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tonguetiedraven · 2 years

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@willyth3ali3n

I did it! I finally finished your fantastic "Yukio has a coal tar familiar" prompt! Thank you for so much fun with the idea, and I hope you enjoy it <3

— — — — —

Yukio didn’t notice it right away. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have really known what to make of his little nuisance. Rin was always the one that attracted stray demons. They clung to his twin and Rin always gave them treats and let them hang around and Yukio had found himself chasing out countless pest from their home before finally corralling them all to one floor of the dorm.

He didn’t notice the pest following him until he found himself coughing on his chemistry homework. He reached for his water to soothe his irritated throat, and he caught the demon’s reflection in his glass.

It was a coal tar. A runt judging by the size. Young—its tail had barely one bend, and its big green eyes were staring at Yukio. Well, as much as the unfocused eyes of coal tars could stare at anything.

It was smiling, showing of its sharp teeth in a dopey sort of way that looked bizarrely happy.

“Go away,” Yukio grumbled between sips of his water.

It didn’t budge.

“Rin is out.”

The coal tar floated a little closer and hovered over his shoulder, slowly twisting through the air as its gaze shifted over Yukio and the silly grin got bigger.

“You’re supposed to stay upstairs. And why are you by yourself anyway?”

The coal tar squeaked and wiggled its little feet. It was upside down now but didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Yukio didn’t think he’d ever seen a coal tar that looked like it had any thoughts going on behind its eyes. This one certainly didn’t as it turned through the air.

“Fine. Just leave me alone and keep your rot to yourself. I’m trying to finish this.” He turned his eyes back to the text and imagined that would be that.

It wasn’t.

— — — — —

Rin was back and Yukio was tired.

“Keep your pets upstairs!” He snapped, rubbing at his watery eyes and hugging his books and papers to his chest while he tried to glare blearily at his twin.

“Pets? You talking about Kuro? ‘Cause he ain’t a pet. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’d bite me if I called him that.”

Yukio stomped up to Rin. He didn’t care if he looked entirely stupid with his glasses shoved up in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks, nose running, and hand rubbing pointlessly at his itchy eyes. Rot sucked.

“I’m not talking about Kuro—“ though that did raise the question of where the cat sidhe was because it was supposed to be his job to keep the pests out of the dorm— “I’m talking about this—where did it go?!”

The coal tar had been hovering over his should a second ago. Just floating through the air, slowly spinning and flicking its short tail in a happy and absent way as it squeaked and got its rot everywhere.

“Where’d what go, bro?” Rin sounded a bit worried, and that was a bit too much.

“The damned coal tar! Your annoying pet! I told you that you could keep demons, but only if you kept them upstairs where they wouldn’t bother me.”

Rin blinked twice and took a step back. Yukio hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to his twin, and okay, he probably did have slightly crazy eyes, but he had taken two hours to finish his chemistry and it never took that long, and now his entire schedule was behind and he still needed to cough.

“I don’t have any coal tars. Why would I have a coal tar? They’re everywhere.”

Yukio could feel the eye he wasn’t rubbing twitch. “I know they’re everywhere, but this one won’t leave me alone.”

“Uh, Yukio? I’m not seeing any coal tar.”

“That’s because it’s gone! Just—ugh,” he dropped his hand and glared as more tears streamed down his cheeks. “Just don’t let coal tars in. They’re a menace.”

Rin pat his shoulder with a condescendingly consoling smile. “Sure, bro. Whatever you say.”

“I will kick you.”

Rin laughed and pushed past him to get to the kitchen. “You and your imaginary coal tar would have to catch me first.”

Yukio glared after him and felt something flick against his ear. He wasn’t even that surprised when he looked over and it was the coal tar.

— — — — —

The coal tar —who Yukio went between calling nuisance and dusty in his head — was apparently shy. They were exceptionally good at hiding —Yukio had no idea where—whenever someone walked around or when Yukio tried to get rid of them, but they always seemed to be around.

Yukio was buying more allergy meds to help with the perpetually itchy eyes, and he was having to stop by the Moriyamas’ shop weekly to keep up with the herbs for his chest.

So really, it wasn’t surprising that of anyone to notice, it was Shiemi.

“Yuki?” She asked quietly, because she always asked quietly and politely even after years of being friends, “is there a reason that she’s following you?”

