and that A+ was as good as mine. I passed by the way.” he winked.

“S-so, you don’t love her?” you wiped your eyes.

“Of course not! How many times have I told you that my heart only belongs to you?” He asked. “Idiot.” he shook his head with an amused smile. “As if that plain, lowly human could ever compare to my own personal descendant of the goddeses that made this wicked world.” he bit his lip.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was running out of time. I would have told you, had you sat with me at lunch today.” he rolled his eyes. “...Y/N, please accept my deepest apology. I wouldn’t hurt you...unless you asked.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the last part. “Now come here.”

He grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him, taking you in a long drawn out kiss. He purposefully moaned in your mouth, laughing maniacally through each peck.

“Me, and that disgusting excuse- how laughable.” he began kissing down your neck. “I guess I’ll have to show you that you’re mine and will only ever be mine.”

“Ayato~” you whimpered.

“Shush.” he kissed you again. “ Fuck! “ he kept kissing your lips “You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours. .” He backed you up towards the bed. “Usually I’d ask you to suck my dick first, but I want everything to be about you.” he made you sit down. “Aww, you didn’t take off your uniform, so I can take your panties off right now.” he smirked.

Had he lost his mind?!?

“Have you lost your mind?!?” your legs shook as your panties were discarded who knew where.

“I’ve always wanted to defile you while you were wearing it, so you can think of me every single time you put it on. Mmmmff-” he buried his head between your legs, exploring your depths with his tongue.

You took in a sharp breath, instantly arching your back in his favor. Good, that was his invitation to go forward. “Y/N, you taste so fucking good-” he laughed gleefully. “I wanna bite your clit and taste the blood right from your naughty place.” he moaned, lashing his tongue against your heat.

“Ayato, It feels so-” you mewled. “M-more, please?”

Hearing this, he went feral. He dug his nails into your thighs, sucking harshly at your slit. You had to hold the back of his head to stay vertical, your hands tangled through his lush hair.

“ That’s it, grab my hair. Yank it, pull me back into your pussy-mmm. “ he couldn’t even finish his sentence. He was so hungry that not even a snide comment could leave his lips while he tasted you. He’d never do this with anyone else, love anyone else. He was having too much fun worshipping his beautiful human.

“Ayato- I’m gonna c-cu-”

“Cum. Let me taste you. Let me feel it against me, let me drive my fangs into your thighs while you cum so you can feel what true ecstasy feels like.”

You felt yourself unravel, only to feel those fangs dig into your left thigh. “Ungh! Ayato!!” you cried.

“Fuck, Y/N.” he lapped up your blood. “It tastes even better when you’re cumming.” he bit his lip. “I wanna feel you wrap around me.” he crawled over you, capturing your mouth in a long, messy kiss.

You were surprised when he moved you two so you were straddling him. “Undo my jeans, take what’s yours, Y/N.” he bit his lips.

You shyly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled then down along with his boxers. You were welcomed by a very obvious hardon.

His cock slapped against his stomach as it was set free.

“C-can I, touch?”

“It’s yours.” he winked. “Do whatever you want to me.”

You began stroking him, coaxing a low satisfied moan from your lover. You wanted to be mean and leave him but who were you kidding, you both needed it.

“Is it too forward to ask you to ride my cock?” he asked, biting his lip. “Please?”

He caressed your thighs, coaxing you to slip his dick along the perimeter of your slit. You met his eyes, but could only shyly look away.

“Oh Goooodd-” he sucked in air as his dick slipped inside. You shy rocked your hips, coaxing another moan out of him. His hands rested on your thighs. “Shit, Y/N, Why are you so fucking- Ungh...Shit I can’t take much more.” he thrusted his hips upwards.

A small gasp hitched in your throat, followed by many as he thrust himself in and out of you. You wanted some sort of control too, so you rolled your hips even more against him. “Shit. Ayato~” you moaned. “Fuuuh-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you’re here with me.” he spoke. “Why would I NEED anyone else!” he growled. “You’re mine! I’m Yours, that’s how to fuck it should be!” he seethed. “Fuck your pussy feels so good.”

He was absolutely right, you didn’t think even washing this uniform would get his essence out of it.

“Shit!!” Ayato threw his head back, moaning like you had never seen him moan before. You didn’t even think he could even make such a face. “Y/N!!! “ he cried. “I fucking love you so much, Fuck, S-shit!! Fuck say it back, please.”

“Ayato,” you felt his cock twitch inside. “I love you-haah-aah!”

“ How do you ride me so good? God damn, you’re gonna break me! “ he cried, digging his nails into your thighs. “Fuck Y/N this is what you to do me!!”

You both were loud, sensitive, and on the brinK of breaking.

“I’m gonna CU---AAAHH FUUCCK!” you felt his warmth spill inside you. You were taken aback by him wrapped a hand around your neck and pulling you down to kiss you abruptly. He moaned loudly into your mouth, crying in euphoria as he bottomed out inside your wetness.

“Y/N!” he cried once more. “Fuck I love you.” his face twisted in pleasure, those usually stern eyebrows going soft. “I fucking love you. My human, My only human~.” he hugged you close.

“Ayato~” you replied just as wantonly. “I love you.” you whimpered.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for ignoring me today, now it’s my turn to get revenge.” you heard his breathless laugh. “Shall we continue?”

(I.....AM SO SORRY FOR THIS)

811 notes · View notes

jangofctts · 4 years ago

Text

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace.

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy.

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it.

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.”

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.”

You smile. “Lovely.”

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.

-=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality.

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.”

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home.

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare.

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement.

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors.

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.”

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot.

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away.

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle.

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder.

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.”

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.”

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat.

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind.

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile.

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll.

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak.

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement.

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses.

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short.

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more.

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains.

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself.

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist. Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes.

Fuck yeah.

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock.

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh.

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge.

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.”

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation.

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.”

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark.

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now.

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs.

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question.

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command.

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff.

Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight.

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you.

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

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

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.”

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.”

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.”

There we go.

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes.

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness.

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile.

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep.

taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeaches @pettyprocrastination @nelba @beskars @jango-fettish @corrupt-fvcker @maybege @auty-ren @legally-a-bastard @bigdickdindjarin @thesparkleslugs @cryptid-candy @mandowhorian @pascaliprincess @mitchi-c @vesperstalksclones @cmakars @cptnbvcks @whewchiles @leias-left-hair-bun @astrochellie @angryares @rise-my-angel @stardust-galaxies @phoenixhalliwell @samhollandssweaters @blue-writes-a03 @hdlynnslibrary @darthadeline @calamity-queen @luxurybeskar @justanotherblonde23 @book-hoardingdragon @fahrenheit-not @princessxkenobi @skdubbs @ben-is-a-hoe @3strogen @chasingdreamer @weebblossom @bobaandthefetts

sorry if I missed you AH!!!!

#well yall im #bucket fucker supreme right here I guess #enJOY #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #boba fett x reader x din djarin #din djarin x reader x boba fett #star wars fanfiction #my writing

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edenmemes · 4 years ago

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misc poetry sentence starters

❝ one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people. ❞ ❝ you remind me what love lives in this skin. ❞ ❝ you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream. ❞ ❝ i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible. ❞ ❝ the world was made so we can find each other in it. ❞ ❝ the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer. ❞ ❝ i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you. ❞ ❝ is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you? ❞ ❝ against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness. ❞ ❝ the world grows green again when you smile. ❞ ❝ your share of pains would fill a sea. ❞ ❝ i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people. ❞ ❝ what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute. ❞ ❝ i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling. ❞ ❝ the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure. ❞ ❝ you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that. ❞ ❝ i did violence to my own heart. ❞ ❝ i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth. ❞ ❝ like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages. ❞ ❝ and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue. ❞ ❝ you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry. only the sun has come this close, only the sun. ❞ ❝ sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined. ❞ ❝ when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours? ❞ ❝ i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know. ❞ ❝ i had it all and i want it back again. ❞ ❝ i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual. ❞ ❝ we are two reflections that cross swords with each other. ❞ ❝ as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off. ❞ ❝ do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better? ❞ ❝ my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame. ❞ ❝ i am three oceans away from my soul. ❞ ❝ you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me. ❞ ❝ i went to sleep last night so i could see you. ❞ ❝ even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods. ❞ ❝ how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder? ❞ ❝ it does me no good to be good to me now. ❞ ❝ i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me. ❞ ❝ i must clothe myself in other worlds. ❞ ❝ suffering is the privilege of those who feel. ❞ ❝ sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine. ❞ ❝ the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything. ❞ ❝ i can be bold, because i have you with me always. ❞ ❝ you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind. ❞ ❝ not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone. ❞ ❝ i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted. ❞ ❝ you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed. ❞ ❝ there’s something electric in your blood. ❞ ❝ you say you are broken, but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light. ❞ ❝ time doesn’t obey our commands. ❞ ❝ i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy. ❞ ❝ to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked. ❞ ❝ i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite. ❞ ❝ and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back. ❞ ❝ i am less a god now that you’ve touched me. ❞ ❝ your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart. ❞ ❝ you said i killed you --- haunt me then. ❞ ❝ your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like. ❞ ❝ you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it. ❞ ❝ strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty. ❞ ❝ you will hear thunder and remember me. ❞ ❝ ever think it’s possible for us to be happy? ❞ ❝ and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you. ❞ ❝ since we’re bound to be something, why not together? ❞ ❝ i am ashes were once i was fire. ❞ ❝ this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours. ❞ ❝ it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness. ❞ ❝ kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark. ❞ ❝ i have thought of you often since the darkness. ❞ ❝ with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant. ❞ ❝ there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash. ❞ ❝ open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am. ❞ ❝ what the hell is tragedy? i am. ❞ ❝ i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind. ❞ ❝ how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break. ❞ ❝ so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again. ❞ ❝ i am myself. that is not enough. ❞ ❝ i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness. ❞ ❝ my power, which to me is still a curse --- ❞ ❝ ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart. ❞ ❝ do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light? ❞ ❝ i like you; your eyes are full of language. ❞ ❝ let me tell you what i do know. i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good. ❞ ❝ you are the cause and the cure --- both. ❞ ❝ i have kisses for the back of your neck. ❞ ❝ your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel. ❞ ❝ we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn. ❞ ❝ suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys. ❞ ❝ lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer. ❞ ❝ and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness. ❞ ❝ since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark. ❞ ❝ i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still. ❞ ❝ you move like the moon. ❞ ❝ my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears. ❞ ❝ in your eyes, the fires of twilight. ❞ ❝ do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you. ❞ ❝ i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood. ❞ ❝ you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one. ❞ ❝ you are not real. you are a dream of a dream. ❞ ❝ there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you. ❞ ❝ i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature. ❞ ❝ come this evening --- i am eager for stars. ❞ ❝ i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name. ❞ ❝ i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming. ❞ ❝ to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive. ❞ ❝ i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised. ❞ ❝ it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger. ❞ ❝ i live --- but i’m mutilated. ❞ ❝ if there is a light then i am going to swallow it. if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry. ❞ ❝ i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other. ❞ ❝ you will open your wounds and make them a garden. ❞ ❝ i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt. ❞ ❝ i planted roses, but without you they were thorns. ❞ ❝ everything inside me is in revolt. ❞ ❝ how this darkness soaks me through and through. ❞ ❝ give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me. ❞ ❝ say something dangerous like i love you. ❞ ❝ listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? ❞ ❝ in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love. ❞ ❝ breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you. ❞ ❝ my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides. ❞ ❝ you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts. ❞ ❝ gods are stubborn. so am i. ❞ ❝ is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured? ❞ ❝ there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting. ❞ ❝ beware. beware. there is a tenderness. ❞ ❝ half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood. ❞ ❝ i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me. ❞ ❝ you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth. ❞ ❝ i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places. ❞ ❝ my mouth still houses century-old magic. in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god. ❞ ❝ keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. ❞ ❝ i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry. ❞ ❝ this skin is sick with loneliness. ❞ ❝ memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me. ❞ ❝ i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most. ❞ ❝ after fury, what do you do with the remains? ❞ ❝ come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it. ❞ ❝ let’s admit, without apology, what we do together. ❞ ❝ try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it. ❞ ❝ it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations. ❞ ❝ i am too full of life to be half-loved. ❞ ❝ today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling. ❞ ❝ there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love. ❞ ❝ heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile. ❞ ❝ my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell. ❞ ❝ will you see the human in my being? ❞ ❝ if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever. ❞ ❝ part broken part whole, you begin again. ❞ ❝ i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you. ❞ ❝ i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness? ❞ ❝ whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you. ❞ ❝ i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine. ❞ ❝ i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is. ❞ ❝ i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i. ❞ ❝ do i not live? badly, i know, but i live. ❞ ❝ something of you stuck with me. a splinter. ❞ ❝ i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos. ❞ ❝ sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will. ❞ ❝ my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me. ❞ ❝ i had an old wound once, but it is healing. ❞ ❝ always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that... ❞ ❝ when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you. ❞ ❝ dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul. ❞ ❝ am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person? ❞ ❝ i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins. ❞ ❝ sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #long post for ts /#ill most likely add some more soon <3

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xx-narcissa · 3 years ago

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Handsome Stranger

warnings: cheating, alcohol, slight violence

a/n: i can’t get enough of ikaris….. idc what the prompt is just give me ikarisssssss. and sorry if the end is a little cheesy, i’m just tired and i want to write something stupidly happy for once

pairing: Ikaris x Black!Reader

summary: Your ‘knight in shining armor’ saves you from quite possibly the worst decision you’ll ever make. (Set in 1960s New York)

disclaimer: i obviously don’t know what life was like in 1960, because i obviously have not lived in that time and im not about to ask my grandma what it was like just to write fan fiction. so if anything is inaccurate, i apologize and please point it out in a respectful way so i can see if i can fix it.

masterlist

(not my gif)

The music was loud and it seemed like the chatter was louder. Yet all these noises were drowned out as you felt the impending doom resulted by your inability—and fear— to say no. Your friends wanted a fun night out, celebrate you all being unmarried. Since you know, you’re going to be married pretty soon. They were winking at all the nice looking young men, while you were just dreading going home.

