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kyberblade · 1 year ago

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Cover Me (Din x Reader) - Shatter Part 4 | Dincember 2023

A/N: This is Part 4 of Shatter. It’s also my contribution to the wonderful event known as Dincember 2023! All 25 prompts in 6k words. 😮‍💨 All the prompts are in bold. I’m so excited to share it with all of you. It can be read as a stand alone, but it’ll make a lot more sense if you read the other parts first. I hope you enjoy it! Happy New Year! No use of Y/N.

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Maybe some light swearing and mention of spiders??? Snark, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, Din is a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Space swearing. Mando’a. My Mandalorians do what they want. Banter. So much banter. And you’ll probably fall in love with them like I did. (I don’t make the rules.) Let me know if I missed something. (Again, all the prompts are in bold. No use of Y/N.)

Word count: 6,000 (MaGiC. ✨)

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading this every step of the way, counting all the words for me when I had a full day, and just being amazing. You’ve been my blessing from this hell site, and I’m not sorry I made you read about spiders so many times. 🧟‍♀️ Also a shout out to @what-the-heckin-heck and @littlemisspascal for just being amazing cheerleaders as I started this process, you guys always make me smile so much and make my little shit voice shut up, so thank you. ❤️

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Xxx

“Is this information reliable?”

“Yes.”

Din hesitated, shifting his weight to one side before he went on. “What about the informant?” His head followed his weight, looking down at you with a dubious tilt.

You sighed, clutching your helmet under your arm a bit too tightly, the leather of your gloves groaning in protest as your hands stretched as far as they could to contain what you really wanted to say. With a roll of your eyes while your own weight shifted the opposite way, you huffed again for good measure, leveling his visor with a look. “Din, I am your head of strategy and tactics. When are you going to let me do my job and trust me?”

“I do trust you,” he defended, his spine straightening with the effort of his words, before his shoulders rounded just slightly with a quietly added, “I don’t trust the situations you get us into.”

You simply stared at him for a long moment, the only sounds Peli’s droids beeping in the background of the hangar somewhere as Grogu chased them with a squeal that echoed off the stone walls, before turning and walking up the ramp of the newly renovated Crest.

“Ti,” he called out after you, voice exasperated but resigned. “Look,” he sighed again, then took a few steps forward, the sand crunching underfoot until he thought better of it, and came to a halt near the bottom of the ramp when you stopped at the top, your back still to him. “I’m sorry. But your sources are usually questionable at best….”

“Your face is questionable,” you grumbled under your breath, not bothering to turn around, but he heard you, huffing softly at the slight. Holding your helmet in front of you with both hands, looking down at your visor needlessly, you sighed to yourself as was the custom in this clan, looking at the wall of the ship across from you. Finally looking over your shoulder just enough to see Din in your peripheral, still at the bottom of the ramp, you felt your features soften. “Get the kid and let’s go. We’re following my lead on who attacked Mandalore.”

Xxx

“You have the worst leads,” you said exasperatedly before pulling the trigger on the controls of the Crest, shooting a rogue ship out of the sky in front of you.

“Me?” Din barked from his copilot seat beside you. “You’re the one who trusted a pirate.” He shook his head, looking back out the viewport. “Two more, left and point three.”

The cockpit had been modified to have two pilots sit side by side, putting you on the right and Din on the left. While the controls had to be slightly recessed to make room for two people, wrapping them around the space slightly more than they had been, it worked much better for the tandem tag team style you and Din often fell into. Everything was in arms reach, or just overhead, and if for some reason one of you were incapacitated, the other would take over.

The kid still had his seat a little back and to the right of the cabin, clapping gleefully at each burst of a fireball that was an enemy ship streaked past the viewport. The rest of the cockpit was taken up with wiring and rerouting for the new controls. Peli really had worked some magic to get it all to fit in the shell of the old Crest.

With a swerve of the steering, you swept the ship to the left, Grogu squealing from his seat behind the two of you, giggling when you pulled the trigger again and caused another fireball in front of you.

“Roll.”

You followed Din’s order without hesitation.

“No, to the left.”

“I am going left.”

“No, not your left, my left.”

“Din, we are facing the same way!” You yelled. “My left is your left!”

“Then go to the other left!” He barked.

“Right.”

“Why are you confirming again, there is only one other direction other than left-”

“No, I-” you groaned in frustration, entering a tight barrel roll to the right, making the kid let out a grunt as his safety belt held him in place. “First of all, I was saying ‘right’ as in ‘right we agree’.” The stars streaked by outside the viewport in one giant circle as you continued to spiral. “Secondly, there are several other directions besides left.”

He scoffed. “Name three.”

You ended the roll and fired on another ship. “Up. Down. Forward.” You looked across your shoulder at him pointedly, your head tilted slightly back, chin jutted forward toward the viewport. “Backward.”

“That’s four,” Din grumbled, pulling his own set of triggers to down an enemy ship that had gotten too close. The Crest flew through the remaining ball of flames, dousing the cockpit in an eerie glow.

“We need to get down there,” you pointed at a nearby planet through the viewport, glancing at him just briefly, grinning under your helmet at his slight head shake at your jab.

He punched a few buttons and the readout on the planet came up, the holo spinning above the panel between you both. After a few seconds he shook his head more vehemently. “Maldo Kreis. No. Uh-uh. No way. Been there, done that.” He pressed a button and the holo disappeared with a beep.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” You pulled the controls back, sending the ship into an ascent to avoid some ships, snorting out a laugh at Din’s abrupt huff of air and Grogu’s ruckus laughter as he squealed in joy. Reaching out, you pulled the holo back up with a press of the same button, only studying it for a second after the beep before Din had pressed it again, collapsing it with a final, hollow beep.

Ignoring your curious gaze until you turned back to look out the viewport, Din spoke tightly as you sent the ship into another spin to the right. “Crash landed there with the kid once. Don’t need to go back. Once is enough.”

“Is it safe?”

He made a sound of indecision. “Lots of snow. Lots of ice. Very cold.” He sighed. “It was no holiday, I’ll just say that-”

“But was it safe?” You reiterated.

He didn’t answer for a moment. “Giant icicles. Frost spiders….”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Spiders?”

“Spiders.” His tone was flat.

The two of you sat in silence aside from the surging of the engines of the ship and the fire of the enemies.

“Aw, is the Mand’alor afraid of some little bugs….?” You finally teased, sending the ship into a dive.

“Little-” he scoffed, his voice tight against the force of the gravity pushing against him until you evened the ship back out again. “No,” groaning softly, he settled back into his chair and flipped a switch to his side that released some tracking torpedoes at the enemy ships. “No,” he repeated less emphatically, looking to his right at you as the projectiles hit their mark and ignited, causing a muffled boom through the viewport, accompanied by a soft orange glow. Both the sound and illumination faded before he continued with a mumbled, “But I don’t particularly like them.”

“So it’s no Life Day celebration,” you mused, mulling over his words. Pointing the controls down toward the ball of ice looming larger and larger through the transparisteel, you sighed. “Maldo Kries it is.”

Grogu squealed excitedly.

Din turned to look at him from his seat with the biggest sigh yet. “Don’t worry, kid. We’re going in prepared this time.”

Xxx

“I thought you stocked up on rations last.”

Both you and Din stared at the single crate of food once the ship had touched down and the pirates had quit making pass by’s as frequently. His hands hung limply at his sides while yours were across your chest. You wished you’d taken your helmet off so he could feel the full force of your raised brow when you turned your gaze up to look at him, but you didn’t feel like unwinding your arms from their sternly disapproving hold.

No.

He would break first.

“Me?” He questioned, his weight shifting just slightly to the side and away from you at the accusation. “No. No, no, that was on your list.”

Your arms broke their hold on instinct and you grimaced at them, thankful for the cover of your helmet as you glared at their betrayal briefly before lifting your visor to fully stare at the other Mandalorian.

“Me?” You pointed to your chest before poking him in his, right in the center of his breastplate. “No. Nuh-uh, don’t do that, Din. You know Peli had me doing final repairs. She sent you to the market with R5 and the kid last minute-”

“To get her some parts!”

The two of you stared at each other.

You reached out and pushed the button on his vambrace that pulled up the holo projection of Peli’s request that hovered right above it. Pointing to the bottom, you waited while he read silently.

Finally there was a quiet, belated, “Oh.”

“What’s that? I’m sorry.” You pulled your helmet off, tucking it under your arm and resting it on your hip. This required eyebrows. “I didn’t get the list, can you read it out loud?”