Yukio paused partway through packing his bag and frowned. “Who?” This wouldn’t be the first time one of his classmates had stalked him. It was depressingly normal. Sometimes he could ask them to go away, but it rarely seemed to work.

Shiemi nodded towards his shoulder. He glanced over to find nothing there but a tiny puff of residual rot. Great.

“You saw it?!”

Shiemi nodded. “The coal tar? Yes. She’s been hanging around you a lot. Izumo thought it was because you had allergies, but Ryuuji said it was probably causing the allergies.”

How many of his friends had seen it?

“I don’t know,” Yukio huffed, tired and still feeling congested. “I’ve told it to go away, but it always disappears when I try to get rid of it.”

Shiemi made a delighted noise. “That’s so cute!”

What?

“She likes you!” Shiemi gushed, hugging her bag to her chest with the most delighted of grins. “I have to tell Izumo,” and with those alarming words, Shiemi was darting from the room, ignoring his call and running to spread news that he apparently had a coal tar crushing on him.

Something tickled his cheek and he swung his hand to get rid of it. A tiny leg brushed against his fingers and the coal tar squeaked contentedly as they spun through the air.

“Go away.”

He got two squeaks for his effort.

— — — — —

Shiemi’s discovery broke whatever reserve his friends had been holding. Everyone had apparently noticed the coal tar — except Rin because his twin was not the most observant of people — and they thought it was cute. Well, the boys had thought it a bit funny, Shiemi thought it cute, and Izumo seemed to think it was the best thing that had happened since Kuro fell asleep on her lap.

The coal tar—which Shiemi insisted was a girl, and Yukio was too worried by what the answer could be to ask how she knew that — was suddenly a bit less shy, and down right preened when ever the girls were around. Izumo got them tiny bows for their head and little ribbons for their tail, and the coal tar clearly delighted in their new accessories. They’d bounce around even more unstably than before—they really had the worst balance he’d ever seen in a coal tar — and they were every bit as cross eyed as ever, but their smile never seemed to go away and they made a happy sort of chirping noise whenever they caught sight of themselves.

And they still hung incessantly around Yukio’s shoulder. He was permanently itchy eyed, and his nose was always pink, and he was tired.

“Do you know why she’s following you?” Ryuuji asked as they finished up their lunch.

Izumo was stitching together another bow, teal this time which didn’t seem like it would go well the green of the coal tars eyes, and Yukio was done with all the nonsense. It was a coal tar, not a pet.

“No.” He could feel a tiny tail flick over his shoulder and shifted away from the touch.

“She’s—“

Yukio suddenly straightened and frowned. He was a teacher. Why had it not occurred to him earlier?

“The road is unmarked for those without faith. The hands of God will fling them from Jacob's ladder.”

Izumo’s head snapped up in utter horror, Ryuuji made a surprised noise, and Yukio turned his head, feeling only a little guilty, and saw no residual puff of rot like coal tars usually left behind after a death verse.

Had it not worked? He’d annunciated everything correctly, and—

A small black ball flew out from under the lapel of his uniform coat.

The demon had hidden from his death verse. The conniving little girl.

“Ha!” Rin cheered. “She’s a smarty!”

Yukio’s friends were all entirely useless. Konekomaru at least passed him a tissue to blow his runny nose.

— — — — —

Yukio had given up. Bunny—he’d had to name her something and dusty had gotten glares from Izumo who could be quite scary when she was angry, and speck had gotten a disappointed look from Shiemi who could probably make even Satan feel guilty, so Bunny it was —was not going away, and she was quick to hide any time he tried to make here disappear.

He apparently had a pet coal tar. It was his life now.

Bunny wasn’t the worst pest. She made him feel like he was eternally suffering from allergies, but she wasn’t actively harmful in any other way. So Bunny hung by his shoulder, and floated happily through her day with ribbons and bows and happy eyes that had no thoughts behind them.

The ceasefire they’d fallen into was probably why he noticed that Bunny would be able to fly properly if something was right in front of her, and could not fly towards something decently at all if it was far away. She’d float aimlessly until it got closer, and then she’d zero in.