“Excuse me for a minute, I’m just gone go to the bathroom.” You excused yourself from your friends and headed towards the exit, figuring you’ll just apologize and explain the next time you guys got together. You just had to get out of there, the atmosphere was overwhelmingly stuffy.

As the chill, night air hit your dark skin, you wondered what your life was going to be like. When you were a young girl, people always told you you were so so pretty, so you’d have a nice husband and have some pretty kids and be a pretty little wife. You didn’t even mind the thought of having a husband and a family. If anything, it was your dream to have a nice family. Grow old with the man of your dreams, watch your kids grow and marry and start the cycle again.

And you were so close to having that too. But this wasn’t the man of your dreams. If anything he was the man of your nightmares.

Always drinking, always whining and nagging and complaining. ‘The chicken’s dry’ ‘The blanket’s cold’ ‘My feet hurt’. It wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t every minute of every day. When he wasn’t working, he was home bothering you. Which is the only reason why you joined some knitting club and met your now friends. Who weren’t even that much of your friends. Just some women you gossiped with and ate lunch with to keep you busy.

Too busy wishing you could turn back time and relive your life, you weren’t paying attention to what was in front of you. Most people could tell you were lost in thought, and moved out of the way, but it seems you weren’t the only one stuck in your head. You shook your head and registered what just happened.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.” The man you had ran into extended his hand out for you, and you took it without thinking.

You stood straight and dusted yourself off, and looked up to get a good look at the man. His blue eyes stuck out to right away. Then his sharp defined jaw and the stubble that covered it. Next his hair, and the one small blonde streak. “I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise.”

He laughed and gave you a once over, as if you were sizing each other up. “No, no. It’s alright. I guess we both just weren’t paying attention. But, uhm,” He cleared his throat and got lost in your dark brown eyes, “What’s your name? I can’t help but notice that you’re just, so beautiful, and I’ve got to know more.”

A smile creeped onto your lips at his compliment and you had to remind yourself that you were an almost married woman. “I’m (Y/N). And what’s your name, Mr. Handsome?” Oh, no going back from that one.

But it got a smile out of him, and that was enough for you to not immediately walk away. “I don’t know, I think it’s a little more interesting if I don’t tell you. Keep it a secret.” He reached out and brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face. “But I’d love to tell you over a drink.”

Forget that stupid fiancé of yours. You were about to catch yourself a white man.

“Of course. Why don’t we meet back at this very spot tomorrow, at 5?”

“Sounds like a date, (Y/N).”

-=-

The two of you walked down the street with interlocked hands as you searched for a suitable place for your date. You got stares, but you didn’t care and neither did he. You guys were just basking in each other’s presence, even if you met yesterday and you didn’t know his name. But things just felt right with him.

He found some quaint little coffee shop, and brought you inside. As you enjoyed your cup, letting the warm drink soothe your insides, you noticed him watching you with a ravishing curiosity.

“What? Did I spill any on my dress? Shoot, this is my sisters dress.” You put down the cup and began searching the light blue dress for any stains.

“No, you haven’t spilled anything. I’m just admiring you. The dress really matches well with your skin. And I’m just trying to learn more about you. You can learn a lot about someone from their body language, and I can tell you’re a very interesting character.” He smiled as you tried to avert your eyes from his gaze, but somehow they always ended up looking back up at him.

Eventually, you stopped trying to fight it, and the two of you just made eye contact. Neither one of you daring to blink or speak. “You know how else you can learn about someone? Their name. Unless I’m meant to just call you ‘The Handsome Stranger’ the rest of my life.” You decided you’d take charge and break the tense, yet strangely comforting, silence.

“Rest of your life? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were hinting at wanting to spend the rest of your life with me.”

He kept finding ways to be slick and twist your words back at you. It’s rather annoying, but it seems like a trait you may just grow to admire. “Maybe. If I knew your name. I mean, I couldn’t marry a man if I didn’t know his name. What would I do if I needed you? Scream?”

“Sure. I’d come rushing in to see what would be the matter. And even if nothing’s wrong, I’d still get to see your beautiful face again.”

“Such a charmer.” Your tone indicated sarcasm, but you meant it. He was very charming. Very bold. Different. At least different than what you’re used to. But a good different. All the other men you’ve talked to all were shy and too afraid to simply be straight with you and get to the point. And while some people like that, others don’t. You fall into the latter category apparently.

But this man in front of you, you liked him. He was different than the rest and you wanted him. And if he was going to play this type of game with you, then you were going to play right alongside him. It does take two to tango after all.

-=-

For the next week, you saw this man everyday. On that same street corner at the same time, 5 o’clock. It was Friday again, making this officially a week since you first met him. Every second when you were with him, he managed to find new ways to take your breath away. Sometimes literally. On Wednesday, it began to rain while you walked through the park, and he gave you his jacket to cover yourself. You thought that was the end of that, until he picked you up and ran to find you some cover. It had caught you by surprise, momentarily knocking the wind out of you.

Today, you were at the street corner, waiting for him. It was 5:10, and he was never usually late. And he always came from a different direction every time, so it’s not like you knew where to look for him. You got excited when you felt a tap on your shoulder, but the excitement quickly faded when you turned around and saw John, your fiancé, staring you down. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, me? I’m-I’m just waiting for the girls. That’s it.” You stammered, trying not to appear guilty.

He looked you up and down and scoffed before digging into his coat pocket and pulling out a flask. “Well, I’m off early today. Somethin’ weird goin’ on at factory. Had to shut everything down. I was just on my way home and I seen you. Your friends can wait, let’s go home and spend some time together. It seems like we never do that anymore.”

John took a big gulp of his flask and frowned, shaking it to check if it was really empty. He sighed as he closed it and put it back, then focusing on you again. Great, he was drunk. He was always worse when he was drunk. “Oh, (Y/N). It’s like I never see you anymore. I’m always workin’ and you always with your friends. Let’s just be together. I mean, we’re getting married! We should act like it for once.” He grabbed your arm and tried to pull you with him, but you fought against him with everything in you, being careful not to make too much of a scene.

“No, John. I don’t want to go with you.” His eye twitched at your defiance, and you took a few steps back. “M-me and the girls have been planning this for some time now. So another time, alright? Not today. I’m busy, can’t you see? Go home!” He didn’t like it when you raised your voice at him.

He shoved you down and began pacing back and forth, ignoring the stares and gasps and whispers as everything began to unfold. “Jesus, (Y/N). Why you always wanna try and be tough? Can’t you just shut up and listen to what you’re told? Or maybe stop leaving the house. Just stay home, do chores, and look pretty like you’re s’posed to. I ain’t marrying you for you to do all this. I’m marrying you for your pretty face and your nice body. And you know that too. Don’t act like I’m the bad guy.”

You did. You did know that. From the moment he asked you to be his wife you knew he didn’t love you for you. He never did. But you said yes anyways. John scared you. And so did your family. They loved John so much, you didn’t want to be disowned or anything for refusing him.

Even though you knew that, it didn’t mean you wanted him to throw it back at you in public like this. This was humiliating.

And there was nothing you could do. So you sat on the ground, holding back tears as he ranted about all the things you couldn’t do, or you didn’t do, or whatever else he could find reason to be mad at.

You closed your eyes and just let him talk. But eventually, his voice stopped. As you slowly opened your eyes, you saw why.

Him.

He stood tall over John, looking down at him menacingly. “Is there a problem?”

“Uh, no sir. Me and my fiancée here was just leaving. Didn’t mean to cause a fuss, sir.” John lost all his composure in the man’s presence. His tough and hard exterior immediately turning into liquid. You got up quickly and prepared to get berated by him, since you didn’t tell him about John, and chances are he heard the whole thing. But he didn’t do that. He softly grabbed your arm, pulling you to his side and away from John. “‘Scuse me, sir, but that’s my lady you’re touching on. And I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t touch her no more.”

John tried to look intimidating, but it just didn’t work. He always thought that since he grew up in the south, it made him tough and invincible or something like that. And now he was about to get his ass handed to him. Oh lord. He swung at the taller man, who simply stepped to the side, causing John to stumble forward.

“Are you alright?”

You looked up at him and realized he was talking to you. Too shaken up for words, you nodded quickly. “Come on, I won’t let him bother you anymore.” John was still making a fool of himself, trying to hit the other man, mumbling about him being a wife stealer or something stupid like that.

He moved his hand from your arm to your hand, squeezing it gently and pulling you along the sidewalk. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Was he mad at you? Upset that you didn’t tell him? Maybe he was just waiting until you were somewhere more private before he yelled at you. The silence was killing you, and you needed to know.

But he stopped. So you stopped. Looking at your surroundings, you realized you knew where you were. This was only a few buildings away from where you meet up with your friends every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. He’s been here the whole time and you didn’t even know it.

He brought you inside and to the fourth floor, and into his apartment. It was nice, not too spacious, but enough for him and a guest. The first thing you did was look to see if his name was anywhere, but it wasn’t.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I know you didn’t tell me for a reason.” He let your hand go and dusted off your dress for you. “And I apologize for being late. The man downstairs loves to talk, so I got caught up.”

Even though he said you didn’t have to tell him, you still wanted to. He’s been nothing but kind to you, and you felt that he deserved an explanation. “That man, John, is my fiancé. He asked me to marry him three weeks ago. I should’ve said no, but I was scared. He’d have done way worse than just push me on the ground. And if he didn’t, my family would. John has money, he has charm, my family fought so hard for us to be together. But none of them had my best interest in mind. They don’t care about me. Not like you do, I know you do. And I care for you too, so I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I wanted to! I just was scared.”

He smiled and cupped your cheeks, pulling you up towards him. His soft lips met yours, and everything felt right. It was if all the stars had aligned just for you in this very moment. Sparks flew, and the butterflies built up until your stomach until they felt like they were going to burst. He made you feel all these cliche emotions without even telling you his name.

“Ikaris.” He pulled away and whispered. You simply stared at him, confused. “My name is Ikaris. So when we’re married and you need me, that’s what you can say.” You smiled, yet it looked a little weird since he was still squeezing your face. Your hands flew to his neck and pulled him back towards you.

But just before your lips connected again, you spoke, “I love you, Ikaris.” You didn’t care how long it had been. You didn’t care about John. This was the man you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.

He hesitated, images of a past lover flashing through his mind. You thought you had messed up. Spoken too soon. The last thing you wanted to do was rush him into something he wasn’t ready for.

But he was ready, and he was going to show you. His hands moved from your face to your hips, and your lips connected in a flurry of emotions once again.

#ikaris x reader #ikaris x black!reader #ikaris #eternals #marvel #black!reader

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cdroloisms · 3 years ago

Note

TW; Death mentioned

I had this thought, I was watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame and remember in the beginning where the Gypsy mother ran to the church and claimed sanctuary, but she died on the church steps

What if c!Dream either was let out of the prison or escaped and c!sam chased him down (for whatever reason you want) and Dream runs to church prime in the Holy Land, claiming sanctuary, and maybe Sam accidentally kills Dream on that land in front of the church

this was a FUN ask, anon, sorry it took so long for me to get to it

tw: DEATH, DEREALIZATION, religious themes, blood, grief, vomit, murder, violence, implied torture/abuse, dark themes, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault

To be honest, when George opens his eyes, he has no idea if he’s awake or not.