There was something so entirely…. Domestic about this entire argument, that it almost made you smile. Almost. Who bought the food, who was supposed to take care of this, fixing that, running a little home together, a family, responsibilities…. It was a pattern the three of you had fallen into easily since having to flee Mandalore, and if you’d told yourself that before leaving…. You’d have laughed in your own face. But now…. Now you couldn’t see it any other way.

This was home. It was ragged, and broken, and quite frankly, falling apart at the seams most days. But it had everything you needed. Every bit of warmth. Every bit of joy, and laughter, and love. You’d quickly become a family. An aliit. And if any pirate scum was going to try and come between you…. They’d soon learn why the galaxy didn’t mess with Mandalorian’s.

Din clicked the list off without answering you. “We need to come up with a solution if we have to stay here long term.” He turned back to the crate, hands resting on his hips. “I wouldn’t think the pirates would stick around that long, but we only have enough for about three days, a week max if we stretch it.”

“That’s about one day if we let the kid anywhere near it,” you grumbled, sighing as you turned to look at the crate as well. “Guard it with your life, Mandalorian.” You looked back up at him, his visor turning to you. “It may very well count on it.”

Xxx

The Crest had a broken hyperdrive.

Din rounded on you in the main hull, slowly, in a way you didn’t like. It oozed sarcasm. “Okay,” he drawled, “I know I was supposed to get the rations, but you were supposed to fix the hyperdrive.”

You huffed, looking down at your vambraces as you fixed them for no good reason, your helmet jostling under your arm where it once again rested on your hip as you tugged on the armor needlessly. “No-”

“Do I need to look at your list?”

Your eyes whipped up to glare at him through your lashes, his visor tilted just so. Grumbling, you let your arms fall back to your sides as you stared at the wall just over his shoulder. It was fascinating. “I don’t have a list.” You let a scathing breath out through your nose, before your next words came out on a mumbled mutter more to yourself than anything. “Besides, I did fix it. ….just seems like it was temporary.” You got lost in thought for moment, your voice wandering with them. “Maybe that’s what Peli meant by ‘partial’ converter instead of the full-”

“No wonder you forgot.”

Your eyes flew back up to meet the T of his visor once again, wide in disbelief that he’d willingly left himself this open to retaliation. “So what’s your excuse?”

Din hesitated. “Excuse me?” His weight shifted to one side just slightly, as if realization was slowly dawning after the fact.

Grinning, you mimicked him, tilting your head just so. “You had a list, and you forgot, so what’s your excuse?”

Din simply stared at you for a long moment before he turned and walked away, climbing up the ladder into the cockpit in silence.

“Don’t challenge my time management skills, Shiny,” you muttered under your breath, smirking to yourself. “I’m gonna go make a fire,” you called after him in amusement, barely looking over your shoulder his way before turning back toward the cargo hold and putting your helmet on. Once the seal had hissed all the way, you surveyed the ship for something you could use for fuel. “You’re not too attached to these extra capes, are you?”

He was down the ladder in an instant, dropping in one go. “What are you-” Din looked at the box you were staring at across the hull. “That’s a box of ammo.”

“I know,” you grinned at him through your visor. “But now I know I was right and you do have a box of backups somewhere on board.” Pulling the corner of his cape out to the side, you made a tis-king sound. “Think it’s time for a switch, Mando. This one has seen better days. Smelled them, too.”

The Mandalorian snapped the material out of your grip. “It doesn’t smell that ba-”

“Why do you think I put on my helmet?” You teased.

You chuckled, turning away from Din while he grunted at the slight as you lowered the ramp, a blast of cold air rolling up the plank.

“Just stay inside the ship, it’s warmer,” he protested.

“The repairs needed have to start outside.” Tugging your own cape around you a bit more snuggly, you suddenly felt a lift of weight off your shoulders as Din removed your jetpack. “What are you doing? I need that in case I have to make a dash-”

“Be quiet,” he grumbled, setting it gently at his feet before you felt a bit of extra weight coming around your shoulders, and an extra layer of heat. “This will help some. Not much, but it’s better than nothing.” He smoothed the shoulders of his cape over your own before pulling the back to the side and reattaching your jetpack back to where it needed to be. The warmth from his own body heat still clung to the tattered fibers, weaving into your own, bleeding into a pleasant hum of contentment that settled into your very bones.

Pulling the cape tighter around you, its larger size swallowing you somewhat and acting more like a coat than anything, you tucked your chin down toward your right shoulder as inconspicuously as possible, and took a deep, measured breath. You smiled, letting it out silently through your nose, lifting your head and staring down the ramp at the world of whites and light blues as it continued to assault the Crest with harsh temperatures. “Cozy,” you agreed. “Thank you.”

The weight of his Ambam Rifle came across your shoulders next, resting neatly under your jetpack.

“For safety,” he reasoned at your slight head tilt in question.

You bobbed your head in acceptance. “Safety.” When the moment hung quiet too long, you did what you always did. “I’ll shoot any suspicious snowflakes on sight.”

To your surprise, Din chuckled in response. “Give ‘em hell.” He gave your shoulder a single pat before withdrawing his hands. “Those are not gifts. I want them back,” he teased, wagging a finger near your face when you turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“You got it,” you nodded.

Xxx

The pirate ships had continued to make pass by’s over the next few days, every few hours. One of their dingy little craft would streak across the sky overhead outside of the cave your little clan had tucked away into with the Crest, their comms chatter peppering over the frequency scanner you had running a sweep discretely in the background to catch whatever you could.

You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why they were so persistent. Of all your contacts, pirates were the least proficient, often wrong and just after a few extra credits.

That’s when it clicked.

“Din,” you posed after day three, eyeing the kid to make sure he didn’t get too close to where the rations were hidden after he’d discovered them five times already. “I know why we’re stuck.” Your eyes flew up to his visor where he stood to your left next to the heater; a fire probably would have been warmer but after that first day you decided it would have given off too much smoke and, thus, your location.

“You mean besides the broken hyperdrive?” Din’s voice was droll.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m working on it!” Pressing up onto your palm a bit to sit slightly straighter, your expression turned somber as you held his beskar gaze. “Us.”

You turned back to look at the heater absently, one knee bending to prop up your arm. “Someone’s put a bounty out on us.”

Xxx

You could hear the chitter of the spiders at night. The tapping of their multiple legs skittering across the ice just out of sight.

Standing at the top of the ramp, staring out into the darkness, you sighed when Din came up beside you.

“Anything?” He asked in amusement.

Pulling your helmet off in aggravation, you groaned. “No. They don’t give off heat so this is useless.” You jiggled the helmet before tucking it under your arm. “Kick on the high beams on the side of the Crest for a minute. I want to see in that offshoot over there.”

“That seems like a bad idea.”

“They don’t fly over this time of night, they won’t see-”

“Not the lights,” he corrected. “Knowing what’s out there in the dark.”

“Then call me stupid-”

“I will.”

You glared up at him through your lashes.

With a chuckle, he stepped forward, his boots a hollow thud on the ramp. “Let’s just try this first.” Din reached up and flipped on the light on the side of his helmet. It was a mere candle in comparison to the beams you’d asked for, barely making it to the foot of the offshoot you’d wanted to see into, but that was enough.

Legs. Hundreds of legs standing in place, aside from the slight shift ever so slightly away from the light, stood just at the edge of the beam's field of view.

“What are they waiting for?” You muttered as a shudder ran down your spine.

A smaller spider about the size of your fist ran out into the snow, sliding to a stop when some of the larger ones closer to your size hissed at it. It made an about face and went back to the group.

“A reason,” Din murmured.

“Do they really need one?” You scoffed incredulously.

His head tilted to the side in thought. “You’re right. They’re probably waiting for something big to happen….” He turned his head to look at you. “And by that I mean someone big to show up.”

You swallowed. “They get bigger?”

A high pitched squeal sounded from deep in the offshoot, a low rumble answering it from further in, and suddenly you understood why the pirates were okay with waiting you out.

“A lot bigger,” Din nodded.

Xxx

A few more days passed and your clan was surviving on an emergency stash of rations Peli must have stowed away knowing something like this would happen. Grogu had pulled one out after your stomach had rumbled for the fifth time on day three of no food, crawling across the floor with a bag as big as he was.

“How goes the hyperdrive?” Din, lowered to his haunches, asked from his perch above where you were dropped down into a hole in the floor of the Crest, banging away at the engine in hopes it would right itself.

You stopped, peering up at him as you wiped your brow and grease from the engine smeared across your forehead, your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

“We’ve had a few…. Visitors.”

“With eight legs or two?” You shuddered, thinking of the ice spiders who got closer with every day. Setting the spanner against the engine, you cranked it against the screw to tighten it. “Two I can handle.”

Din chuckled. “Two. But-” He stood abruptly, peering down the open ramp.