It took him trading out glasses to make the connection. He brought a pair out of his drawer, set them on his desk to trade out his old pair because they had been scratched in a bariyon tussle gone wrong, and was rubbing at his still watering eyes before he put the new pair on. Bunny took the moment to chirp happily and flew down to peer through his lenses. She squeaked at whatever she saw, and it was a pitch he hadn’t heard before. Yukio’s eyes flew open in alarm to see if something had hurt her.

She squeaked again and flew to the other lens only to chirp in utter delight. Her noise went sad when she hovered up over the glasses.

Yukio carefully picked his glasses up and slipped them on his nose. Bunny followed, floating right over his nose and smiling. She was no longer cross eyed from this distance.

No way. It couldn’t be.

— — —

It was.

It took him a bit of finagling to make them, but once he’d gotten the tiny lenses and a bit of wire, he made a passable set of glasses fit for a coal tar. Bunny’s flying immediately became more accurate, and while her smile was still dopey, she was no longer nearly as cross eyed.

Yukio had a coal tar familiar that needed glasses. She liked bows and sparkly things, adored having her nubby feet decorated with nail polish, liked her glasses to match Yukio’s, and made a little nest in his glasses drawer to hide all her treasures. She hid in his collar during fights, and she made him sneeze constantly, but still…

Yukio had a coal tar familiar he named Bunny, and to his utter confusion, he was happy she was around.

#yukio okumura #okumura yukio #ao no exorcist #my tumblr fics #blue exorcist #aoex #ane #aoe #coal tars #bunny feels bad for making yukio sneeze #but she can't help it #shiemi gets yukio a tea that helps a lot #as a familiar she's not particularly helpful #but he makes sure the collars on his uniform coat are a bit bigger than required so she has a spot to hide #and he makes her glasses #and wonders how many coal tars have bad eye sight in general

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starry-blue-echoes · 2 years

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3+7

-👾

You got Standtaro and Friends on the Other Side!!!

Get ready for some ooky spooky, and just in time for October :3

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

Bokyaku let out a sigh of relief as the rapid footsteps faded.

They’d been chased around for hours by those stupid teenagers and that mangaka, but finally they’d lost them. Jeez, all they’d wanted was a little fun. What was the harm in taking a couple memories? Seriously, the gray-haired kid freaked out way too much, it was just a couple days of school. Not like they took his memory of how he met his friends or something.

……but now that they were thinking about it….. that would be pretty good revenge to get back at them-

Glass shattered.

Their gaze snapped up.

And there was a man standing at the end of the alley.

The guy was huge, and despite the distance they could tell he would easily tower over them. He had a baggy white coat and pants over a black shit which just barely failed to conceal the muscle underneath. A white cap with black anchors and a gold hand was tilted down and obscured most of his face, and he had short black hair neatly trimmed so as not to stick out much. He could probably snap them like a twig without even trying

Bokyaku didn’t hear him arrive, nor did they even think it was possible for someone to enter from the direction he’d appeared from. And even if he could have, he was remarkably quiet for someone of his stature and size. They’d ducked into an alley on the quieter side of town on purpose. Not many people hung out over here, so the chances of someone just happening to be here…..

Well, they’d ran into a good deal of Stand Users that way.

With a slight mental push, Hotel California manifested beside them. The man didn’t react to the third presence at all thankfully, so he was probably just a regular guy skulking around the back alleys.

There was still something…. off about the man though. His colors were a bit too bright even though they were in shadow, the ends of his clothes swayed ever so slightly in a non-existent breeze, the shadows around him seemed both too harsh but also not enough. He looked almost….. ethereal in some strange sense of the word.

Although……

This guy could just be their ticket out of here. Those kids, while Stand Users, seemed to have some sense of moral code and wanted to keep regular people out of their fights. They did seem to try corralling them away from people after all.

Bokuyau on the other hand, had no such reservations in this case. This could help keep those stupid kids away. Plus, it never hurt to have some good old fashioned muscle.

Best case scenario, they just got their ticket out of this mess and possibly even have a little fun afterward, if the big guy swung that way. He was definitely their type.

And worst case…. eh, they’ll just use Hotel to wipe every memory from his pretty little head and still have a clean getaway.

They plastered a smile on their face.

“Name’s Bokyaku, handsome. What’s yours?” they began, letting a mask of confidence slip into place and carefully walking over while keeping Hotel at their back.