This has become an...alarmingly common occurrence. He’d been bothered by it at the beginning, had spent hours stuck in his own head, dropping and picking up items, counting forwards and backwards, seeking any sign possible that what he was looking at was real and not just a figment of his own dreams. In the end, it’d all been for nothing; he would be 100% sure in reality, that what he was looking at was the real world, only for it to dissolve into shadow and himself back to lying on that same bed in the middle of nowhere that he’d never remembered lying down in. At some point, he must’ve just...given up. It’s not like the dreams were unpleasant; they were the exact opposite, most of the time. Unlike that one reality-bending fit of wakefulness that had ended in him boxed in by lava in the middle of a chamber of red, one that wasn’t a dream, surprisingly enough, his dreams are usually just- normal. He goes to his field, harvests some wheat. Talks to Quackity and Sapnap and Karl, though he’s almost certain he’s not talked to any of the three in a long time in the waking world. Sometimes, he’ll even be visited by a god wearing Dream’s face, XD, though sometimes XD is there in the real world, too, so they’re hardly a determining factor. If he’s really lucky, in the dreams, he’ll even see Dream.

Dream, as he remembers him, not as the monster he’s been told he became. Once, the dream had even dropped in the flustered, confused form of Dream from the beginning of the server, all fluffed up hair and boyish joy. Usually, he’ll see a Dream that’s been let out the prison, hale and whole and sheepish, stuttering through brief apologies and hugging him in that overeager way that makes his ribs ache and then the three of them, for the lack of better words, prance off into the sunset without a worry in their minds.

And then he wakes up.

George rubs at his eyes, looks up at the sky to reorient himself; it looks real. It feels real. The sun is warm on his skin, the grass still wet with dew from the morning, brushing against his ankles as he stands up. He’s in the area behind Punz’s house, his walls and towers looming in front of him, and George blows a breath through his teeth as he goes towards the direction of the Prime Path. There’s no knowing if this is a dream or reality, but either way, standing in one place does nothing for him. Better to get the rest of the day over with than to waste it here.

He’s not even halfway to the Prime Path when sirens sound on the horizon, giving him pause. That’s never happened before. They’re loud, and shrill, and something niggles at the back of his head in a vague sense of familiarity, begging for him to understand and take note. He frowns, and picks up the pace- if he gets on the Path, he might get a better idea of what’s going on. At the very least, if there’s something dangerous, his best bet is the Holy Land.

Surprisingly enough, when he gets there, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around, only the consistent drone of sirens on the horizon. George strains his eyes along both sides of the path; nobody comes, or speaks, or makes their presence known. There’s only George, alone. It’s strangely eerie.

Is this a dream? he considers briefly, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter.

It’s another several minutes before anything changes. He stands there, at the edge of the Holy Land, until he hears a faint clamor that draws his attention, prompts him to edge forward along the path. The sound, starting faint, quickly swells in volume, underscored by the hum of the siren still ringing in the distance.

First come the shouts, overlapping, too muffled for George to quite pick the words out between the sounds. Then come the footsteps, low and rumbling, making the path creak and shudder. Then-

“Get him!”

George watches, eyes wide behind his goggles, as a dull orange blur reaches the crest of the hill and stumbles down it in a dead sprint, not paying him a second glance as they swing under the arched entrance to the Holy Land to enter within it. They collapse into a heap on the quartz steps- and oh, that’s blood seeping out of them, staining the white red, their hands tight on the stairs as a shivering string of sounds leave their crimson-speckled lips. Their face turns towards him, unseeing, and George feels something splinter, irreparably, in his chest, because that’s Dream.

He’s dreamed about Dream a lot, but never like this. Never injured, like this, face hollow and haunted, scars splitting his skin into shards. The wheezes in his dreams had always been from laughter, not this seething, spitting rattle that emerges from his chest, worryingly wet and irregular. He’s collapsed on the bottom steps of Church Prime, legs bent strangely in a way that must be uncomfortable against the ground, arms resting against the edges of the stairs, all skin and bone and still-bleeding cuts, and he looks like he’ll never be able to stand up again.

“Please, please, pl-please,” he stutters through his sobs, meaningless begs and platitudes falling on George’s ears and making him cringe back at the sound, “please-” and George doesn’t quite know what he’s begging for, doesn’t know what has left his friend in a ruin on the ground, leaving bloodstains on the stone, but the words worm under his skin and into his skull and refuse to leave. Footsteps continue to pound on the path behind him; George turns around, gasps at the sight of two figures, fully in enchanted netherite, thundering over the wood and into the Holy Land.

“What-”

“There!” The voice is rough but familiar, and the figures dash over to where Dream is lying, defenseless. His pleads rise in pitch and volume, becoming almost unbearable to listen to, and there’s an angry clamor of voices and an awful, wet crack and a shrill scream-

Silence.

“Holy fuck-” George’s head is spinning, the voice finally registering- that’s Quackity, stance wide, a sword in his hand. Beside him, tall and imposing, stands Sam, his full set of Warden armor shining brilliantly under the still-rising sun. His hands are wrapped around his trident, gleaming cyan, the end speared straight through Dream’s chest.

“You killed him,” Quackity hisses, head raising and only then meeting George’s eyes. “Sam- what are we going to- you killed him.”

“I-” Sam shakes his head. “I had to, he was going to get away-”

“Sam-” Quackity’s voice pitches higher, more desperate, “Sam, did you- oh fuck, we’re in the Holy Land-”

The air shatters.

That, at least, seems to be the only way to describe what happens; George watches, breathless, as the air shimmers and warps unnaturally, the way his dreams do right before he wakes up, only centralized in the Church entrance instead of surrounding him on all sides. Blood continues to run down the stairs, stark against the pure white of the quartz, so dark it almost seems black. The ripple clarifies, deepens; there’s a sound like ripping fabric, and something carves a tear through what seems to be existence itself. Behind, there’s a starless void, alluring, wanting, calling, dark and deep and everlasting and the End this is The End-

A whirl of white and green and gold, and the tear is gone, leaving something entirely other in its wake. George shivers in his place; he thought that he’s seen XD angry, before, remembers vividly the feeling of being chased, the God’s voice calling after him as he shut the doors of Punz’s house behind him. He remembers the way their voice had glitched, growing deeper and distorted, the rage with which they had growled at him when they thought they were being used.

That all pales in comparison to this. That was all nothing compared to this.

“YOU-” the deity booms, voice echoing and crackling and rolling like thunder and cracking ice and the roar of the ocean on the sand, making George clamp his hands to his ears in vain. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

George remembers being uncomfortable, back then, at how inhuman XD had seemed. Their jokes, gory and violent and startling, their idea of a prank being playing with people like dolls subject to their whims. It had taken him a while to really seem to get the God and for the God to understand him in turn, a while for him to understand that ignorance did not mean malice, that even a God that had never once known mortality could be so startlingly human. Here, their wings spread over them, seeming large enough to block out the sun, something dark and writhing behind the mask they wear, a sourceless wind howling around their robes and battering against the walls with aimless fury, George is reminded by how powerful they really are. That they are still eldritch, still a God, that they will not hesitate to judge those below him, the ones that they stare at, now, helpless and mortal and trapped within their gaze.

Sam stumbles back on the church steps, grip loosening on his trident. It continues to stick up out of Dream’s unmoving body, splattered with blood halfway up the handle.

“Oh no-” he hisses, and Quackity backs away with him, “no, no no I didn’t want to kill him,”

“THIS DOMAIN IS MINE.” Anyone else and it might’ve sounded petulant, childish. Here, with the deity’s fury directed on the two of them, even on the sidelines all George can feel is terror. “YOU HAVE TAKEN A LIFE UNDER MY PROTECTION, MORTALS.”

“Sam,” Quackity’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Sam, we gotta- we gotta run-”

“WHERE WILL YOU GO, LITTLE MORTAL?” XD disappears, then flashes back into existence at the Holy Land entrance, making Quackity and Sam shriek with their escape route blocked. “YOU HAVE ABUSED THE AUTHORITY YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN AND DESTROYED WHAT WAS NOT YOURS TO BREAK. YOU HAVE PURSUED POWER BEYOND YOUR UNDERSTANDING AND OUTSIDE YOUR POSSESSION. YOU HAVE ENTERED MY DOMAIN, MY REALM. DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU SHALL LEAVE UNPUNISHED?”

“XD,” Sam shouts, and thunder cracks overhead.

“A LIFE FOR A LIFE,” XD rumbles, their words final, and in the end, just as every other time, all George can do when the world ends is watch. Lightning spears to the ground, striking both Sam and Quackity with twin flashes of brilliant white, striking from a clear blue sky. The air sparks from the power, charged with static electricity and making George’s hair stand on end; thunder claps, seems to shatter the world into two as they disappear in twin shrieks and the smell of burned flesh. Just as quick as it happens, it ends, and George is once again left alone in the Holy Land, vomit clawing up his throat and tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he dry-heaves into the grass.

“XD,” he more begs than says, eyes fixed on Dream, still lying too-still on the church stairs. The deity turns to him, their face strangely blank. “XD, please- please tell me this is a dream.”

“Would that make you happy, George?” the god replies, and George sobs, face collapsing into his hands.

“Please, XD, please tell me- please tell me this isn’t real, please-”

“I don’t understand, George. Would that ease your distress?”

“XD- THIS CAN’T BE REAL- THIS- I-” George sinks to the ground. “He- he was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to come back, he wasn’t-” he grips their robes within his hands. “Please, XD, you can bring him back, please bring him back- this has to be a dream, he can’t be- he can’t be dead-”

Through his cries, the sirens continue to wail.

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mackeydoodledoo · 4 years ago

Text

The Blacksmith Chpt. 1

Pairing: Dimitrescus x (Fem!)Reader/Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You are a human, a human who is in charge of the armory; polishing, blacksmithing you name it. You are strongly valued by the Dimitrescu family, specifically one that has strawberry-blonde hair. She’d always come visit you whenever you’d be working on a new piece of armor or weapon.

Warnings: Fight; ends slightly bloody, Fluff at the end

A/N: So, I’m obsessed with armor n such and hearing that there’s an armory when you fight Cassandra.... So, we are making a story about a Blacksmith falling for one of the Dimitrescu daughters!

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

You wipe the sweat from your forehead as you dip the blade you’ve been working on that Heisenberg had requested into a barrel of water.

“Is it just hot in here or is that just you?” A familiar voice flirts at you

You place the now cooled blade down onto a table as you turn to see Daniela standing in the doorway, checking you out. You wipe more sweat off your forehead. You notice Daniela giggling.

“What?” You ask

“You got a little something there-” Daniela says, “Here, I’ll get it.”

Daniela takes out a white handkerchief from one of her pockets and wipes your forehead, noticing the black smudge now left on it. Your eyes widen in embarrassment. However you just watch Daniela smell your sweaty scent on her handkerchief.

“You know my sweat is on there right?” You could only ask

“I know,” Daniela moans from your scent left on her handkerchief, “Your scent smells so good.”

You blush at the compliment.

“Oh the little baby is blushing,” Daniela says, “I make everyone blush.”

“Oh- it’s just because-it’s just because it’s hot in here,” You say, trying to play it off

“Sure little baby,” Daniela whispers, “Will I see you for dinner tonight love?”

You nod, not being able to have any words come out of your mouth. She lets out another giggle and makes her exit however, Heisenberg rolls in before Daniela could make her leave.

“Uncle Heisenberg!” Daniela smiles, hugging him

“How’s my niece doing?” He asks

You watch Daniela take her leave from the armory. However, coming back to reality, you grab the blade you have been working on and present it to him.

“My liege,” You greet Heisenberg, “The end result as of right now. If this is the shape you’re going for, then I’ll hop right onto the final stages of its production.”

Heisenberg requested for a longsword. However, as it had required for you to smelt more metal for the sword itself, you had to use a full armor set to melt it down to the mold of the blade, as much as you had been against the idea. However, Alcina had given the entire armory at your disposal. However, it did not help that you had to use one of your own metals rather than Heisenberg giving you some to make the longsword with. You have made the hilt of the sword when he first commissioned the sword to be made.

“Your work is as great as ever y/n,” He smiles, “Do what you must, but make sure to have it ready by the same time the day after tomorrow.”

He takes his leave from the armory.

Tomorrow night?! But that’ll mean- I told Lady Daniela that I-... It can’t be helped I guess...

Almost immediately you took the dull blade and went over to the sander to sharpen it and polish it from its outer crust, slowly forgetting your agreement with Daniela about joining her and her family for supper.