“What? What is it?” You released the spanner, leaving it stuck halfway up mid-crank.

Suddenly, Din raised his Amban Rifle and shot, the sound echoing off the ice walls of the cavern, and causing a small avalanche of ice and snow to rain down on the top of the ship.

Lowering your voice accusingly, your hands went to your hips. “What did you do?”

Resting the rifle back along his spine, he looked down at you. “Work faster. We’ve got company.”

As you turned back to the spanner, you grumbled over the ratcheting sound, “If we could just have a droid, I could be helping you.”

“This again?” Din sighed, raising his blaster to aim down the ramp again as you began beating on the stubbornly stuck screw.

“Oh, yes. This. Again.” With a final decidedly hard whack, the screw let loose and oil of some kind began to shoot out from behind it, coating your pristine white armor in purple goo. “Kriff! Dank farrik!” Shielding your face with your hands, you looked up toward Din. “Help me!”

He let off another shot down the ramp, quickly followed by two more, his blaster smoking as he held his aim. “I am helping.”

The growl you let out in frustration had him rolling his head sarcastically. “Kid. Hey, kid.” He jerked his head toward you as he looked across the cargo hold at Grogu who once again had his head stuck in a ration pack. “Put that down and toss her that thing that’s on the crate.”

“Your cape?!” You asked hopefully, applying pressure to the leak with your hand, which only helped to keep it out of your face, liquid shooting out around your fingers.

Din snorted. “You wish.” He shot again. “It’s that coat thing you bought at the market last week. What’s it called?”

“My sweater?” You felt the downturn of your face pull it into something sour.

“That’s it!” Din slapped his thigh with his free hand. “Your sweater.”

Your features turned from downtrodden to menacing in no time flat. “Din Djarin, give me one of your capes right now-”

The sweater floated over the hole you were in by an unseen force, and fell onto your face unceremoniously.

“Too late,” you heard the other Mandalorian say, his voice muffled through the fabric. “Thanks, kid.” His footsteps started down the ramp before you could rip the material off. Once you had, though, he was already halfway down the ramp, and nearly out of your line of sight, only the tops of his shoulders and up could be seen. “Now get fixing,” he called back up to you, his voice carrying well in the quiet cave, a slight echo tingeing his words the further outside the ship he went. “We’re about to have a full house, and I’m not liking the idea of sharing the last ration pack with a bunch of low life’s and spiders.”

Grogu squawked in protest, not liking the sound of sharing his precious food.

The leak now managed to something closer to a trickle, you grumbled as you worked on bypassing that chamber altogether. “When we get back to Tatooine, we’re getting a droid, I don’t care what you say, Djarin.”

Din groaned, stepping to the side before taking another shot, his head tilting in annoyance. “We can talk about it.”

“We are talking about it. I’m saying we’re getting one. End of discussion.” The engine charged as you flipped to a separate breaker, whirring as it began to come back to life. “There. We need about fifteen minutes for it to fully come back online. In the meantime,” you pushed yourself back up onto the main deck, climbing out and onto your feet. Sliding your helmet on, blasters already in hand, you looked to Din, then down the ramp. “Tell me where to shoot.”

An errant blaster bolt from the mouth of the cave ricocheted off the top of the ship, setting loud alarms blaring from a nearby panel. “What now?!” You moaned, trudging over to the panel to read the latest report. “They took out our long range comms.”

“Well climb up there and fix it! I’ll cover you!”

Shifting your weight from side to side, you could just begin to hear the pirates gathering outside the cave. “Surely the spiders got them by now. I sent a few men ahead to scout the area, make sure it was clear. They should be meeting us here at the mouth of the cave soon. We only need proof they are dead to collect the bounty. You go in there and…. No, I’m not going. I outrank you. You go. No…. No! I said-”

As the pirates continued to bicker, Din looked at you curiously. “What’s wrong? Go fix the comms.”

“That’s on top of the ship, right?”

Din stood up straight, his head tilted in amusement. “Aw, is my head of strategy and tactics afraid of heights?”

“No,” you insisted, standing up straighter yourself before parroting his words from a few days prior about the spiders back at him. “But I don’t particularly like them.”

“We jump to hyperspace without comms and something goes wrong, we are in deep-”

“Fine!” You barked, holstering your blasters with unneeded force. “But they touch one inch of my beskar with their blaster bolts-”

Din shook his head. “They won’t even see me coming.”

Xxx

It all happened so quickly.

You were atop the Crest, lowered to your haunches using the torch in your vambrace to reattach the antenna, grumbling about getting the next astromech you saw for sale, when blaster bolts whizzed by your head from behind, sending you falling to your seat.

Without thinking, you drew one of your blasters, turned, and shot, watching three pirates drop, one after each shot.

Rolling over onto your hands and knees, you crawled to the edge of the ship, and looked down to find Din looking up at you.

Both of you spoke at the same time, your “I thought you were covering me?!” overlapping his, “Why are you shooting when you’re supposed to be working?!”

A moment of silence passed before you both spoke over the other again, his “I was covering you, they missed, didn’t they?” overlapping your, “I am working, but this would go a lot faster if you would toss me up a blowtorch, Mand’alor!”

Din sighed. “Fine.” He stepped into the ship for a moment, leaving you to watch for any trespassers. He finally reemerged and tossed the tool up to you. “Keep working.”

You huffed. “Yeah, yeah.” Shimmying back toward the broken comm tower, you called back to him over your shoulder, “Keep shooting.” After pulling out the proper wires to fuse, you turned back to him again. “And next time, read the fine print!”

“The what?”

“On your list! Read everything! Even the fine print! That way we can avoid situations like these.”

Silence, then, “Are you really blaming me for us being shot at by your informants?”

“I’m-”

Skittering across the hull of the ship in front of you made you stop everything you were doing, frozen mid movement, blowtorch inches away from frying a wire beyond fixing. From your seated position, you lifted your eyes only to peer through your visor and spotted eight long slender legs cresting over the top of the ship, coming closer and closer toward you. A body soon followed, smaller than you, but bigger than any bug had a right to be.

Din kept calling your name, his voice raising in volume each time when you didn’t answer, but you ignored it in favor of making sure the bug was dead.

In seconds you’d flipped the switch on the blowtorch back to simply the initial release of fuel before a spark, brought your other arm over behind it, and ignited your flamethrower to send a wall of fire at the menace.

Its squeal of agony was swallowed up in the angry growl of the flames as it went up in smoke, falling off the ship in a twitching mess of limbs.

You turned off your vambrace, but left the blowtorch on for good measure. Its reassuring hiss as it continued to release fuel music to your ears. Should any of its hellish friends come to visit, you were ready.

“The hell?!” Din’s voice called from below. “You’re supposed to be fixing the ship, not blowing it up!” When you still didn’t answer he went on. “What happened?”

Turning off the tool’s supply of fuel, you kept your eyes peeled for any more legs before finally mumbling, “Sweet, sweet justice.”

“Do I even want to kn-”

Another spider dropped down onto the ship behind you, between you and Din, with a thunk. A thin silvery string of web shining like ice from the ceiling still attached to its back as it started to skitter towards you pulled your gaze away for only a second.

Without another thought, you switched the blowtorch back on and lit the bug up with your vambrace, sending it screeching over the edge of the ship, landing at Din’s feet with a satisfying thud.

Turning both the torch and your vambrace off, you walked to the edge of the ship and peered down to see Din staring at the smoking spider.

The pirates at the mouth of the cave muttered quiet curses, one even swearing a soft, “They have fire?!” and ducked behind large ice drifts in the ensuing silence, their fear palpable as they took in the dead arachnid at the feet of the Mandalorian by the hands of the other Mandalorian.

You smirked. Hopefully this made them think twice before poking someone in beskar ever again. And maybe they would even spread the word to their sleazeball friends.

Watching the tendrils of smoke rise into the air from the corpse at Din’s feet, you kept your voice even. “No. I don’t think you want to know.”

Xxx

Once the shock had worn off for the pirates, the firefight had opened up again, more fast and furious than before.

You laid out on the top of the ship on your belly picking off stragglers who tried to cross the open space between ice drifts, Din laying down cover fire from his perch on the ramp to keep them pinned down. The errant spider here and there kept pulling your attention away, the fuel in both your vambrace and the blowtorch running low.

“Din, if I don’t finish this comm tower soon, we’re just kriff outta luck.”

“The hyperdrive should be charged by now, we could just make the jump.”

“Yeah but like you said, something goes wrong, as a friend of mine used to say, thatsa big pudu.”

“Did you just….”

“I’ll never say it again, I’m sorry. He was Gungan-”

“No, no…. You had a friend?”