The man stayed silent. He didn;t even move a muscle.

“Aww, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to get familiar~” They pouted, carefully leaning forward to latch onto his arm-

Suddenly there was another crash of glass.

And the feeling of someone grabbing their shoulder.

The touch was cold like ice and somehow felt as though it was directly on their skin. It was nothing more than a prickling feeling, a chill, a phantom feeling, whatever you wanted to call it but something was there.

This time Bokyaku jumped, whipping around in an instant. Hotel raised it’s fists, ready for a fight-

But nothing was there.

No person, no Stand, nothing but the sparse alley to greet them.

Hesitantly they turned back around…..

But the man vanished.

Bokyaku sucked in a quick breath, stumbling back.

Where did he go? He didn’t react to Hotel California so he didn’t seem like a Stand User, but what if that wasn’t true? Was this a trap meant to ensnare them, try to get them close with their guard down?

They began backpedaling, eyes combing over every inch of the alley desperately searching for where the man had gone.

They bumped into something.

In an instant, they lashed out with Hotel, throwing themselves away from whatever it was they hit. It was a physically weak Stand sure, but its ability was powerful and now it could be their only chance out of here.

They felt the phantom feeling of their Stand’s fists hitting something hard and solid.

But that was impossible, they were walking in a straight line, it shouldn’t have been possible for them to hit a wall-

Terror slowly started to build up in their stomach.

They needed to turn around.

They needed to see what they bumped into.

They didn’t bump into the wall.

But Hotel’s ability didn’t react like when it hit a person.

They needed to turn around.

The same fake feeling of hands on their skin returned, gently cupping the side of their cheeks like that of a lover.

They felt their head begin to turn.

They couldn’t see what was grabbing their face.

They felt frozen.

They felt in danger.

And suddenly they met blue eyes.

They were brighter and clearer than anything they’d ever seen, piercing into their very soul. They were cold and calculating and picking them apart from the inside out without any hint of emotion or remorse and Bokyaku was drowning they couldn’t breath couldn’t surface for air-

They didn’t even have time to register the purple fist that collided with their skull before they were met with the quiet black of unconsciousness.

#did I make a whole character so I could make a stand based off my second favorite Old Rock SongTM?#yes #yes I did #also I know it's been like. a week since I got the asks to write things #and I am still doing them its just taking a bit #standtaro #friends on the other side #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #diu #jjba part 4 #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #sb writes #sb answers #👾 anon #also you bet Dio is having the time of his fucking LIFE getting to be all ooky spooky

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staysaneathome · 2 years

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Let’s Meet at the Gathering of the Witches (3)

Georgie visits about a week after the fiasco at the Gathering.

Jon has been trying to take it easy to get rid of the migraine that the Gathering of the Witches brought on, but it seems like events are conspiring against him in that regard.

Several villagers have decided that they’ve got the courage to march up to his door to demand some potion or tincture that they absolutely must have, damn the consequences.

Unfortunately, Jon can only hex three of that number for attempting to demand love potions (maybe he should just put up a sign and have done with it), so he still has five salves and potions for colicky babes and ailing elders that need his attentions.

The begonias are now totally lost to the attentions of the Damn Cow, which was attempting to start in on the roses the moment they got back, leading to Robbie having to chase it back to it’s field again.

Robbie themself has been trying to wear the mask Jon gave them constantly.

Even when he tells them it might make the eyes come back, his warnings only merit a furrowed brow plus occasional patting of their face while they have it on.

It’s gotten to the point where he’s had to make them another, less magical one in hopes of actually getting them to take the bloody thing off.

Jon’s eyes have spied several Strangers lingering at the edges of his territory. It’s only a matter of time before they make a move.

Georgie really can’t come to visit fast enough for Jon’s tastes.

“You look like hell, Jon.” Georgie says as he guides her into the house.

“Can you really blame me though?” He grumbles as he takes the kettle off the hob, pouring the steaming liquid into the teapot and setting it on the table to steep.

Georgie laughs as he sets out cups for three, milk and sugar. “No, I suppose not.”

Jon goes and collects Robbie from where they’ve been weeding outside. By the time he’s ensured they’re all washed up and corralled them to the table, the tea is ready to be served.