At the dinner table, Daniela continuously looked into the seat next to her; empty. She had told her sisters and mother she’d invite the blacksmith to supper however, you were still cooped up in your armory room.

“Dani, you haven’t touched your food at all,” Cassandra states, but quietly, “It’s gonna get cold if you don’t eat it.”

“I’ve asked y/n to join us for dinner,” Daniela sulks, “She’s always so coped up in the armory. I’m kind of getting tired of bringing her food..”

“Heisenberg is really working that poor girl,” Alcina sighs, “That fool... He’s ‘tech-savvy’ they call it? Why couldn’t he just do it himself?”

“Y/n is the best blacksmith, It kind of makes sense why he’d ask for y/n,” Bela states, “That is why we hired her personally as well mother did we not?”

“Oh you are most correct,” Alcina agrees with her eldest daughter, “It’s just she’s been cooped up in there for so long. I’d hate for someone as young as her be burning the midnight oil for one single sword...”

“I’ll go check on her after supper I guess,” Daniea says, shamefully, “I apologize for this mother...”

“There is no need for an apology my daughter,” Alcina reassures her youngest daughter

Daniela just weakly smiles and then goes to dig into the meal that had been prepped in front of her

You didn’t realize how much time has gone by until you hear knocking at the doorframe.

“Oh, lady Daniela,” You clear your throat, removing your gloves to air out the sweat and then tearing your eyes away from your work to make eye contact with Daniela, “My apologies, I missed supper... Heisenberg needs this new blade done by-”

She puts the plate of food on a nearby table as she begins to walk toward you. You’ve truly felt bad however, you’ve been working on this item for weeks, you couldn’t just simply ‘take a break’ for it.

“There’s one reason why I wanted you to come to supper y/n,” Daniela interrupts you, “You need to get out of here and more importantly- let me see you out of this work outfit of yours..”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, your throat go dry and your legs becoming jelly. You’ve mostly worn simple ripped skinny jeans, a short-sleeve shirt; the sleeves rolled up to your shoulders and one of those aprons blacksmiths wear while they work with molten metal. You also worn gloves whilst working in the armory, showing off your toned arms from the blacksmithing you do non-stop.

“I’m no one special my lady,” You sigh, wiping sweat from your forehead again, “I’m just the blacksmith.”

“Whose created all of this amazing armor,” Daniela states, gesturing to the entire room full of armor and weapons

“Coming from a long line of blacksmiths is one perk,” You say, “But, I’m just a human, like every other human in the world.”

You could hear footsteps coming even closer into your direction. A pair of hands are forcefully placed on your shoulder and you’re physically turns into Daniela’s close proximity.

“You listen to me now y/n,” Daniela almost snarls, “You are an amazing Blacksmith. Otherwise my sisters and mother would have had you for supper already. I believe you are one of the greatest people to be working in this castle, consider it to be a privilege to be working so closely to us.”

She leans close to your ear, making you shiver, “To be working so closely to me.”

A shiver is sent down your spine. You needed to burn the midnight oil for this weapon for Heisenberg, should Daniela continue to tease you like this.

“My my, your heart is beating pretty fast love,” She whispers once more, “You’re welcome...”

You feel a finger trace your jawline, however, you feel a slight pain in your jaw as you look down and felt something wet along down your neck.

“Oh-oopsies,” Daniela says, flirting heavily

“Not funny,” You groan from the pain

“Oh-oh it’s dripping,” She continues to flirt, “I’ll get it.”

You let out a small gasp as you felt the tip of Daniela’s tongue gently run along the blood trail. She traces the blood from the thin skin of your neck to the bone of your jawline. She guides her hands to wrap around her neck. You coil one hand into her hair to keep her steady as you let out yet another gasp.

“Yes, my lovely,” Daniela whispers, “Continue making that music for me...”

Before you let out another gasp, you push her away form your neck slightly to look at her. You look down at her lips and then back up to her eyes, asking for permission. However, you stop yourself when the both of you heard the Lady Dimitrescu calling for Daniela.

“Curses,” She mumbles under her breath just as her lips were about to crash onto yours, “My my you taste divine. Until next time.”

With hast she makes her exit, turning into a swarm of flies in the process. You sit there, trying to process what just happened. However, you couldn’t linger on the thought any longer as you were just about to start the leatherwork on the hilt before Daniela began distracting you.

I wouldn’t call it a bad thing if she distracted me though... It was only for a couple of minutes and... It was... Enjoyable...

You couldn’t believe a Dimitrescu daughter had taken a liking to you. You were a simple human from a long line of the finest blacksmiths. Why you? Of all people, you weren’t special. However, someway somehow the youngest Dimitrescu was enticing to you.

I have no such time for a relationship... Besides... Lady Daniela has many other maidens to choose from... Am I even a choice to be one of their... What was it that they call them? ‘Plaything’? Yeah... Am I? Oh well, but it looks like I have to burn midnight oil again. Nothing that I don’t already experience though...

Your eyes are heavily concentrated on the leather work you’re doing on the handle. However, you could easily feel your eyes grow heavy. But, you knew you couldn’t waste time like you did earlier.

“Sir Heisenberg won’t be pleased if he catches me passed out at the table,” You sigh

You take a deep breath and shake off your tiredness and continue working on the leather handle.

By the time you finally finished the handle you take a step back to admire the work you had done

“Not a bad job if I do say so myself,” You smile

you were sketching out the design for the sheath. The sheath itself will be crafted with the thickest leather. Leather you’d normally use for sheaths; it’s so that the sheath’s won’t tear apart then the sword is sharpened. You’d also press in an intricate design you had crafted earlier when you were taking a break from the leather work.

“I guess I can close my eyes for a couple of minutes while I wait for this to ...” You tell yourself

Oh how wrong you were.... Unfortunately you didn’t catch it fast enough. By the time you had realized you took more than a couple of minutes, you were fast asleep.

The next morning you could feel a pair of lips on the bone of your cheek. When you opened your eyes you could easily tell it was Daniela.

“Morning sleepy head,” She whispers

She puts the plate of human food right next to you. The aroma of the food gets you to feel more awake.

“Can I ask you something?” Daniela asks, looking at you with pleading eyes

“Mhm,” You reply with food in your mouth

“I was wondering if you could make me one of those daggers you place on your thigh,” She requests, “But-but if that’s too much right now you could always do it after you finish-”

“I’ll do it,” You answer clearly, “The blade for Heisenberg isn’t due until tomorrow so I’ll be able to do it.”

She squeals of excitement and wraps her arms around you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You hug her back.

The first form of physical affection after awhile... This is nice

She lets go of you, but continues smiling.

“Design is solely up to you,” she says calmly, “I really want you to make it how you want to.”

You nod as Daniela takes the now empty plate from your hands. You watch her walk out from your armory you immediately jump into your closet and pull out a thick gauged metal sheet.

“Since when did you become so jittery in the morning?” A voice asks you

You let out a yelp and drop the sheet metal. You quickly turn your heel to see who it was.

“Lady Bela,” You sigh, re-composing yourself, “You really scared me there. Good lord...”

“I can do more than just scare you,” Bela chuckles, “But Daniela would be at my throat for that so consider yourself lucky.”

You see her forming into her swarm of flies. You couldn’t process what she was doing until she was up in your face.

“You hurt my baby sister, there will be hell to pay, got it?” She says, almost growling

Your throat catches something; thus, you couldn’t form any words. However, you only nod.

“Good,” She says

She dissipates into her swarm and leaves the armory. You just stand in your place for a second before picking the metal sheet back up.

You finally found yourself outside of the armory for once. If it weren’t for Daniela dragging your ass out of there you wouldn’t really be there. However, it was a silent supper for you. You really couldn’t find a way to strike up conversation with the Dimitrescu’s.

“I know you’ve been here a long time y/n, but how are you liking it?” Alcina asks, nervously

“You know, to be honest, It’s a lot nicer than where I used to live,” You smile slightly, “Yeah, I might be having a workload right now but- It’s nothing new to me.”

Alcina sighs in relief. Not knowing how to continue the conversation, you drop your head back down into your plate and continue eating. Alcina had made some arrangements so that the maids and yourself can have nutrients from human food.

After supper, you beeline it back for the armory to start on Daniela’s requested garter dagger. You didn’t have much experience in textiles, so you requested one of the maids who was more experienced in such do it for you.

“Thanks Amelia,” You say, gently taking the newly sewn garter, “I got everything else. That’s all.”

“Lady Daniela really requested for this?” She asks

“Yeah,” you say, “Interesting though right?”

“That’s one way to put it,” She says, “Be careful.”

“You too.” You say

You wipe sweat off of your forehead as you finally break your concentration on the sharpening blade. Once it had reached a certain sharpness, you begin the polishing stage.

“Finished, and now..” You talk to yourself

Although you’ve never encrusted a weapon with many gems; you only had experience with one gem going on a weapon. However, it was Lady Daniela, so you wanted to make it look like the prettiest dagger in the whole castle, prettier than all the weapons and armor you have created. You take out a special cannister and begin organizing the blue-green gem from all of the other colored gems.

You found yourself outside of Daniela’s chambers however, you weren’t sure if she was even there or out somewhere in the castle. But, you place the weapon down right in front of the bottom of the door and knock as loudly but as gently as possible and you beeline it for the shadows. From a distance, you watch the door open and see Daniela; in a nightgown. It was the first time you’ve seen Daniela without her regular dark robe and hood up in her face.

“Oh my god...” Daniela says in awe as she picks up the weapon, “Y/n...”

She tries to look around for you however doesn’t spot you on sight.

“Thank you...” She blushes as she closes the door

You blush a deep red as you turn your back to her door to head back into the armory to try and finish up Heisenberg’s weapon.

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #female reader

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wonlouvre · 3 years ago

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Hiii can i ask for a mingyu x fem!reader royal au, where the reader is more to boyish personality?

Undefeatable

pairing: prince!mingyu x g.n. reader (but they’re also royal and vagina bearing) genre: royal au, fluff, angst warnings: violence, blood word count: 1.1k (oops)

💌: here is the last request from my very first round of opening requests! thank you so much for all who participated! hopefully i get to open requests soon because your requests and ideas really made me happy! i hope you, anon, and everyone else likes this anon! thank you everyone! <3

“Aren’t we the same Prince Mingyu?” You ask with a piercing glare. “Aren’t I as royal as you are?”

“Yes. I never—”

“Then stop telling me what to do.”

That particular heated argument Mingyu had with you remains vivid inside his mind. He had no intention of ordering you around or much less offending you by questioning your value and capability. He doesn’t even remember what led you to assume such. All he ever wanted to convey was for you to lessen your engagement with combat during the war. It’s getting more and more dangerous and the chances of you coming out of there unharmed is slim to none.

You and Mingyu grew up with the knowledge that you’d marry each other someday. It was a perfect match. The two of you have both the intelligence and skills in ruling and protecting your respective kingdoms. But most importantly, the two of you have the same drive and ideals for the advancement of ending all armed conflict that’s harming thousands of innocent citizens.

Your wedding was simple and instant due to the circumstances. The marriage symbolizes the union of both kingdoms that will work together to ultimately end all wars. Both your parents have entrusted the important duty to protect the future of your people to your enjoined hands. You and Mingyu have been on the same page from the very beginning.

But for Mingyu, there is more to how he feels towards you than the ambitions at hand. He has admired you for the longest time. He fell in love with how graceful and kind you looked when you smiled at him at that one party. He fell in love with how selfless and compassionate you are in extending help to those who need them the most at one of the villages devastated by the war. And even during battles, where dirt, sweat and blood always blemishes your skin; he has never felt more in love.

Mingyu loves you and watching you everyday go all out fearlessly to fight this never ending war is scaring him to the bones. He wishes that he could have said something during that day to make you stop. He wishes you were here beside him instead because he believes there has to be some way other than violence. He’s currently strategizing with the rest of the advisors. While you’re great in formulating strategies like him, Mingyu recognizes how your combat skills are undefeatable. Mingyu is the brain and you are the whole army yourself.

He’s silent with arms crossed as he listens to the voices in the tent exchange ideas. His frown could make everyone around him think he’s in deep thought when he’s really not. The chorus of shouts and clanging sounds of metal outside sounds like there won’t be a ceasefire anytime soon.

“Your Highness!” Not until a panicked and sweating guard barges inside screaming, almost toppling over the first aid boxes at the entrance.

Mingyu can already sense that there is something wrong. He immediately unlocks his arms from his chest and walks towards the guard he’s awfully recognizing. He’s one of your guards assigned to always be right behind you. He’s about to ask what he is doing here when another group of men are shouting to move out of the way.

When they finally enter, your unconscious body and forehead profusely bleeding greets him.