Looking down at him over the edge of the Crest, you bent your wrist and let your whistling birds fly, taking out a wave of the pirates to give both of you a slight reprieve. As Din took a deep breath, it was cut short when something hit his helmet with a ting before landing at his feet and disappearing in the snow.

He looked up to you slowly. “Did you just…. Throw…. A….” Din looked down at the ground just to be sure. “Vibroblade at my head?” Bending down to his haunches, quickly, he scooped up the item, then rose to his feet as he stared at it. Din gave no other reaction as he stared at the item for a long moment in silence, until finally, he turned to hold your gaze with a dubious shake of his head.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “I knew what I was doing,” you defended. “You weren’t in any danger.”

He hesitated. “Except from the knife flying at my face!”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re wearing beskar. Don’t insult me next time, then.” You shrugged. “Simple solution, Djarin.”

Din took a step toward the hull of the Crest, his neck craning further back to keep looking up at you. “I’m the Mand’alor. That was attempted murder.”

You scoffed. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

His weight shifted to one side in annoyance. “Did you miss the word attempted?”

You pulled yourself on your belly further over the edge, and effectively closer to him, tilting your head to the right as you looked down at him wordlessly. Finally, after a long moment, your voice lowered to something both playful and menacing, causing Din to take a small step back, “If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

Several spiders dropped down between the ship and the pirates who were scrambling to reassemble into any kind of fighting order. After a moment of decision, they began to move toward the Crest.

Before either of you could start to shoot, Grogu stepped off the ramp and toward the bugs, holding one hand out.

“Kid!” Din cried, taking a step forward.

“Mando!” You tried, pulling him to a stop with just your voice. He glanced up at you quickly, and you shook your head before bobbing it toward the kid. “Look.”

When he turned back, Din saw that the spiders had stopped moving, deciding instead to gather round and stare at the tiny green creature.

His eyes were closed in concentration, his face screwed up in focus, until after a moment he blinked them open and gave a slight wave of his hand away as if to shoo a smell.

The spiders rocked side to side for a moment just slightly before they turned and surveyed the pirates.

The thieves who had been smiling at the exchange as if they’d won immediately melted into faces of worry and began backing away.

For each step back the spiders gained several forward until each group was running, one from the other, one to the first.

Din wasted no time, turned to you and said, “Finish it.”

“But I wanna see how it ends….” You groused, sighing at his head tilt in admonishment. “Fine.” Turning, you went back to the antenna, scuffing your foot on the hull of the ship. “Tell me who wins.”

With one last zap the comms were fixed, and the three of you were climbing into the ship, firing up the engines.

“Punch it!” You called, climbing up the ladder into the cockpit.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Din mumbled, maneuvering the ship out of the cave.

As he slowly twisted and turned to move the hulking ship out of the ice, you nudged his shoulder while climbing into your seat beside him, flipping over to your controls. “You don’t fly right.”

“Well, somebody had to save our skins.”

Both of you looked at Grogu as you entered the upper atmosphere of the planet, finding him munching on spider eggs he somehow had stashed away in the cockpit for a rainy day.

You smiled. “Yeah. We both know who saved us back there.”

The two of you said at the same time, “Me.”

Looking at each other, you both spoke in unison once again, “What do you mean you?!”

Grogu sighed before he giggled softly, mumbling a tired but good natured, “Patu!”

Xxx

Tags: @lam-ila @oliviajdjarin @peonyophelia @what-the-heckin-heck @itsavicf @just-shut-up-kid @noodlesavailable @mildlyhopeless @multifandomsw @professionalfangrrl @tizylish @whoodattt @heyitsaloy @djarinsimp @athenasproverbs @achelois-is-here @snow30285 @jallen0126 @jxvipike @kodzuvk @untitledarea @crazyworldofsiani @adora-but-ginger @momc95 @babygirlrex0504 @sexysquatch @harriedandharassed @burningfieldof-clover @theclassicvinyldragon @heyitsjaybird What’s This?

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ithinkwehitametaphor · 8 months ago

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Hi!!

List 5 favorite moments throughout the Mandalorian series. And why are they your favorite?

💚

Bonus: give a shout out to a favorite Mando Fando writer with a fav fic

Din knowing Tusken sign language. <3 It's just so wholesome. I love that a deaf actor came up with this language for the episode.

Din and the Jawas. He was so done. The entire interaction was just hilarious. (You sound like a Wookiee!) I feel his pain.

Pilot Grogu. :3 Because I think it's fun when he misbehaves. He may be 50 but he's definitely a child.

The entire first episode of season two. T__T (I know that's not a moment but I truly love this episode. It's my favorite. It's perfect. It has Timothy Olyphant.)

This moment because it shows the bond between Mando and Grugu

Din calling Grogu by his name. I just love how full of wonder he is and how much fun they have here.

Thanks for asking! <3

Edit: I forgot the shout-out 😅. I honestly don't read fanfic on here, so instead I wanna give a shout-out to @littlemisspascal who compiles the Pedro Library! I think there's something in there for every taste! Thank you for your diligent work!!!!

#the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu #replies #games #anon

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

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𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑰'𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫

pairing: tommy miller x fem!reader

genre: smut, soft enemies to lovers, minors dni

word count: 3.4k

summary: when you met him the first time him and his brother was your captor, months later he becomes yours, and quickly after that he become a resident of Jackson. You've already forgiven him for his past, but he's not happy with how eager you are to excuse what he's done.

warnings: tommy having a hero complex, tommy lashing out, piv sex, time skips, oral (giving & receiving)

a/n: the format I've written this in is inspired by @littlemisspascal 's getting lost is being found joel fic, which I highly recommend by the way it was amazing, one of my favorite things ever 💜

The world went to shit, well joke on the world, your life was already shit long before outbreak day.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Nothing just seemed to work out for you. But then all hell broke loose and suddenly it felt like you were off the hook, that you could be someone else, someone you always wanted to be. Someone that you knew you were. Before all this, you were just hurt, felt broken, but still smiled and went about your day. You tried to be good. Tried to be nice. For the most part, you like to think that you succeeded.

You became a guide. Somewhat similar to Charon, if you spared yourself the thought but instead of guiding the dead to Hades, you guided the living away from it. Things went smooth for the most part, you helped people where they needed to go, killed infected, shot down those who shot first. It was the oddest type of freedom that you felt.

But life had other plans, and life loved to point its middle finger right into your face.

It’s a dad and his two kids this time, you were helping them get to the nearest QZ. You cut the fence, helped them through, you knew hunters were lurking nearby, people who survived on killing and stealing—vultures.

You feel a tight grip on your neck and you’re being violently pulled back. The kids look back at you with horror lingering in their eyes, the dad eager to pull them away. With a deep breath, you manage to force out a smile.

“Go!” you shout. “You’re almost there!”

And they run, they run as fast as they can.

“Fuck!” you hear one of them say, a deep souther drawl heavy in your ear. “Shit, they got away. They had good weapons on them too.”

“At least we got the one,” the man that holds you answers. “Let’s go back, see what this one has.”

“Let me the fuck go!” you struggle, attempting to elbow him in the stomach. “You fucking assholes. They were fucking kids.”

Finally one comes into view, he’s broad—broad enough to stun you into silence. The fear of death lurks around your heart, sucking you into a black pit of realizing that this might be it. He has a glare that could kill, a hooked nose, and, most importantly, a gun. This man, you notice, this man would kill you in a heartbeat. He gives you one last once-over before tilting his head to the other holding you down.

“Knock her out, Tommy.”

ii.

It’s late. Far too late for anyone to be awake. The embers of the crackling fire had died down, only specks of golden orange shimmering between the ash. You’ve learned the names of your captors; Tommy and Joel. Brothers, you assumed, they didn’t really have to spell it out for it to be obvious.

You’re not sure why you’re still alive. You remember Joel muttering something about using you as bait, or to learn more about the routes that you seemed to know. Tommy had agreed.

In another life, another time, you would’ve deemed the men attractive. Especially Tommy. He had a boyish charm to him, longer hair compared to his brother (those poor dark locks had definitely seen better days), and mussed unkempt facial hair indicating that they’d been at this for a long time. You understand, to a degree, why someone might choose this to survive. Some people just didn’t know what else to do. Some people simply enjoyed it; the power, the freedom, the giddiness of not having a system to say no.

From what you understand, these two just had no idea what else to do. Too far off to reach a QZ, or they simply don’t trust FEDRA, whatever it is they seem to have made a life for themselves neither of them looked happy to be in.

Your eyes fall to where Joel is sleeping, Tommy’s on watch, which makes you somewhat hopeful, you don’t have the strength to piss off Joel—Tommy you can take a chance with, he seemed softer. Softer like a rose, pricking you if you’re too lax and not careful enough.