“Hullo.” Georgie says after he’s poured them all a cup. “You must be Robbie. Jon’s told me a lot about you.”

Robbie fidgets as they sign, “It’s nice to meet you,” back.

They keep shifting from side to side, pressing against Jon as much as their separate chairs will allow, as though his meager frame will somehow offer them protection or comfort.

“The thing is, Georgie.” He starts, words catching in his throat. “Robbie’s. Robbie’s a good familiar, but. Our magic just. Isn’t compatible. At all. Even Elias told me that it was a bad idea—“

“Did he?” Georgie asks, neutrally.

Jon grimaces. “He’d said he wanted to see what would happen next. Which is pretty much Elias-speak for ‘let’s wait and see how badly this will blow up in your face this time so I can swoop in and make everything worse’.”

Georgie nods, as though she actually knows what “Elias-speak” means, even though she’s not one of the three people who was ever privy to it.

One of those three hates him now, one of them is Not, and one left him alone anyway.

“Are you sure about this, Jon?” At his nod Georgie sighs and pats his hand like she did when he came to her after Martin left.

She turns her patient smile on Robbie. “Jon tells me you’re good at herb-gathering. Think you’d fancy helping me and my fellow Oliver out with that?”

Robbie glances between the two of them, hands still on the table. Jon tries to smile reassuringly.

“Thank you, Grand Witch Georgie.” Robbie signs. “But no thank you. I’m happy here. I’m a familiar of the Eye. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Jon and Georgie have to take a moment to goggle at their audacity.

“You can go away now.” Robbie adds unhelpfully.

Jon stares at them in mute horror.

Georgie actually makes a small snort in surprise.

“Wh—no, no, Georgie, Robbie doesn’t know what they’re saying—!”

“Yes I do.” They sign, affronted. “I want her to go away.”

“No you don’t stop it.” Jon hisses back.

Georgie taps her nails against her cup, the idle clink-clink-clink of dry bones shifting in a coffin. “Well, if I’m not wanted…”

Jon scrubs a hand over his face. He didn’t want to have to resort to this, but…

“Robbie.” He says, heart heavy. “Take your mask off, please.”

They stare at him, aghast.

He stares back at them. “Please.”

Their hands are much more hesitant than under Elias’ compulsion as they reach up to take the mask off. But they do so all the same.

Georgie draws in a sharp breath at the sight of them. “Jon—!”

“I know.” He replies wearily. “I. Listen, Georgie, there isn’t much time. Nikola…she’s far too willing to take gambles even if she not sure whether they’ll pay off. They can’t stay here.”

Georgie tilts her head, eyes as still as tombstones.

Finally she sighs. “You will owe me so much for this.”

“Anything.” Jon replies, firm.

“As tempted as I am to cash that in now and make you admit I was right in every argument we’ve ever had…” Georgie teases, giggling at the way his nose wrinkles at the prospect. “I think I’ll have to get back to you on that one. For now, I can assure you that so long as they are under my protection, they will come to no harm.”

Jon feels himself deflate in relief, smiling back at her.

Then he’s seized around the middle with enough force to drive the breath from him.

Robbie’s eyes are wide and pleading as they stare up at him, head shaking. They’re mouthing one word, over and over.

“N-now, Robbie—“ They bury their head in his side, still shaking it, shoulders hitching. “Robbie, listen, please. It’s not. Not safe for you here anymore. It. It’s not that I want this, but I can’t look after you here. Not anymore. It’s complicated, you understand?”

It feels like his front’s growing wet.

He shoots a despairing look at Georgie as he babbles on. “It’ll be better with Georgie, you’ll be. You’ll be happier. Better off than being stuck here with me. And you can? You can write me. I promise I’ll answer any letter you send, I, I swear. But you’ve got to go first. Go with Georgie. It’s best this way.”

It takes several hours for them to adequately cajole Robbie into letting go of him, collecting the meager amount of things they’ve amassed in Jon’s cottage and packing them into Georgie’s skeletal carriage.

All the time, Robbie keeps staring up at him with red-rimmed eyes, mouthing and signing the word “No,” at every opportunity.

Even before Georgie can finally corral them into leaving, they insist on clinging onto him one last time, sniffles almost disconcertingly loud in his ear as they clutch him tight.