Mingyu’s breath hitches and his legs give up on him that the only way he can hold you is by crawling to where your body is brought down. He takes you in his arms and wipes your blood with shaking hands to get a better look at the wound.

“They were fighting with an enemy when their neck got locked in a chokehold before getting striked with a shield,” one of the guards reports but Mingyu is deaf to the words.

He just cradles your head close to his chest as the medics rush to take care of your wound. He can see that you’re fighting the lightheadedness, definitely not backing down even at a time like this.

“Hey,” he calls and it pains him to see you struggling to open your eyes because of the blood running down your face. “It’s okay.”

“Your Highness, I’m sorry, but please let us move them to the bed.”

Mingyu nods and stands to his feet to carry your limp body on the medical bed. He moves aside when you’re completely settled and lets the medics attend to you. He exhales a shaky breath and closes his eyes, thinking and thinking. When he opens them again, he offers one last glance at you before grabbing his sword and telling your guards to follow him.

All he can see is red.

“We’re ending this war before sunrise.”

The Prince kept his word and when he returned to the tent as the sun started to rise above the horizon, you had gained your consciousness back. He meets your eyes and flashes you the smile you’re afraid you have fallen in love with. You sat up from the bed when he started taking slow steps to be near you. Your eyes follow him as he drops his sword, helmet and shield. The shirt under his armor was drenched in sweat but he could care less. All he wants is to fall on his knees and shrink small under your arms.

And as if you have read his mind, you allow his face to rest against your stomach and his arms to snake around your hips. You’re still quite dizzy but you can see him clearly. You can feel his warmth and that’s enough to make you believe that you’re alive, he’s alive.

“It’s over,” he whispers when he raises his head and sits up.

Tears are brimming on your eyes as you nod. You touch his bruised lip tentatively and he gives your fingers a kiss. He leans close to your face, nose grazing yours. A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his lips lightly touch yours. You don’t grow weak to others but when it’s Kim Mingyu, it’s a whole different story.

You take it upon yourself to fully capture his lips with yours and Mingyu is glad enough to let you. You both remain careful to not get carried away because you’re both badly wounded. But this kiss you’re sharing is passionate enough regardless of that.

When you retreat to take a closer look at the wounds on his face, Mingyu’s love for you can be seen through his gaze. Although he has avenged your forehead, he can’t help but still get bothered by the blood stained gauze wrapped around it. You notice that which is why you squish his cheeks with your hands and make his eyes come back to yours.

“I love you,” you bravely confess before apologizing, “and I’m sorry.”

Mingyu’s smile is wide and bright unlike the sinister one earlier during the battle. His canine can be seen making you smile back. He pulls your chin up and kisses you again and the words he mutters against your lips lets you breathe a breath of relief.

“I love you too.”

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mrspillow · 3 years ago

Text

Sorry (Jellal Fernandes x Reader)

"Hmm... strawberry cake..."

Suppressing a small laugh you turned your head to Erza, your best friend of childhood days that never seemed to miss the opportunity of shoving cake into her mouth.

You had seen the amounts of baked goods the redhead could swallow within minutes, not even speaking of hours, but when it came to strawberry cakes, it turned ridiculous.

"I do not know how you aren't fat already, Erza", you mused and put your chin onto your palm, still watching that food orgy of hers "But I guess that's okay, Ichiya likes your body just the way you are."

Even though she was wearing armor, you could see the shivers running down her spine and her face growing blue as she choked on that cake.

"Stop that", she didn't like being teased with a matter as serious as Ichiya, not even by you "You know exactly he gives me the chills every time."

You shrugged and turned back to the field inside of the Domus Flau arena in Krokus, watching the pair of wizards fight it out. Although you were no part of a guild, you were busy cheering on for Fairy Tail whenever they entered the field.

Yeah, sure, there were shouts of boos and the mocking of the other guilds but with Erza alone, they couldn't be any worse than the best.

You just knew it.

Even when the both of you were just kids and surely no force to reckon with, she wasn't just a surprisingly powerful mage but also kind and caring for those in her family. She was everything that made you change minds back then and you couldn't have been more grateful. It was only then that you realized just what exactly it was that you were doing and you felt so dirty the moment it became clear as day.

You snapped out of your stupor before it became obvious you were lightyears away and focused on the matches ahead of you.

Snatching the list from Gray's hands (who was too absorbed into fighting off Juvia - as always) to take a glimpse at the letters, you let out a sigh of defeat.

"Can I have a piece too?"

Just as you felt your eyes sliding shut, Natsu bumped into you, nearly making you fall over the handrails but at least, you were awake now.

"Is it finally over?" you leaned back and let out a yawn "Thank God!"

After all, you weren't that much into stuff like tournaments, Fairy Tail was basically the only reason for you to come into this cave of pent-up masses.

Nobody answered you, either tired as well or already on their way through the door and out of the arena, back to their sweet sweet home. You got up quickly and grabbed Erza (still next to you but with a very empty plate - you could only guess Mira had sacrificed her even more cakes) to get out.

It was just then that you noticed how far the sun has gone westwards making you suppress another yawn that made its way up. You got to go to bed soon enough anyway so no need to rush.

The way back out was surprisingly swift and without running into any hostile guilds (lucky you). So you were out before Natsu broke something or bumped into somebody.

"Let's go grab something to eat, (Y/N)? You coming?", you heard Gray's voice from behind you, making you turn around and give him a bright smile - only to decline.

"I'd love to, really, but there is that thing I need to get done yet. Don't worry, I'll be back soon, just start without me.", your voice was sweet enough that you nearly even betrayed yourself, if it hadn't been for that tiny tiny voice in your head.

Why don't you just tell them?

But you brushed it off without a second thought, no need to worry your friends about your self-made worries and troubles.

"Okay...", Erza didn't seem as convinced as you would've liked "You sure?"

A simple nod was enough to soothe her and so, you made your way back into town, taking a stroll through the streets devoid of people or friends. You were alone with your thoughts and the memories that came with them.

You sighed making eye contact with the horizon to take in the way the sun was drowning beneath these parts of bustling streets and places.

You hadn't missed the silence that came with the night for you had heard it over and over again in those sleepless nights.

It shamed you to this day that you hadn't noticed the way he was using you, cocooning you in soft and sweet words to make your finger bleed from hard work and your skin shining from the sweat and tears spilled for him. The worst part of it all was that damned silent voice within you, asking again and again if what you were doing was right.

How could you build weapons of mass destruction meant for thousands with a straight face?

How dared you think sacrificing people to a black wizard could be a way to achieve paradise?

How did you fail to notice that you would never be able to sleep after you were so willing to make these sacrifices more for him than for Zeref after all?

Who knew.

Did I know?

You wondered for years if maybe, just maybe, you had known what you were doing. You probably weren't even able to throw the cloak of ignorance over your shoulders to save yourself from the cold feeling of guilt.

Shame, shame on you.

You hated the way he made you feel so far away from everything like he had built a place away from the wars and the screams of the world, simply made for the two of you.

And again, you failed to notice how it was only the mist caught in between your fingers.

"(Y/N)?"

At first, you thought it was only the back of your mind, playing tricks on you by reviving past days and voices. But after some seconds, you had noticed the silhouette nearby and wondered if you had heard his voice.

Maybe you were going crazy.

At first, you noticed the dark blue hair, sticking out to spite the cloak it was put under, then that tattoo you would notice everywhere.

Jellal Fernandes.

Surprisingly enough, your panicking mind took it upon itself to react, stumping you with the bright - borderline hysterical - laugh that came out of your mouth.

You just couldn't help it. The way he appeared after decades with nothing to say but your name just about the moment you had wallowed in self-hate and guilt was just ridiculous.

Jellal stood quiet, not even his face gave away whatever irritated look he might have had, giving your laugh an untimely end. And that was just about what you needed to come back to your right set of mind.

"What are you doing here?" You didn't bother the biting hate in your voice or the way his shoulders slumped from your tone.

"I came because Erza told me you would be here.", he started when he had straightened again "She said it wouldn't be a good idea but I came because I wanted to speak to you."

You didn't trust the way this man looked so sad. You couldn't.

Not even enough to sit next to him when he scuffled over to the next bench and gestured for you to take a seat.

Not ever, not in a thousand years would you take that seat.

So you stood like a tree, unmoving and unwavering in your place, staring at him and ready to defend yourself by any means.

Would he try anything funny?

From the way, you knew him back then? Definitely.

Surprisingly though, he didn't try to press you into sitting down, instead starting to talk about whatever it was that lead him back to you.

"It took me a very long time to properly realize what had happened in the Tower of Heaven" he started "I did things in there that I never remembered to have said or done, horrible things. And when I remembered, it was like watching through the glass as someone else moved my body."

For the blink of an eye, his hand hovered over his head before he opted to pull down his hood and revealed the dark blue hair. Jellal sighed before he put his face in his hands for a few moments as if he was trying to get ahold of his last pieces of sanity.

"And when I understood what I had done, I felt so, so guilty. I tried to sacrifice hundreds - no, thousands of people, I manipulated you, Milliana, and the others to work for my cause. The worst of it all was the way I led you to believe in the lies I told you over and over again. I remember that look of adoration in your eyes and I misused it for these terrifying things."

The way he spoke of these sins the two of you committed so easily made you relive the shame of it over and over again. It was like your mind couldn't stop.

"I need to atone for these sins, for the things I did to you, and I wanted to start by telling you how sorry I am for the way I treated you and led you into believing these tales.

I do not ask for you to forgive me or to see beyond that, I came here to apologize because that is what you deserve."

For the first time since he started talking, he looked into your eyes as if waiting for your response and your mind came to an abrupt halt.

What exactly was it what you were feeling?

Hate?

Sadness?

Anger?

...No.

For the first time in forever, you could sympathize with him - that person who you had thought of as a monster for much longer than you wanted to admit. He had been taken advantage of and used to do whatever malicious things asked of him. He did not have a choice.

What did he feel like when he discovered how many people had been suffering under him? Was it sorrow? Betrayal? Shock? Or even anger?

And only when you were ready to answer was it that you too were looking into these dark eyes.

"I remember every damn word you spoke whenever you looked at me so fondly and I remember how you laughed at me for even believing in your farce. " you didn't try to cover up the bitterness sneaking in when you recalled your heart break into pieces just like that.

"And now that you are sitting in front of me, asking for forgiveness, I don't even feel the hate anymore." it had stilled to numbness in your heart, always there, but only with that hollow feeling, never leaving.

"I cannot forget", you further explained feeling unshed tears prick in your eyes "My memories have become a part of me and they will never leave again. A Sorry won't fix everything."

By then, two or three tears escaped over your face before you could wipe them away, not escaping Jellals gaze.

He turned to look at the ground for a few seconds, then he moved off the bench and cast a sad smile at you, only to walk away from you as if that was his clue to disappear back into the night.

Only when you understood where he going, you set into motion, reaching out for his hand.

"But..."

The blue-haired male revolved when he felt your hand in his, soft as in those memories he still held close. His eyes became wide at the side of your tearing and red eyes, paired with that tiny, hopeful smile directed at him.

"But... I won't give up on you."

His mouth carved up to mirror your smile as he squeezed your hand just like sunlight kissing your skin.

#fairy tail #jellal fernandes #jellal #jellal x reader #x reader #anime #writing #crime sorciere #reader insert #(y/n)#imagine

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years ago

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Okay you have no idea how excited I was to see that you're open for requests! I love your Mando stories so could I please request my big boi Paz? I'd love to witness you do magic with prompts : 14 (bodyguard AU) and either 49 (fake marriage)/63 (mistaken for couple)/80 (green-eyed epiphany) *can you tell I couldn't decide* *I'm a Libra* *I do apologize*

Im honored that you love my mando fics and that you got excited about me opening requests 🥺💕Also, as a Sagittarius sun and moon, I relate on not being able to make decisions 😔, but I have a great idea for:

14. Bodyguard AU

63. Mistaken for Couple

80. Green-Eyed Epiphany

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x GN!Reader

Words: roughly 2k, woops

Send me some AUs/Tropes??

Note: So I just wanted to start this off with what I'm thinking about this mash-up, like whats going on and the situation. A little backstory/world building, if you will. So, im seeing this as after the tribe on Nervarro scatters after the fight with Grogu, Din, and the Stormtroopers. Paz is by himself and in need of work for credits, to both support himself and save up for when/if he is reunited with his tribe he can help rebuild and contribute. That leads him to a small midrim planet that is pretty divided. You are the head of the government, but there is a group of people who keep trying to kill you and harm your supporters because they want the "true ruler" to be in your place. Said "ruler" is part of a bloodline of radical tyrants that had been controlling the planet until around the same time the empire fell, their downfall resulting from being too involved with the empire. SO, the head of your defense team brings in Paz to protect you, because not only is he a big scary dude covered in big weaponry and armor, but also because you keep insisting that all the soldiers and guards should be protecting the people not you, so bringing in Paz was his little loophole. Now on to the story!