You’ve been captured before, and due to that, it doesn’t take long for you to free yourself from the hard ropes they tied you in. You hold your breath as you move away from the camp, careful not to step on any branches or rubble. You see Tommy ahead, he’s looking at you, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You expect him to shoot, to chase after you.

He continues to stare as you disappear into the night.

ii.

You see a lot of dead bodies by the riverbed. Some infected, some not. You think about turning around, walking back to where you came from but before you can make a decision you’re surrounded. Your hands rise instantly, not wanting to cause trouble. Multiple rifles are pointed directly at you, and you notice a cute black dog but you have an inkling you won’t be feeling the same in a couple of minutes.

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” you say, the cold seeping through your jacket. “Just lost. I’m not infected.”

“Naive for you to think we’ll believe you,” one of the horsemen answers. “You mind if we test that out?”

You didn’t mind, but even if you did, you doubt you have any say in the matter. The dog comes forward, ears pressed against his skull, and you instinctively reach out your hand. You can’t really feel the wetness of his nose, but you can imagine it as he presses into your gloved palm. A moment later he starts wagging his tail.

A horse, along with its rider, steps up and everyone looks nervously at the equestrian. You straighten yourself and notice that even the dog pulls away, the energy she has demands respect, and oozes power. You swallow, looking up at her with both amusement and fear.

"You can come with us," she says, and without hesitation, one of the men helps you up onto the horse they're riding. Your hands fumble nervously as you grab onto the horse's shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

You’re not dead yet so you must be doing something right.

iv.

You trudge through the biting snow, your skin prickles with cold and the relentless flakes melt as soon as they touch your skin. You shudder. The cold is almost unbearable, but everyone has to pull their weight, no exceptions. Narrowing your eyes,, you spot a lone figure struggling in the snow. The way he moves is sluggish and ungainly, like a snail inching its way along a path.

With a sharp whistle, you signal to your companions to follow. They circle around the body with hesitation; it’s a man, a man that is somewhat familiar to you. The stranger groans and turns to his back, chest heaving heavily, you notice the tremble of his lips, the redness of his nose. You even notice the build-up of snow in his hair.

You know him. You have no idea how he ended up all the way here, but you know him. Getting off the horse, you shake your head. You don't know him, not really. You only know his name and what he represents.

Ian approaches, his eyes questioning as he asks, "What should we do? Should we leave him?"

“I know him,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice due to the irony. “Let’s take him in. I’ll talk to Maria.”

His eyes flutter open, a brief expression of confusion appearing on his features. You can’t help but lean over a bit, hands placed on your hips.

“You’re not dead yet. Don’t worry.”

But as soon as the words leave your lips, Tommy loses consciousness.

He’s alone at the bar. He’s always alone.

Initially, Maria was reluctant to let Tommy stay, but for some reason, you vouched for him. You deeply believe that everyone deserves a second chance. A slightly foolish, maybe even childish, thought on your part but you can’t help it. In his eyes you only see parts of a broken man, his belief in the world shattered and gone with the wind.

Tommy struggles with socializing. He says hi and good morning but that’s pretty much all anyone can get out of him. You’re the only one who knows he has a brother, what he’s done. He’s especially annoyed when you’re around, which you think is a little bit unfair but you digress. He does what he’s told and handy with most things—which is lucky for you, you would hear a handful if he couldn’t do anything.

You want to talk to him, you have ever since you first saw him again. Hoping that this time it’ll be different, you sit near him not next to him. There are two empty seats between you two.

“Hi,” you greet him, he doesn’t look at you. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge you at all. “How are you?”

No answer.

“You’re not having any issues right? You know, heating, water pressure, all that jazz.”

You’re not surprised at the least when he gets up and leave, not a word uttered. He pushes past the crowd and disappears through the door, into the cold. Unlike other times, this is the first instance where anger simmers hot in your gut. You’ve been nothing but patient. But not tonight. He’s going to talk to you whether he likes it or not.

With anger in your steps, you storm out. Luckily, he’s not far. You find him staring up at the undecorated Christmas tree. Normally, you would find it a somber sight, but you’re too frustrated to think about how good he looks with snow falling around him.

“Tommy!” you yell out, and he flinches, head snapping to you with wide eyes. “What the hell is your deal?”

“My deal?” he answers, voice eerily smooth and calm. “I should be fuckin’ asking you that.”

You’re standing an inch from him, the cold biting into your skin. “My deal? I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Wouldn’t wanna play that card but may I remind you that you’re fucking alive because of me? You could at least not be an asshole.”

“Sure you wanna go that route sweetheart? Because I could easily say the same thing for you.”

That night—the night that you escaped, so he did see you. All this time you convinced yourself that it was your eyes playing tricks in the dark. You shake your head, wanting to dislodge the moment from your mind.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” you hiss. “Why are you avoiding me? I just want to talk.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone. You shouldn’t want to talk to me— someone like you… It ain’t normal. I should’ve died that night. I didn’t ask you to fuckin’ save me.”

You’re taken aback by the silent rage but refuse to show him the effect he has. The only indication that his words had any kind of result is when you take a step back, allowing him some semblance of space.

“You’re right, you didn’t,” you say softly, slowly. His gaze bores into you. “But I did. And you’re here. I didn’t save you that night to just make a point of who’s the better person. As you said, you allowed me to go that night—thank you by the way—but what are you going to do, just not talk to me? Ignore me? I don’t think that’s fair for either of us.”

You stand frozen as Tommy takes a step closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"What do you want from me?" he growls, his voice low and threatening.

You try to take a step back but he follows, closing the gap between you. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the frigid air around you. His lips curl into a slight sneer, and you can't help but feel a slight twinge of fear.

"You're always so nice, aren't you?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But what do you really want? You want me to be your little pet? Fixing me up like some broken toy. Well, newsflash, sweetheart, I'm not broken. I'm just fine the way I am."

"That’s not—" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That wasn’t my intention at all. The world is shit, I just didn’t want to add to it."

Tommy scoffs, his eyes glinting with anger. "But you did by keeping me alive. I did horrible things, things you can’t even imagine. So don't pretend like you understand me, because you don't."

“I know the shit you did Tommy. I was almost one of your victims, remember?”

His eyes drop to the ground, the fire in his eyes finally fading. He takes a quick step back, shoulder slumped, he shakes his head.

“I remember. There ain’t a day I don’t remember the shit I’ve done—we’ve done with my brother.”

Tommy gives you one last look before walking away, “I don’t need your pity.”

Half an hour later, you’re still standing there under the snow, completely alone.

vi.

It’s a dance almost. You find different ways for Tommy to communicate with you. You unlock his anger, his disappointment, his need to be good—the hero, if you will. But to be fair, you can’t take all the credit. It was mostly due to him, you got too close, and he got too frustrated. It was a brief moment of lips touching, then it quickly turned into a desperate ask for submission. You were eager to give, he hated that. Hated that you could when he couldn’t.

You know that there’s a high chance of other things lingering below the surface, things that he probably hadn’t dared to address himself.

In the privacy of your bedroom, you’re on your knees for him. Sucking on the tip of his cock eagerly as he stands upright, his hands are firsts that are stuck to his sides. This isn’t the first time, it isn’t the last. By the way salty precum coats your tongue, you know he’s enjoying himself. He has to be, if he wasn’t this wouldn’t be happening.

You figure that he enjoys fighting against it until he breaks. When he surrenders himself to it, to the pleasure, to the primal need to take, he pins you down and fucks you with everything he has. All his frustration seeps into you, each stroke deeper than the next. You enjoy that he’s rough, you enjoy feeling the lingering sting on your skin long after he leaves.

Looking up, you swallow him further down. He’s not overly thick but long, the dark curls at the base trimmed but still looking untouched. Tommy thrusts forward, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Your nostrils flare as your lungs convulse with the need to cough, he notices but doesn’t pull back. Instead, you feel two hands cradling the back of your neck, pulling you further down his length, making you take him whole.

Your eyes go wide and squeeze shut right after. You feel him throbbing in your throat and you swallow, again and again, which prompts him to drag his cock out slightly only to bury himself back into your throat. Your jaw aches, spit dripping down the corners of your lips as you flatten your tongue over the underside of his cock. A faint growl echoes from the back of his throat, you swallow again, he fucks your mouth as he would your wet cunt. Tears flood your lashline, you can barely breathe. Your throat tightens around him.

“Fuck, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, the dark curls at the base tickling your nose. “Look at me. Look at me like you always do.”

The Look, is something that you still don’t quite understand. He says it often, telling you to look at him the way that you do, but you emphasize nothing special when you do end up looking at him. It’s just your normal gaze. He only asks for it when he’s inside you.