You were not happy with this arrangement, and you had told the head of your guard just as much. You didn't need a protector, it only showed your rivals that you were scared of what they were capable of, that they had the possibility to win this war they were waging. The man- the mandalorian that had been hired was unfazed by your indifference towards him, always just trailing silently behind you look just as menacing as mandalorians were said to be. It was easy to tell that he knew his way around a variety of weapons, it was easy to tell that he had been through battles and suffered their consequences. And it was easy to tell that this job seemed to be a bit boring for him. He didn't have any excitement, most days the mandalorian was stuck following you throughout the capital building, attending meetings that he could care less about, standing guard to your study as you paced around in thought. Nothing much happened, but as time went on and the war worsened and the threat of your rivals loomed over your head you started to notice that the mandalorian would do little things that shaved a little of your stress away, or would brighten you day if only a little. Little treats would show up on your desk, or cups of teas or caf just the way you liked them, walks through the garden would result in a vase of flowers- handpicked and cut with a sharp knife at an angle, delicately- placed in your room. The first time you broke down in front of him, the stress of loosing nearly an entire village not far from where you were to the grievous ways of your enemies broke you to the point of sobbing hysterically and the mandalorian surprised you with his gentleness, as he softly grabbed your arms and made you look up at him, his blue helmet staring down at you as he said, "You will get past this...you...you are a good leader, you care for your people more than yourself, and in the end, that is what will have you coming out on top."

After that night, something changed between the two of you. Instead of following behind you silently, you started walking beside the mandalorian, in meetings instead of letting him stand silently behind you, you started asking his opinions on the battles or if he had any suggestions to help combat. The two of you got closer, and you weren't sure when, but eventually you found yourself calling the mandalorian a friend, and you liked to believe he thought of you as one as well, he at least trusted you enough that he told you his name, which you only used in the private of your quarters or study during your late night talks. When you started to show signs of the stress becoming too much, or that you were nearing another breakdown, he would gently lead you away from whatever you had been doing. More times than not he lead you to the gardens and sat you down as he would tell you stories of his childhood or of his people and culture. One evening, he went as far as to set up a little spot for you to relax and eat a little snack with tea, to give you time away from everything, to give you a break from holding your home on your shoulders. It had been nice, and it helped you clear your thoughts, the gesture had you smiling fully for the first time in months, and it was one that was not quick to fade. As thanks, you had asked Paz what you could do, to which he only replied, "Seeing you smile is enough." So you did, you smiled at him and gently reached out and placed a kiss on the cheek of his helmet.

The smile Paz had gifted you stayed for a few days, your people noticed the happiness and it it seemed to affect all of them, each person growing their own little smiles. Melancholy still hung in the air, but you felt like you had the energy and will power to deal with it now. But as all good things must end, this happiness was ripped from you, when the head of your guard rushed into a meeting with the delegates of the planet, his face was crumpled in worry and he whispered apologies as he reluctantly handed over a letter addressed to you. Your heart pounding, you opened the letter only to freeze at the sight of a photo taken of the moment that had only radiated happiness until now, staring down you only saw yourself pressed close to Paz’s form with lips pressed against his helmet. The moment now felt tainted, and you felt sick to your stomach, the happiness that was shown in the picture gone, only replaced with pure terror. Glancing at the man stood before you, he took the picture and flipped it before handing it back with a somber look. On the back, in deep red ink and scratchy handwriting read:

Now, do you really think courting a mandalorian is going to protect you from your death by my hands? Ill make sure to kill him in front of you so you have to watch as he falls.

Yours loving,

The True King

You hadn't even realized you were shaking, nor breathing heavily, until a gloved had reached into very and took the note away from you. You watched as Paz looked the note over before passing it back to your head guard. He told him something, but you could not hear as your eyes started ringing. Gently Paz helped you stand, before leading you away from the meeting. You didn't care where he was taking you, at that moment you couldn't think straight, couldn't get past the thought of, how did they get so close to take a photo without anyone noticing?

After the letter had been delivered Paz took care to never leave your side, he became more overbearing and involved with planning your schedule. No longer were you allowed in the gardens, or outside for that matter, for the time being, Paz only really allowed you to go to your quarters, your study, and the meeting room. You didn't fight him, too tired from the lasting conflicts and worry over what would happen next. A month went by, and everything quieted, the attacks stopped, and it almost felt like your enemy had gone into hiding. You didn't relax though, the note still whispering in the back of your head. Paz found himself often sleeping in the chair beside your bed, after too many nights of having been awoken to you yelling out his name and finding you rushing to his room to reassure yourself that he was safe.

Then it happened. You knew the quiet was only leading to something, but you weren't prepared to be a woke in the middle of the night to Paz scream to you. It had been the first night you had been able to fall asleep and stay asleep without nightmares of Paz’s death, but you were only thrown into a different nightmare as your eyes few open and you saw Paz fighting off an attacker. You yelled for you to run, and as you hesitated he only growled your name and told you to go, so with a heavy heart you did, you ran. All around the capital you could seem fires burning and hear your guards fighting with silhouettes your tired eyes could not make out in the low light of night. You did not know where to go, only letting your feet carry you, only stopping when you were out of breath. Looking around, you found yourself in the garden, feet from where you gave Paz the soft kiss, the memory still churning out a small amount of happiness, but quickly turned sour once more when the grinning face of the man you loathed most in the world stood from the bench hidden in the shadows.

"My dear, I was hoping you'd come here. I know you are especially fond of the gardens, most certainly this area."

"What do you want Alun? Why wouldn't you stop this fighting? People, my people, our people are suffering!"

He scoffed and turned to look at the city burning around you both. "The people deserve what they are getting for forgetting their true leaders. And you for forgetting what you once were."

"Stop this. You are doing nothing but destroying the planet!"

Alun turned to look at you, small smile curling onto his hate filled face. Slowly he reached out and placed the rose he had picked behind your ear, the thorns pricking your skin, one digging in enough to make a drop of blood run down your ear.

"When I have control again, and we are again together, things will go back to the way they were. I promise you, love. You just need to stop fighting me."

Disgust formed on your face as you stepped back, "We may have been engaged before you fell, but I never loved you. I was forced into that position by you and your father, and I do not regret being apart of how he and you fell from grace. I will never stop fighting you."

"Oh, but I love you, and I will have you, my love."

"Not if I have any say," a voice growled from behind you. Whipping around, relief flooded you at the sight of Paz marching towards where you stood. He was covered in blood from fighting, but seemed like he was uninjured himself much to your relief. But he seemed angry, livid almost as he pushed you behind him, standing toe-to-toe with Alun. "If you want them, you will have to get through me, and I will not stop fighting until my dying breath for them," Paz’s words settled into your chest, warmth flowing through you as the next few second moved in slow motion. Paz reached out, before Alun even had a chance to grab for his weapon. Paz lifted him like a rag doll to his height, making direct eye contact, before growling out, "because I love them, and you will never have them."

And with that said, Paz simply slammed his forehead into Alun's forcefully knocking him unconscious, then carelessly dropping him to the ground where he laid unmoving buise already forming on his forehead. Paz then turned to you and reached for you, but you simply flung yourself onto him. "You're okay, i was so worried, I didn't want to leave you, I was so scared that something would happen and that Id...."

"That you'd, what cyare," Paz whispered as he held you close, arms wrapped around you as if he'd let go and you'd disappear. Looking up and into his helmet's visor you were quiet for a moment, before speaking up softly, "I love you too... I thought I'd never get to tell you that I loved you."

Gently, Paz pressed his forehead against your own, before whispering, "You don't have to worry. I'll always be around to protect you. And," a teasing note coming out in his voice making you smile, "You can tell me how much you love me anytime you want. As long as you don't have anymore previous fiancés out there professing their love to you. I don't think I could hold back from ripping off their heads like I did just now."

Giggling you shook your head, "No more love professions, I promise. Only yours matter."

Everything Tags: @mysticalgalaxysalad @phoenixhalliwell @moodsare @perpetual-fangirl900 @night-snows00 @dumbass-simp-for-fredweasley @stargazingthenightaway @meabravo @just-here-for-the-moment @masteracewindu @litakino

Paz Tags: @bunny-fairy @elinedjarin @shellyc9 @blackmarketmummy @djarin-junk

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#anon thots #au tropes asks #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader #paz x gn!reader #14. Bodyguard AU #63. Mistaken for Couple #80. Green-Eyed Epiphany #i hope you liked this!!#i liked the idea but i feel like i kind of just threw it together hap hazardly :/

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

Text

Wash Up

Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: nakedness, wounds, men at bars, cuteness

Author’s Note: I just finished this show and i just am in love with this man thats that you know what i mean. I really liked this fic too so I hope you guys do as well!

Summary: Geralt returns from a few days away from you

Genre: fluff

Song: rivers and roads by the head and the heart

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

The town scuffled around you. It seemed that the world moved around at a high pace. Your world moved so quickly. As quick as the strangers around you, spilling and knocking over drinks while laughing with friends. Jaskier sat beside you at the corner of the bar. He had out his loot, mulling over the next song that he wanted to write.

You had a pint of ale in your hands as you watched and waited.

“Is advantageous to pretentious?” Jaskier asked. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow, shrugging.

“I think that it works. How are you going to use it?” He showed you the piece of parchment where there were scribbled lyrics and notes. You looked it over and nodded idly. “Not too pretentious.”

“Geralt will think it’s too pretentious,” he pointed out, hesitating to put down the word amongst the others. You shook your head and turned to him, away from the town gathered around you.

“Don’t actually listen to anything Geralt says. He, himself, is too pretentious,” you promised. Jaskier shook his head.

“Easy for you to say. I don’t think he’s spoken an ill word of you ever.” You rolled your eyes and took a small drink of your ale.

“We’ve had our fair share of fights.”

“And they usually end with me not getting a good nights sleep. I wish you would warn me next time so that I could get a room far away from both of you,” he muttered. You chuckled lowly.

“Sounds like you need another drink to get those creative juices flowing, huh Jaskier?” You stood up and ruffled his hair. He swatted your hand away but he was smiling. You and Jaskier had grown close. You didn’t act like you hated him like Geralt tended to do. You were a nice balance between the two of them, such happiness matched by such bitterness. You had known Geralt much longer than Jaskier but he seemed to add some laughs to the relationship.

You walked over to the bar and put down your empty cup.

“Two more please.”

“On me.” You turned over to the man who had just approached. It was not Geralt which surprised you. Geralt had been away for a couple of days. You had been itching for him to return. He left you to watch Jaskier which you thought was stupid. He liked to tag along and you were useful in a fight. Geralt was picky much too often.

“Thank you but I’ve got it,” you told the stranger. He shook his head.

“Two for a girl like yourself?” he questioned. You shook your head.

“The second one if for my friend over there,” you said, pointing over to Jaskier. He was messing with the strings and singing quietly so that only he could hear.

“What kind of woman are you to be stuck with a bard like that?” You scoffed.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business sir,” you promised. The bartender gave you the two drinks and you gave him a nod goodbye. You got barely three steps away before he grabbed your arm, spilling the drink all over you. You let out a small gasp, looking down at the dress he had ruined. You were lucky you had left your armor in the room.

The people closest to you turned to look., Jaskier looked up and stood when he saw you were in distress. He crumpled up his paper and put it in his pocket as he walked over.

Geralt got there first.

You raised an eyebrow and your mouth opened in surprise as you saw him. He put himself between you and the man who had troubled you with his advances. He was covered in the guts of some monster, from head to toe. Jaskier got to you and you handed him the full cup.

“For you,” you said, smiling.

“You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” Jaskier nodded, giving you a happy grin. Geralt however, was not done with the man.

“She told you it was none of your business and then you ruin her dress. I suppose you have the money to pay for it,” he said stiffly. The man realized who Geralt was and put his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t realize she was a witcher's property,” he said. “My apologies.”

“I’m no one’s property. Now the money for my dress,” you said, pushing past Geralt. Geralt let you move past him. You stood your guard against the man.

“I have no money to spare for a rag you may wear once.” You nodded, slowly, stiffly. You turned to Jaskier who was slowly sipping his drink.

“I’m sorry dear,” you said softly. He handed you the drink before you had to ask. You turned back around and sprayed it in the man's face. It dripped off his beard and onto his clothes that looked nothing more than the rags he spoke of. He reached for his dagger but Geralt stepped in front of you once more.

“Call it even,” he said. The man looked at the sword draped across his back and how he was covered in the guts of a monster that was likely much harder to kill than the stranger would ever be. The man nodded, letting out a sigh. You turned to the bar and raised a finger.