You slowly open your eyes, your lashes wet and stuck together. His thumb smooths over the patch of skin right under your eye, his chest stutters, muscles growing taut under your gaze.

Ironically, he closes his eyes and lifts his head as if staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t utter another word after that, your lips raw from the way he thrust forward. You feel the twitch of his cock, thick ropes sliding down your throat. You never tire of the taste of him. Not sweet, not bitter. You enjoy the brief moment he forgets where he is, that soft noise escaping his lips, the juvenile way his thighs shake—those are the things that make you ache for the taste of him. You’re an addict.

But so is he.

vii.

Your palms press into the smooth surface of the bar counter. Tommy lurks behind you, cock pressing inside, fingers making dents into your warm skin. It’s late into the night, you’re not sure of the exact time but you know it’s late. His one hand slips between your legs, he feels how wet you are, how needy you get for him. He presses a finger to your clit, the pads of the digits moving in deft circles.

A sharp moan parts your lips, back arching as he pounds into you, the sound of skin against skin loud, yet not enough to pierce the sound of the snowstorm outside. A dose of pleasure buzzes through your veins, electricity crackling across your skin as you feel his length press deep inside. His fingers grasp your throat, pulling you up until his lips tickle your ear. He heaves, his warm breath fanning your skin.

“Tell me I’m a good person,” he chokes out. “Please.”

“You’re good,” you answer slightly out of breath. You touch his neck, the position slightly straining but worth it when he holds you tighter. “Such a good man—and I mean that.”

Your eyes widen with shock when he slides his tongue into your mouth. Tommy doesn’t kiss you often, if at all, but it lights a fire under your stomach. It burns you from the inside out, the smoke of it making your mind spin. Your eyes flutter close and you take a deep breath, he grinds his hips, your insides pulsing around him.

“I don’t care even if you’re lyin’—”

He releases you and you stumble forward, hands finding purchase on the bar counter once more. But you can’t hold your position for long, not with the way he’s hammering into you, reducing you into a babbling mess. Your hands slide, your upper body completely falling over. Tommy doesn’t pause, he doesn’t even slow down. He presses you further into the surface.

“Because I know that you are.”

Tommy suddenly pulls out, a sharp gasp rips from your throat, your cunt clenching around nothing. Before you can protest, however, he turns you over and pushes you. He kneels between your legs, lips finding the tender folds of your pussy.

Your head falls back when he licks into you eagerly, tasting himself and your arousal. His groans vibrate against you, your thighs threaten to close, the meat of them pressing into both sides of his face.

His lips press against your clit, suckling and teasing it in a way that drives you wild. His tongue moves in circles as he pushes two fingers, curling them and applying pressure. Without a second thought, you fingers thread his hair, tugging him closer. Arousal pools between your legs.

Your breathing becomes labored and your body starts to shake. Your eyes roll back as your entire body shakes. Your hips buck against him as he continues to bring you over the edge, your cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the bar.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you collapse against the bar counter, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. You can feel your skin tingling, your heart pounding and your head spinning. Tommy stands, a hint of pride lingering in his dark eyes. You continue to breathe and watch as he fists himself, the tip of his cock a shade darker when he comes thick ropes over your stomach. You hiss at the heat, the feeling of having a part of him staining you.

Tommy pulls up his pants, and you notice as you get dressed, he’s avoiding your gaze. You’re too satisfied to care. He licks his lips, which you found was a nervous habit he has and offers you his arm. You hadn’t expected it, but indulge in the gesture by taking it.

“Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years ago

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Marry me?

Pairings: Javier Pena x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of sex, mentions of a breeding kink. I think that’s it 😊

Summary: Javier Peña’s wedding day. (Set in the Love Me or Leave Me universe) which I will get back to.

A/N: I saw this gif and was inspired. Just a lil something small to break from kinktober 💕 also this gif isn’t mine so if you know who made it…hit me up and I’ll tag you. 🥰

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The sound of your heels echo off the tiled floor alerting Javi to your presence. He turns slightly and then does a double take, eyes wide as he takes you in. The long white satin dress, hugging your curves in all the right places. Connie had helped with hair - which was curled loosely over your shoulders - and makeup.

“You look….beautiful, mi amor. Fuck, I’m a lucky man,” Javi breathed out as he pulled you close and touched his lips to yours softly. Deciding to be cheeky you lick along his bottom lip and he moans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening.

“Can’t you two at least wait until you're back at the hotel? Ow!” Steve shouts as he gets nudged in the ribs by Connie. Javi pulls away but keeps his arm firmly around your waist as he smiles back at his friend.

“Thought you might want a show. See how it’s really done, amigo.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide since it’s your wedding day and all. Now, come on you two. Let’s get the show on the road.” Javi smiles brightly down at you, happiness radiating off him. “Ready to become Mrs Pena?”

“As I’ll ever be.” He kisses you again - just a quick peck on the lips. “Think your Pops will be mad at us for this?”

Javi shakes his head. “Nah, he’s more interested in us giving him grandbabies.”

“Oh no. Hold on, who said anything about babies?” You stare up at the now retired DEA agent. The man who’s become everything to you with a cheeky smile. “You don’t want to have my babies, mi amor?” One of his eyebrows is raised as he smiles down at you. Both arms sliding around you again. His eyes roam your face before he stares into your eyes. “Maybe I need to convince you then.”

“And how are you gonna do that, Mr Pena?”

“Can think of a few ways.”

“Hmm. I’m sure you can.” Leaning up a little you brush your lips against his ear. “Better marry me first then if you wanna make me your baby mama.”

He growls low, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your sides. “When I get you back to that hotel room, mi amor. I’m not letting you leave until I’m sure I’ve bred you.”

“You better not. Now come on and wife me up, agent Pena.”

“With pleasure.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape f1 @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @hungrhay @tusk89

#pedro pascal #javier pena x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

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imtryingmybeskar · 2 years ago

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Drabble 24 - Dio. This can be read as Dio x M! Reader or Dio x F! Reader. Either way it's very NSFW. Word count: 509

Dio is a bratty sub who needs to be tamed. Which you are very happy to do courtesy of edging and orgasm denial.

A single drop of sweat runs down the central dip of his spine and pools at the small of his back as he arches, desperate to feel more of you.

“Please…,” he begs, panting. “Plea-please.”

“Mmmm, no,” you purr, grabbing his hips to still his movements. “Bad, bratty boys don’t get to choose how they come.”

He groans, and the desperation of it sends a thrill to your abdomen. You had teased him for hours before finally sinking into him and he was near frantic, his whole body tensed and on the verge of the orgasm that you had denied him for so long.

His head drops, dips down below his shoulders as his arms tremble with the sustained effort of holding himself on all fours. You slide your hand up the smooth skin of his sweat slicked back until you are cocooning him with your smaller body. Your hand reaches out for the leather collar that sits around his neck.

“Are you gonna be good for me now, sweet boy?” you coo, pulling gently so that he is forced to turn his head and look behind him. His beautiful, boundlessly dark eyes look black in the half light of the candles that are dotted around your bedroom and he nods frantically in reply to your question.

You glide your hands back down his torso, feeling the muscles between his ribs, the heat of his overwrought body under your fingertips. “Move with me,” you command, the order couched in soft velvet and love.

He does, repeating the dance you have performed a hundred times before as you rock back on to your haunches and bring him with you, sliding him down deeper still over the cock buried inside of him. He lets out an involuntary whimper at the feeling and you hook your chin over his shoulder to take a look at your handiwork.

His own cock is beautiful and angrily large, flushed almost purple at the tip and leaking everywhere, a pool of precum in a large circular patch on the sheets where he had previously been positioned. You run your palm firmly up over his chest, holding him close to your own as you lick a stripe up his shoulder and he visibly twitches as he desperately fights to control himself.

“Will you always be my good boy?” you whisper in his ear, gently biting down on his earlobe as he stutters his reply.

“Y-yes. Oh yes. I’ll be g-good always. I sw-swear.”

“Then use me,” you murmur. “Use my cock to come, Dio.”

He keens, a noise of relief and desperate desire, and begins to rock back on to you, angling himself until he hits that spot deep inside. A ragged shout is torn from his throat as he comes in seconds, his cock entirely untouched and yet spattering over the wall, the headboard, the pillows and sheets.

Quivering, he sinks back against you, relying entirely on your strength to keep him upright. You murmur sweet nonsense and praise into his ear, savouring holding him close.

@thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities

#shane dio morrissey #dio x reader #dio x you #dio x M! reader #dio x F! reader #shane dio morrissey x you #shane dio morrissey x reader #drabble challenge #drabbles #pure smut

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ezraspiderwick · 3 years ago

Text

Even If It's a Lie (chapter 8)

Characters: Javier Peña, Connie Murphy

Word count: 3k

Rating: mature

Warnings: Javi is in the hospital, this is not medically accurate at all, medical procedures, angst but also healing. Enjoy!

A/N: This is my first completed series. Thanks to everyone who has been with me on this journey. I've had a blast sharing this story with all of you ❤️

Also thanks to @littlemisspascal for beta reading!

Part 1 / Part 7

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

Doctors shouting orders. Nurses moving around trying to follow them. Needles, tubes, white gauzes turned red. Amidst the chaos, there was only one important thing to focus on, the rising and falling of Javi’s chest. Even if the movement was shallow, it meant he was alive, so as long as it was there, her friend had the chance of making it. Connie was so focused, that only when Steve placed a hand on her shoulder she snapped her head in his direction, unaware her husband had called her name multiple times already.

“They are taking him to surgery,” he informed her just as the gurney was taken away. She got up to follow them, only to be stopped by Steve’s gentle hold of her arm. “We have to wait here.”

So they sat in the waiting room, a half-eaten bag of crackers and an unopened bottle of water on Connie’s lap, her stomach refusing to let her eat more. When the doctor showed up she scrambled to her feet, followed closely by Steve. The woman informed them that there had been a lot of internal bleeding and that while they had managed to get it under control, Javier waking up in the following twenty-four hours would be crucial to know what the extent of the damage really was.

Hour 1

They were taken to the ICU room Javier had been placed in. As soon as Connie saw him she rushed to his side and grabbed his hand, careful not to hurt him. She needed to let him know that he wasn’t alone, she would be with him no matter what.

Hour 2

“I’m going to get a coffee, want one?” Steve stood up from his place next to Connie and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, careful to avoid a nasty-looking bruise, anger briefly crossing his gaze before he could put on a neutral expression.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” She smiled at him, before turning back to watch Javi.

“I won’t be gone for too long.”

“Okay.”

The moment Steve left, Connie moved from the chair to sitting next to Javier on the bed, making sure to avoid touching any wound, which due to the state of his body turned out to be challenging. She combed his hair away from his forehead, the sweat that had accumulated making the strands of hair stay in place, giving him an almost peaceful appearance. She noticed that his beard had grown during their time in captivity, almost making him look like a different man.

She touched his cheek and rubbed soft circles with her thumb. “Please Javi you need to wake up, I cannot do this alone. I cannot do this without you.” As much as she wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened, everything that she was feeling, he would never understand it. He hadn’t been there, it was as simple as that. This was their experience, this was their trauma, not his.

A soft cough behind her interrupted her thoughts, making her jump. She turned around to find Carrillo standing on the door frame, he was gracious enough not to mention the way any kind of noise put her on edge. “I wanted to check on him.”

She stood up so he could get a better view of their friend. “They said the surgery went well, now he just needs to wake up.”

“I can stay with him if you want to go home and change clothes,” Carrillo offered. For the first time in a long while, Connie looked at herself and found that her clothes were barely more than rags and a layer of dirt was covering her skin. But still, the idea of being away from him, when something could happen at any minute, was unbearable.

“I-”

“I won’t let anything happen to him, Connie.” He took her hands in his. “I promise he’ll be here when you get back.” She stared at his eyes, if there was one word that would describe the man in front of her it was determined . She knew there was nothing that he wouldn’t do to fulfill a mission, and right now that mission was Javier staying alive. If something happened, he would make sure she arrived on time.

“Okay, ” she conceded. She placed a kiss on Javi’s forehead before heading for the door. “Please make sure he knows he isn’t alone.”

“I will.”

Hour 3

The first minutes with Carrillo sitting next to Javier were spent in silence as he took in the extent of the damage that had been done to his friend. The Casta ñ os had been more than happy to provide explicit details of everything that they did, hoping to get a reaction out of him, but seeing the truth in person was different. It made him regret not killing them, and only erasing the dumb smiles from their faces before handing them in for extradition.

He leaned forward, elbows placed on his knees, scrubbing his face in frustration. “Tienes que recuperarte Javier, no puedo perder a otro compa ñ ero.” You have to get better Javier, I can’t lose another partner. He couldn’t bear his loss, it would crush him. Being unable to help any other way, he did something he hadn’t done since he was a kid, he prayed to whatever god was out there to help his friend get through this.

Hour 4

“Any changes?” Connie asked upon entering the room with fresh clothes, her hair still dripping wet, Steve right behind her. Carrillo turned to look at her, his eyes red and puffy.

“No.” He stood up, signaling them to come and sit down next to Javier. “But he’ll come back to us. He has to.”

Hour 5

The rhythmic beeping of the machines was all that could be heard in the room, so the moment that Javier’s vitals spiked everyone woke up from their drowsy state as nurses and doctors came rushing through the door. Steve wrapped Connie in his arms, her head burrowed in his chest until their friend was stable again.

Hour 6

Connie turned to Steve to ask the question that had been on the back of her mind but she hadn’t dared ask, caught between worrying for Javier and a copious amount of guilt for not thinking about their daughter more.

“How’s Olivia?”

“Your sister said she is okay, missing her mom.”

“Once this is over, once he’s better, I’ll go get her.” He placed a hand on top of hers.

“Don’t worry, she’s safe, she can wait.” Connie nodded and changed topics, not having the strength to think about their little girl at the moment.

“Hey, why don’t you talk to him? I’m sure he’d like to hear his best friend.”

“Maybe later, I’ll go ask the doctors something.” Steve pressed a kiss to her knuckles and left.

Hour 10

The doors to the room busted open, and an old man neither Connie nor Steve could place came into the room and headed straight for Javier. There were tears filling his eyes, as he mumbled what sounded like a prayer in Spanish. Carrillo appeared behind him to let them know that the man was Javier’s father and that he had called him so he could be there with him if the worst were to happen.

Hour 11

Chucho was left alone with his son. He told him he needed to get better. He told him that he was strong and that he could get through it. But most of the time was spent with him looking out the window, asking Javier’s mamá to give strength to their boy so he could pull through.

Hour 13

When Chucho went out to get a coffee at Steve’s suggestion, Connie sat next to a still unconscious Javier. She was starting to fall asleep when he opened his eyes and brought a hand to the breathing tube, trying to take it out. “It’s okay, Javi, that’s helping you. You need to stop.” But he looked disoriented and there was no recognition behind those eyes, even as he was looking straight at her. Steve helped to hold him still as Connie called a nurse, who promptly injected him with a sedative.

Hour 14

Connie took Javier’s hand and placed a soft kiss against his knuckles. “Come back to us, please,” she whispered.

Hour 15

Javi’s eyes fluttered open, but this time his gaze was different, turning his head he saw Connie, and recognition dawned on his face. She was quick to grab his hand and whisper reassuring words while Steve went to look for the doctor. Javier moved his free hand to the breathing tube, but Connie was quick to stop him once again. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, the doctors are gonna take it out, right now you need to relax and let the tube help you breathe, okay?”

Javier slightly nodded and looked to his left to find his father standing there, a worried expression on his face. Javier squeezed his eyes shut before looking at Connie with pleading eyes. Thankfully, she connected the dots quickly and turned to Carrillo.

“Hey, Horacio, why don’t you take Mr. Pe ñ a to the waiting room? I’ll come get you when they clear him.” Carrillo nodded in understanding and placed a hand on Chucho's shoulder leading him away from the room. Javier’s eyes welled up with tears, and Connie side-hugged him as he silently cried. “It’s okay Javi, it's okay, we made it out. We’re going to be fine. I promise.”

Hour 16

As the tube was taken out, Connie guided him through what was happening so Javier knew what to expect and didn’t go into panic mode. As the last part of the tube left his body, he gasped for air and took shallow breaths. “Take it easy Javi, breathe in, breathe out.” She did the motions herself so he could imitate her. “See? That’s it, you’re doing great.”

He tried to speak but instead of managing to do so, he went into a coughing fit. The last nurse in the room, who had been writing down his vitals on a chart, handed Connie a glass of water for her to help him drink, before leaving with a sympathetic smile. “Your body has been through a lot, give it time.”

Still, as stubborn as he was, he tried talking only for the words to come out in a hoarse whisper. “Are you okay?”

“I am going to be.” She smiled at him. “You are too.”

He cleared his throat and grimaced at the pain that action caused. “I don’t want to see anyone, not today. Just you. Please.”

“Of course.” Connie called a nurse to let her know Javier’s petition and asked her to inform the others.

“Thank you,” he whispered as Connie climbed into the empty space on the bed next to him.

“You have nothing to thank me for, we look after each other, that’s how this works.” They fell asleep shortly after, holding hands, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they really rested.