“On the house,” the bartender said, shaking a bit at the sight of Geralt. You took it with a kind smile and handed it to Jaskier.

“Voila,” you said with a smile. “The drink has returned.” He laughed and shook his head. Geralt grabbed your arm gently and you nodded. “Keep ‘advantageous’.” Jaskier nodded as you walked out of the bar. He had always been so fond of you. A kind soul that was locked in life with a witcher. It made for good songs.

You and Geralt walked out of the bar and then wordlessly up to the place that you were staying. You were drenched in ale and he was drenched in guts but you did not speak. You reached the room and he disappeared wordlessly into the small closet. You walked into the bathroom and started to draw a hot bath. It took a few minutes but Geralt returned to you, a change of clothes for the both of you. He put them down on the counter and walked over to where you sat, beside the bath, your fingers just barely touching the water as you tested its temperature.

At the sight of you, peaceful, Geralt eased. It had been a hard monster to kill, harder than most. He had wondered if his travel home was going to be delayed or not but he made it just as night fell. You put your head against the side of the bath and he started to undress.

You had seen each other naked countless times before. There was no sense of awkwardness anymore to it. He gestured for you to take his hand and you did so, standing up. He turned you around gently and slid the dress off of your shoulders. It fell very carefully onto the floor. He did his best not to touch your body with his guts covered hands. You took off the rest of your undergarments and by the time you were finished with that, Geralt was in the bath.

You sat behind him, grabbing a sponge and ringing it out. You started to wash the guts off him slowly. He eased into your touch, relaxing.

“What happened while I was gone?” he asked gruffly. You shrugged.

“Nothing eventful. I would have liked to go with you.”

“Well then who would have washed me up.” As the grime started to ease away you noticed a new scratch on his back. You brushed your finger over it lightly.

“I would have avoided this growing scar,” you whispered. You kissed it gently, lips lingering on his skin. He took your hand off of his shoulder where it lay. He brought it to his lips and held it there, closing his eyes as he kissed your palm.

The door to the room opened. Geralt's eyes opened quickly and he turned to see who was disrupting his peace.

“Y/N?!” Jaskier yelled. You chuckled lowly and sank further into the water, ringing out the sponge.

“Busy!” you yelled back. You heard his walking stop.

“I thought I told you to warn me!” he pouted. You placed your head against Geralt's back and smiled lightly.

“Go away Jaskier!” Geralt yelled gruffly. You hit him gently.

“We’ll be out before you go to bed!” you called. He seemed to be okay with that.

“Fine! Be quieter!” he yelled and the door shut again.

“Why make promises you can’t keep?” Geralt asked you, voice back to a softer tone. You put down the sponge and he turned his head to the side to look at you.

“I’d rather he leave us thinking we will be back soon.”

“You’re too nice to him.”

“Kindness is free you know.” You grabbed his hand and placed your head on his shoulder. You moved down and kissed his skin. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He turned his head and kissed the side of your head.

“We aren’t going to be back before Jaskier goes to sleep are we.”

“Not a chance.”

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia imagines #geralt x reader #geralt imagines #the witcher imagines

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little-mad · 3 years ago

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Downsides of Thievery Pt. 1

~ Next Part ~

“Maybe stealing from an interdimensional diplomat wasn’t my greatest idea,” Gavin thought to himself from his current position in a jail cell.

He’d been hesitant about the job right away. Stealing from humans was one thing, but stealing from alteons was on a whole new level. However, the payment the client had offered Gavin had been too tantalizing to refuse. Who knew it was bad to be greedy?

“Shit,” he grumbled under his breath. How was he supposed to know the diplomat would have some weird magical artifact thing that could detect and identify trespassers? That was just unfair. Gavin was a good thief, so good that he’d managed to make a career out of it. If he had been caught due to his own ineptitude maybe he wouldn’t be so peeved. But this was just a matter of not having enough information. Thus making it unfair.

Prison was something every criminal feared, but it was also something every criminal prepared for in some sense. If Gavin was headed for prison, he might not be so worried. Sure it would suck, but at least he felt sure his undeniable charms would make him friends in no time. But Gavin wasn’t headed for prison--no, he was being extradited to the alteon dimension.

Gavin shivered at the thought. Despite having stolen from one, he had never actually seen an alteon in person. Pictures and videos could only do so much, at least that’s what people said. Apparently the true gravity of an alteon’s massive size couldn’t be understood until you saw one in real life.

Not only would Gavin quite literally be put in the hands of an alteon, but he would also be getting taken to a completely different dimension that only a few very important humans had ever visited before. Maybe he should’ve felt special.

Were the circumstances different, Gavin might’ve even felt excited for the adventure. His work had taken him all over the world, it would be thrilling to get to see a whole new one. However, he had a feeling he wouldn’t exactly be getting the grand tour.

It was at that moment that Gavin began to hear footsteps approaching his cell. A few moments later, two business-suit clad federal agents appeared. Gavin scrambled to his feet and took several unconscious steps towards the back wall. The key jangling in one of the agents’ hands told him exactly what time it was.

“Your ride is here,” the female agent announced, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Gavin scowled.

The key carrying agent swiftly unlocked the door and beckoned for Gavin to exit the cell. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he stated impatiently.

“Aren’t you going to cuff me or something?” Gavin questioned, taking note of the fact that neither agent had brought handcuffs with them.

The woman’s smirk grew but she remained silent. “The alteon won’t need cuffs to restrain you,” the man responded.

Gavin instantly felt the pit of fear in his stomach grow. Horrible images of himself trapped in gigantic hands were invading his mind. Being given over to the alteons meant that his civil rights would be essentially irrelevant. Unless alteons had laws protecting humans, which he doubted, then they could do pretty much whatever they wanted with him. Gavin swallowed hard.

“A-actually, I’m okay staying here…” he stammered. God, he hated how pathetic he sounded. Gavin’s line of work required a lot of guts, and while a healthy dose of caution was always good, he had never considered himself to be cowardly in any sense of the word. But now...well now he felt like the biggest fraidy cat in the whole world.

The male agent gave Gavin what almost seemed like a sympathetic look. “Sorry, but that’s not an option,” he said, once again making a beckoning motion with his hand.

“Dad was right. I should’ve become a doctor,” Gavin thought miserably to himself as he very reluctantly exited his cell.

The trip up from the cell block to the roof of the building pretty much felt like a march to death. Federal employees stared unabashedly at the man practically being sacrificed to giants. Some wore looks of pity, while others had smug expressions on their faces, as if to say “serves him right.” Were Gavin in a better mood he probably would have scowled at the nosy jerks, or at least stuck his tongue out at them. But as things were, he was in no mood.

Rael sighed as he shifted his feet impatiently. It didn’t elude him that every human in the vicinity stiffened at his movement. He refrained from rolling his eyes. It was irritating how the humans constantly acted so skittish all the time, as if he would suddenly go on some sort of rampage.

“Why did they have to give me this assignment?” Rael mentally groaned.

Unlike many of the members of the Imperial Guard, he hadn’t joined with some idiotic fantasy of glorious duels and honorable battlescars. Rael joined because he knew it was the easiest way to elevate his station. Plus standing guard at the palace was easy work that he was perfectly content with. That’s why he had been less than pleased when he'd been informed he would have to venture to the human dimension to retrieve some human criminal.

Prior to today, Rael had only seen a human once, it had been from a distance and only for a second as they were being escorted into the palace. Therefore, he’d had no personal reason to dislike humans. It was just that from everything he had heard about them, they sounded so...annoying. And so far, his experiences with them today had proven that to be fairly accurate.

Rael suppressed a sigh as he glanced around. Thankfully the building he’d been told to go to was at the edge of a human city, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with civilians gawking at him. The federal agents gathered on the roof in front of him were bad enough.

The stories about how giant being in the human realm would make you feel rang true. Rael felt positively colossal next to people who looked to be barely taller than his fingers. Not to mention the building he was standing beside, which appeared to be three stories, reached no higher than his knees. “Humans are lucky our imperialistic urges died a century ago,” Rael thought. Taking over the human realm would no doubt be a piece of cake, even with their supposed technological advancements.

“Sir!” Rael’s attention was caught by the shout of one of the humans standing on the roof below. He looked down to see the speaker was the woman who appeared to be in charge. “We apologize for the wait, the prisoner is being brought up now,” she announced. It was almost amusing, the way they had to yell for their tiny voices to even be perceived by him.

“Good,” Rael responded simply, electing not to mention the fact that the prisoner should’ve been ready and waiting for him when he arrived.

After a few minutes, Rael caught sight of the door on the roof entrance swing open. Three humans stepped out. The two dressed similarly to all the other federal agents practically had to drag the third one out. It was difficult for Rael to see from so far away, but the odd one out appeared to be a young man. He had light skin, a crop of messy brown hair, and appeared to be quite slim.

Rael raised a single eyebrow. “This is the prisoner?” he questioned as he eyed the man. He didn’t look like much, which was applicable to pretty much all humans, but Rael found it hard to believe that this one could’ve successfully stolen from an alteon.

“Yes, sir!” replied the woman in charge. “His name is Gavin Stone, he’s believed to be associated with many high profile robberies,” she explained.

Rael spared the human called “Gavin Stone” one last look before giving a shrug and reaching for the miniature iron cage attached to his belt.

The cage, which had been especially made for this occasion, was quite simple in its construction. The thing didn’t even have a lock because the latch to open the door was too big for a human’s miniscule hands to manage. It would do perfectly for keeping the criminal contained throughout the duration of the trip back to the palace.

The moment Gavin had laid eyes on the alteon, his body had practically separated from his mind. Physically, he was moving forward with the guidance of his two escorts, but his mind was still struggling to process the impossibly large person looming above him.

If the alteon’s size wasn’t strange enough, the guy looked like he’d stepped right out of a Renaissance Fair or something. His skin was a soft brown color, and he had long black hair that was tied into a loose ponytail behind him. His eyes were a striking teal color that stood out against his angular features. As for his clothing, he looked to be wearing what appeared to be some kind of light leather armor over top of a forest green tunic. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that he had pointy elf ears.

Gavin had known the alteon dimension was almost medieval in nature, and he’d known the alteons had pointy ears, but it was still so damn bizarre to see in person.

As Gavin was in the middle of gaping, the giant began to move. He flinched at the action, and he noticed everyone else on the rooftop tense up as well. Clearly nobody was comfortable around this--this thing! “How can they hand me over to that?!”

It wasn’t until he had been practically shoved to the edge of the roof that Gavin’s brain caught up with what his body had been doing. Frantically he looked around him. All of the agents, including his former escorts, had backed away from the edge of the building closest to the alteon. This left Gavin stranded, with a giant man a mere few feet away.

With a hard gulp, Gavin tilted his head back to look up at the creature who was about to snatch him away. Those teal eyes were glancing down at him, and in his hand was a cage the perfect size for holding a stupid human who really should’ve just become a damn doctor.

#so yeah...i've got some new ocs #get ready for some juicy fearplay in this sucker #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t story #g/t community #my writing #oc: Gavin Stone #oc: Rael #g/t fearplay

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lordabovehelpme · 4 years ago

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Know That I Love You- Din Djarin x Reader

This is chapter four (and the final chapter) of my Forget Me Not Series.

A/n: Hello everyone. Yes, I know I had one more chapter planned before the epilogue, but I just really liked how this one ended and I thought it would work best with the series. Thank you everyone for your support and kind words as I have been writing this. I have had a blast creating this series and it is really all becuase of you lovely people. I hope you guys enjoy this ending and shed as many tears as I did writing it. Thank you again for making my life as a content creator that much more special. I love each and every one of you.

Summary: After a long month of no memories, you and your husband have one last idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why did this happen to you? Why has your brain just decided to block everything from you? It’s been a month. A long seemingly never ending month since the last time you remembered something.

You and your husband have tried everything. Foods, music, scents, literally everything. And yet, nothing.

The first week was alright. Your memories, so far, have been spaced out by about a week. So the three of you just went about normal life. But then week two hit. You started getting antsy, excited for the next new memory. What new thing would you remember? Would it relate to Din? Or Grogu? The possibilities were endless.

As each day passed, you started getting more and more stirred and thrilled. Even the stoic mandalorian started to pick up on your excitement. Every night he would ask if you had remembered anything or if anything throughout the day had sparked something. But the answer was always no.

Your hope started to waver and deplete towards the beginning of week three. By the end of the week you found yourself questioning why. Why when you were making so much progress it would end so soon? Why would the world offer you so much hope only to rip it away again?

It is now week four. You’ve given up. It’s like someone took a knife and cut from your heart to your stomach, leaving it open and deep. Your heart seizes as you look at your husband. Not only is this hard for you, but for him too.

Currently, you’re on the way to a planet called Sorgan. Din had said that they had contacted him and needed some help with supplies. You had asked him if you knew this planet. He explained that you’ve only been a few times and that he tries to keep tabs on this planet. So he said that the first day might be a little overwhelming as the village will recognize you. But he assured you he’ll be right beside you.

He’s always right beside you, supporting you and making sure you’re okay. The firm strong hand on your back that assures you that you’re safe; both physically and metaphorically.

As if he can feel your gaze, he looks over his shoulder at you. Those warm compassionate eyes sparkle as they silently ask you if you’re okay.

You nod at him, although it’s a melancholic nod. He offers you a smile before turning back towards the world outside the ship.

***

That’s weird. You can hear birds chirping from outside the Crest. Sitting up, you find yourself alone in the bunk, no Din and no Grogu.

Wrapping the blanket around you, you stand and pad through the hull. Oh, you must have landed on Sorgan in the night. That explains everything. The containers of supplies Din brought for them are gone and he’s not even here.

After getting dressed, you finally emerge from the ship. Laughter bubbles around the village as children run around with one another. People are out in the water with baskets and wide smiles. The buzz of insects and songs of birds go right along with the various conversations held between people.

You scan your surroundings, searching for the shiny armor of your mandalorian. Ah, there. Near the front of the houses and huts stands your husband with a woman. She is absolutely beautiful. Long brown hair that looks so silky and smooth. Her kind eyes as she smiles up at the mandalorian.

They look cute together.

The thought comes out of nowhere, but you can’t deny the truth it holds. You watch as they converse, and your heart sinks when she reaches out and grabs your husband's bicep, that sweet large smile and gorgeous sparkling eyes. But it hurts even more when he does nothing, he doesn't even flinch.

Jealousy burns a hold right through your chest and you hope she can feel it. Mustering up your confidence, you walk over and grab his other arm.

At the sight of you she releases his arm and her shoulders drop. But she lifts them back up so fast you start to question if it actually happened.

“Hello cyare, did you sleep well?” He wraps his arm around you and pulls you into his side.

You look right at the woman, making eye contact before turning your gaze to your mandalorian. “Yes, but I would have woken up better if you were there.” You put on a show, sticking your bottom lip out in a pout and you try to make your eyes as wide as possible, batting you eyelashes in a silent plea.

He chuckles and squeeze your waist in apology. “I’m sorry, I planned on coming back to you but I got held up.”

You hum out some sort of forgiveness before turning back towards the woman. “Hi, how are you? Do I happen to know you?”

She smiles. “Oh yes, I’m Omera. You do know me, or well you did know me.” She gasps as she catches her mistake. “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes widen in fear as she looks up to meet your husband's gaze. “Please, forgive me. I meant no offense.” She dips her head in an apologetic bow, distress written all over her features.

“Oh no, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” You realize just how petty you had been to her. Jealousy really does cloud one’s mind. Smiling at her you assure her that you had just started off on the wrong foot. She nods and smiles back at you.

***

The two of you walk back to the Crest for lunch. The mandalorian sits down on a container while sliding his helmet off. “Cyare, I was thinking.”

“That’s never good.” You say it over your shoulder while preparing the food rations

He glares at you, but you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes as you turn back around. “Maybe we should try going to a medic to see if there's some medication or something. They have a really good one here. That’s also one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here.”

“Oh.” You hand him his bowl of soup before sitting down next to him. “That sounds good.”

He looks at you, checking for your facial expressions. “Are you sure? You don’t have to make the decision now, I just wanted you to start thinking about it.”

You meet his eyes and your hand moves to cup his cheek, your thumb running along the skin beneath his eye. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He slightly leans into your touch and his eyes flutter closed. Smiling, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for caring.”

His eyes open and nearly knock you over with how much adoration they hold. “Always.” He tilts towards your hand so he can press a kiss to your palm. “Always cyare.”

***

He holds your hand as you walk over towards the hut where the medic lives. “Do you want me to go in with you, or do you want to go by yourself?”

That makes you stop and think. It would be easiest for him to come in with you and hold your hand. But what if you learn something that you don’t want him to know, let alone yourself to know. You’d rather break the news to him than for a medic to tell the both of you.

“I think I’d like to go by myself.” His visor tilts down towards you. “But you can come if you’d like. I know this is just as hard for you as it is for me.”

He squeezes your shoulders before bringing you into a hug. “No, you go cyare. But, please…” his voice falters and the vocoder cracks, “please be okay.” Those last words are barely even audible.

You look up at him and slide your fingers under his helmet, stroking his prickly jaw. He leans down and presses his forehead against your own. Water falls onto your fingertips and he pulls you closer to his chest. “I promise.”

He nods his head and grips your wrists, lifting your hands just enough so he can press a kiss to each finger. Then he releases them as you lean up to kiss his helmet. He gives one last squeeze to your skin before letting you go into the hut. As your shape disappears behind the door he almost follows you, but he knows better. So he just takes one last glance before walking away.

As you walk through the door, you are instantly met with the strong smell of sanitizer and medicine. There are a few chairs to your right, they onlook the various machines and curtained-off sections.

A kind looking older woman emerges from a separate room. “Ah yes, I heard you would be here soon.” She gestures for you to follow her into another room.

“You did?”

She chuckles, “Yes, your husband was very adamant that I see you.”

“Oh.” You can’t fight the smile that breaks its way onto your face.

She sits you down on a chair before scanning over your body. You watch her eyes, but from her years of experience, she doesn’t let you in past her usual kindness.

The longer she scans and the more she writes on her clipboard, the deeper your heart sinks. You start to play with your shirt, running the worn fabric through your fingers. Anxiety bubbles it’s way up as you answer her small questions.

Finally, after what seems like days, she claps her hands together and rests them on the messy clipboard. She looks down at her notes one last time before raising to meet your terrified gaze.

She gives you a weak smile before speaking, “Now, hon, remind me how everything has been going.”

You take a breath and start your story. You begin with how you woke up, unsure and terrified of where you were. Then how kind and loving your husband has been. You tell her, in earnest, how exciting it was to have the first memory. How happy and joyful the two of you were. The shared kisses in glee. And then you tell her about the rest. Memories of your wedding, of your life, of your love. Your face lights up the more you tell. A smile grows wide as you tell every detail you can.

But it only lasts a second, because then you move onto the last month. The pain you felt everyday having to tell him that you, once again, had not remembered anything. You tell her of how excited he looked every time you begin a conversation, a hope you would bring him news of your past life. You tell her how you could only stand there as his eyes softened and his shoulders slightly slumped when you instead brought him news of disappointment.

“And now I’m here.” You finally finish.

She takes one long deep breath, her eyes flickering to look outside the window. Setting the clipboard on the counter, she moves her chair closer to you and reaches out to wrap her hands around your clasped ones.

“Hon…” Her voice already tells you this is news you won’t like, “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes widen, hoping that she is just sorry for your story. Begging the downtune in her voice to just be from her old age.

“I checked everything, multiple times, and I’ve come with only one answer for you.” She squeezes your hands, giving you one more smile. “You should continue to slowly gain more memories.” She hesitates. “I’m afraid to tell you, but you’ll never fully regain your memories...”

Suddenly everything goes silent. You can see her mouth moving, but you can’t hear her. A piercing ringing blares in your head. Your chest seizes and it’s like you're drowning. You can’t get any air in even though you can feel yourself wheezing. The medic grabs your shoulders as you start to fall forward. You bring one hand to lay where your heart is.

It hurts.

She helps you fall to your knees as you stare down at the floor, trying to ground your body. It feels like hours have gone by and yet it also feels like it’s only been seconds when arms wrap around your frame and the warm familiar scent of your mandalorian fills your nose. Through watery eyes you look up to find his helmet staring at you.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the curtain close and soon your husband's face is revealed to you. His eyes frantically move over your features. Your hands blindly grab hold of whatever they can as you try to tell him you can’t breathe.

He says something to you, but it falls on deaf ears. You grab his hand and place it around your neck, trying to plead with him to help you. He seems to understand as he grabs your face between his hands and leans forward so your vision is filled with him. He breathes in through his mouth and his exhale fans over your skin. Nodding at you he does the same thing. You try to mimic him, breathing in the most air you can even as your body protests. He keeps doing the exercise with you and slowly your breaths become smoother and easier.

Sound starts to come back and you begin to hear his loud inhales and exhales. Closing your eyes, you now realize just how much water falls from them. His thumbs reach for your eyelids and pull them open. “No, don't do that. Stay with me. I can’t see you like that again.”

You can hear him! But why can’t you close your eyes? Your head tilts and he seems slightly shocked that you understood him.

“It’s too similar to that day. Just please, keep looking at me.”

Now that you’ve slightly calmed down, he pulls you sideways into his embrace, settling you on his lap. His arms wrap around you and slowly rock the two of you. Your eyes never leave his own and although you should want to shy away, you don’t.

After a good few minutes of his quiet shushing and comfort, words start to come back to you. “She,” your voice is gruff and scratchy but you need to tell him, “she said I’ll never get them back.”

Now that you’ve said it, it’s all become too real. Your greatest fear now a reality.

“I-...” You gasp as your tears start to fall again. “I’m sorry.”

He looks up towards the ceiling, the hands that were rubbing your arms stop. Great, he hates you.

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment. That I’m not even half of what I once was.” Your breathing starts to quicken and more tears fall. “You should just leave me. Let me go so you’ll never have to see me again, never have to be reminded of what once was. Or even better, find a new wife. I’m sure Omera would jump at the chance.”

At the sound of her name his head snaps down to look at you.

“I hate to admit it, but the two of you look so good together. She’s perfect for you. All pretty and kind. And she has memories. I’m sure she has lots of them. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with any of this.” You hiccup and try to scurry out of his embrace, but his arms hold you still.

“It’s okay, you can let go. I’ll just walk right out that door and we can both go about our lives. You’ll never see me again.”

His hand slowly reaches towards your face, his fingers beneath your chin, lifting your head to look at him. When you do meet his features, you’re met with sorrowful eyes and a small frown. His eyebrows furrow and his own tears fall.

“Never. Never say any of that again.” He leans forwards and touches his forehead to your own. “I don’t ever want you to leave. Just because you will never remember some stuff doesn’t make you any less of who you are. I fell in love with you, not the memories you have.”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your lips. “You’ve never once disappointed me. And when I look at you I don’t see some old version of you, I see a strong…” with each word he presses a kiss to your lips, “beautiful, smart, woman who I am so lucky to be able to call my wife.”

He leans back so he can look at you. “I don’t ever want to see you leave. If you left me I would have nothing left to live for.” His hand grabs your own and squeezes, “You are my whole life, my whole world cyare. As I have always said to you, ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, par gar cuyir ner kar’ta.”

His fingers trace circles on the back of your hand. “I know you forever. Forever cyare, not when you forget me, not when I get annoyed with you, not even when I want or decide. Forever and always. Until I die, and even after that, I will know you for you are my heart.”

He brings your hand to rest on his chest, above the armor that covers his heart. “You’re here. Right here, nestled and tucked away. You walked into my life and right into here, and if you leave, it’ll just be a big empty promise of what was.”

“Tell me cyare, tell me you understand what I’m telling you. That you understand that I love you more than you could ever believe. That you are never and will never be a disappointment to me.” His eyes flicker over your face as you nod.

“I understand.” Your voice is weak and quiet as you process all he told you. You fall forward and tuck yourself away in his neck. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me even when I’m at my worst.”

“Cyare,” his hands trail up and down your spine in a well oiled motion, “love is not easy. It is made to be tested, to be fought for, and to be weak at times. But it is something that does not die simply. It is everything beautiful and everything painful in this world. It stays with us longer than we could ever desire. Once it has a firm grip, it never let’s go. Just as I will never let go of you. Know that I will always fight for and protect our love.”

You nod as you weep into his shoulder, tears of pain, happiness, and most of all… love.

Because even through all your insecurities and the harsh voices in your head, you know deep down that he loves you.

And you know, that just as he will, you’ll fight for and fiercely protect this love. Since you could never truly let him go.

There is a reason the universe has let you gain back the memories you have. Each one is special and holds a reason. And the biggest reason being to show you that the love the two of you hold is pure and true. Just as when, or if, you ever remember any more, they will be the world’s way of telling you that the two of you are special. The two of you have something that many wish and will try anything for.

Because love is a powerful force.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epilogue

Well, there is the finale. Don’t worry- in a few days I’ll have the epilogue posted, but for now... thats it.

Again, I just want to thank everyone who has been reading and rebloging my content. You guys have made my life so much more wonderful.

I love you all so much, Lordy :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty @t3a-bag @all-along-the-resolute @impala1967666 @rosiefridayrogersunday

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