They slept until the doctors came in to check Javier’s vitals. There was nothing but good news, the wounds were healing well and his vitals were getting stronger, with some luck he’d be able to leave the hospital in a week.

Once they left, Javier took a deep breath and turned to Connie. “I’m ready to see him.” Connie stood up to fetch Javier’s father.

Chucho came in a couple of minutes later. “Mijo-” He walked in and sat next to Javier taking his right hand between his.

“Papá, estoy bien.” Dad, I’m fine.

“No, you’re not.” Chucho gave him a tired smile. “When you were a little boy you tried to be brave about a sprained ankle so your mamá wouldn’t worry, and right now you’re doing the same. You’ve been through a lot, it’s okay not to be okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Javier insisted.

“You will, but you need to take a break and come home mijo. I don’t want to lose the only son I have.”

“Papá-”

“Please.”

A knock at the door cut their conversation short. Both Chucho and Javier looked up to find Carrillo standing there.

“Con su permiso, queria hablar con Pe ñ a,” Excuse me, I wanted to talk with Pe ña , Carrillo said waiting for their permission to come in. Chucho nodded and took one last glance at his boy before standing up slowly, the years starting to show on his movements.

“Hablamos pronto mijo.” We’ll talk soon, mijo.

Carrillo moved to stand next to the bed, the smallest of smiles appearing on his lips upon seeing his friend awake and talking. “Nos diste un buen susto Pe ñ a” You scared us Pe ñ a.

Javier's voice was barely a whisper. “Los casta ñ o?”

“No van a volver a ser un problema. Aunque cuando estés mejor deber dar una declaración de lo que ocurrió antes las autoridades.” They won’t be a problem anymore. Although when you get better you need to give a statement about what happened.

“Gracias.” Javier extended his hand to the other man, trying his best to keep it from shaking.

Carrillo took his hand and gave it a careful squeeze. “No hay de que hermano, tu hubieras hecho lo mismo por mi.” No worries brother, you would have done the same for me.

Steve poked his head into the room to find Pe ña alone for the first time in the day. He went in and sat next to him, both giving a nod to acknowledge each other. “The doctor says you’re going to be okay.”

“I heard.” Silence settled between them, filled with unsaid things. Eventually, it became too much for Steve to bear.

“Thank you for looking after Connie, I owe you one.” Javier stared at him, a frown forming between his eyebrows, a mix of confusion and sadness.

“She’s my friend,” he stated. “Of course, I would look after her.”

Steve nodded again. There were more things that he wanted to say, but he was not sure about how to approach them. However, when he started talking, the words poured out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Look man, I’m sorry. I should have never sent you to get her, this is all my fault. What happened to you and to her, it’s my fault. I should never have lost my temper on the phone, I made things so much worse.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” Javier admitted, closing his eyes. “If I hadn’t angered the Casta ñ os then most of this would never have happened.”

Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault Javi.”

Neither of them seemed convinced by the other’s words yet both nodded as if trying to accept that they shouldn't be blamed for what happened.

“Think you can get me a smoke?” Javier said after a while, half teasing, half serious.

Steve smiled. “Get some rest Javi.”

After the hospital

“I can work.” Javier tried to argue the decision once again, even if deep down he knew the ambassador had made the right choice.

“You need to take a break and get better Pe ñ a,” the ambassador stated once again, leaving no room left for discussion. “Your job will be waiting for you here if you decide to come back.”

“Alright.”

He went out of the office to meet his father who was waiting outside. “I’m going to Laredo with you for a while,” he informed him, not daring to look him in the eyes. Colombia had been his greatest project, the thing he had dedicated his whole life to for the last couple of years. And now all of that was gone. He had to go back home with nothing to show for the time he was away.

“It’s okay son, I’ll help you pack.”

“Are you sure it’s this way?” Steve asked as he drove along the highway, unable to spot any of the places Connie had described.

“No,” Connie sighed and looked around trying to spot anything familiar. “But we need to try.” She needed to find the family that helped her, she needed to thank them.

With each minute that passed her hope grew dimmer and dimmer, maybe she would never find them. Given the condition she had been in that day, her memories were a little fuzzy on the edges. However, just as she was about to give up, she spotted the bus stop that the boy had taken her to. “It’s there!”

They parked the car on the side of the highway and started climbing towards the little house. The two kids were playing outside and the moment they showed up the girl ran to hide in the house but the older boy recognized Connie and approached her with a smile, although it was easy to tell he was a little wary of the man next to her. “Hello, remember me?” Connie asked with the friendliest smile she could muster.

“Hello.”

“This is my husband Steve.” Steve nodded to the kid who chose to ignore him and focused his attention back on Connie. “Is your grandmother here?”

The kid nodded and motioned for them to follow. The old lady was cooking lunch and received them with a smile. After a long hug and introducing Steve, he took out a bunch of money from his pocket and handed it to the woman.

“No puedo aceptar esto.” The kid translated the words to let them know his grandmother could not accept what was being given to her.

“Por favor.” Connie took the money from Steve and placed it in the other woman’s hands. “You helped me, now let me help you.”

“Okay, pero tienen que quedarse para el almuerzo.” Okay, but you are staying for lunch.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Connie asked Chucho for the thousandth time.

“Of course mi niña, I’ll pick you both up from the airport in a week.”

Connie hugged Chucho and then Javier. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Take care.”

She took Steve’s hand and walked away to find the gate where her flight to Florida would leave from.

Connie kept tossing and turning on the bed. She knew this would be a sleepless night and that there was no use in fighting it. So instead she got up and walked to the room next to hers to check on Olivia. The little girl was sleeping peacefully in her crib, unaware of the demons that haunted her mother. Chucho had gone out of his way to make sure they were both comfortable in the ranch. He had assembled what once had been Javier’s crib, and had also insisted on buying toys and decorating the room for her kid, even though Connie had repeated over and over again that she didn’t know how long they were staying.

“It doesn’t matter mija, you’re family now.” He had said while bouncing Olivia in his arms. “It’s her home, and yours too.”

Connie smiled both at the memory and at her sleeping child and went downstairs to grab a glass of water. Perhaps that would help her settle down. But as she arrived at the kitchen she saw movement on the porch. Her heart skipped a beat at the strange figure until a cigarette lighted the place momentarily to reveal none other than Javier.

She softly knocked on the door, since they were both very jumpy still it was better to announce their presence to each other, especially in the middle of the night. Javier let out a small smile upon seeing her. With a sigh, Connie sat on the stairs, prompting him to do the same next to her.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Javier asked. A poor attempt at filling the silence that seemed all-encompassing.

“Couldn't you?”

In the couple of months they had been living together, they had never discussed what happened back in Colombia, neither wanting to share the burden with the other, less they added to their problems. They both decided to suffer in silence. Until tonight when it became too quiet and life became too heavy to bear alone. Perhaps seeking comfort in each other was not a bad thing.

“Most nights when I close my eyes my mind takes me back,” Connie admitted. “And I can’t go back Javi, I can’t.”

“I don’t sleep because I fear that when I open my eyes we’ll be back there, the two of us,” he confessed in turn.

“Are we ever gonna be back to being the people we were before everything happened?”

“No.” He stayed silent, searching for the right words to tell her. But when talking about such a topic, there are no right or wrong words, just words. “All that happened back there changed us, whether for good or for bad it changed who we were. And we have to learn to live with that change or it will kill us.” He looked to his side to see Connie taking in his words. “But we’ll get there, I promise. We have each other, and we have my dad and Olivia. We’ll be okay because we’re not alone.”

Connie leaned into his shoulder and they stayed like that for a long while until quick footsteps brought their attention back to the house.

“Olivia was asking about you,” Chucho said from a distance, sounding a little out of air as he tried to catch up to the girl. Olivia ran through the entrance towards Javi, who managed to turn just in time to catch her as she jumped onto his arms with a happy squeal. “Tío Javi!”

“Hey, Princesa. What happened?”

“I’m hungry,” she said, looking between him and Connie.

“Some milk with cereal will help with that. If it’s okay with your mom of course,” Javi said as he stood up with the kid still in his arms.

“I think that sounds like a perfect plan, but then back to bed.” Olivia giggled at her mom’s response.

“And a story too!” The little girl demanded.

“Of course and a story,” Connie conceded. “I’m sure your Uncle Javier will know plenty, especially princess ones.”

Javier looked at her with an expression that cried really? But he turned to the kid and tickled her. “I’ll tell you the best story ever.”

Connie stood up too and placed a kiss on Javier’s cheek as she headed inside. “You were right, we are going to be okay.”

#javier peña #connie murphy #steve murphy #horacio carrillo #narcos #bee castle writing

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