Jon doesn’t know if they look back or try to get back into the cottage once the front door is shut after them.

He makes a point of not allowing any of his eyes to watch as Robbie is bustled down the garden, into Georgie’s carriage, and away.

It’s safer for them, this way.

No matter how much his chest aches, it’s better like this.

It has to be.

The Strangers make their move a few days after that.

Jon finds it almost cathartic to unleash all the agitation and frustration and similarly unhelpful feelings that he refuses to name upon them.

He’d be impressed with how quickly he decimates them, if he wasn’t so tired of all of this.

One particularly determined one makes it to his front garden before his eyes force it to obey the truth of its components, reducing it back to a lifeless mannequin, unrecognizable as anything that could ever command magic, let alone move.

Jon, once he’s de-limbed it, straps a pole to the unfortunate and dresses it in a few of Elias’ scraps he’s dug out of dusty, almost-forgotten corners.

The front garden could use a scarecrow to keep Farmer Peters’ Cow out, after all.

Things are…quiet.

Jon gets the salves and potions done a little slower than his usual rate.

He blames his eyes, which keep filtering a uselessly precise stream of information into his head, going over every single nook and cranny within a fifty foot radius as if searching through the minutiae will reveal something that wasn’t there before.

They must just be restless. Buzzing with the instinct to Find and Reveal after all the excitement with the Strangers. That’s all.

He also keeps running out of ingredients at the most inconvenient times, forcing him to tramp around late at night or early in the morning to find replacement or substitute herbs.

His larder is also growing barer, but that’s less of an issue.

He’s a sporadic eater at the best of times, so this is much slower than the depletion of his more important ingredients.

…He hasn’t heard anything from his ultimately temporary houseguest. Not in the several weeks since their departure.

Hasn’t received a single letter. Not one.

It’s no matter.

He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t.

His eyes inform him that Martin is rapping smartly on his door.

The Fog Witch frowns when he finally goes to open it, eyes raking up and down Jon’s form.

“When was the last time you slept?”

Jon doesn’t have time to answer that because Martin’s already shouldering his way past him into the cottage.

“And— oh for Pete’s sakes, have you even washed these plates? When did you last eat off of this? Jonathan Sims, you better have eaten within the past week, or so help me—“

“I have!” Jon protests with only a modicum of guilt. Depending on how you slice up the days, Sunday night counts as “within the past week,” surely.

The Look Martin gives him as he begins scrubbing at the dishes reminds Jon that he too used to be an apprentice of the Eye.

Somehow Jon finds himself sat down at his table with a steaming cup of tea in his hands while Martin plates up a generous serving of stew alongside mashed potatoes.

He keeps making forbidding exclamations every time Jon even thinks about coming up with an excuse to get back to his work.

The company is…not unpleasant. About as far from it as it can be, if Jon’s being honest with himself.

But as he turns in while Martin lets himself out, remaining in bed under the threat of the Fog Witch outright strapping him to it, he can’t help but reflect on the temporary nature of it all.

Everything will be quiet again, tomorrow.

But Martin keeps coming back.

Not every day, admittedly. Excessive social contact is anathema for Fog witches, and while Martin is far more accustomed to it than the Lukases ever could be, he does still need a day or so to “recharge”, as he likes to put it.

But still, more often than not, Jon’s woken up by a smart rapping on his cottage door, or interrupted mid-experiment by his eyes excitedly informing him that Martin’s outside the front gate, arms laden with something or other.

It’s…confusing. Not unwelcome, not at all, but. Unusual. Illogical. Unknown.

And that is beginning to vex Jon, just a little bit.

When he finally screws up his courage to actually broach the topic, Martin is…evasive.

“Just felt like popping by, you know?” He says airily. “Now, d’you want normal tea, or fancy one of the herbals as a treat?”

“No you’re not.” Jon replies, feeling oddly accusatory. “You ‘popping by’ means you show up once in a blue moon for a chat and then vanish for weeks on end before I hear from you again. Not, not whatever this is.”

He makes an expansive flap of this arms that’s meant to encompass the fact that Martin’s just finished layering cucumber and goat’s cheese and rocket on crusty bread for lunch later, that he’s brought his own soap to set on the windowsill because he claims Jon’s “doesn’t get bubbly enough”, that there are two mugs sitting on the sideboard and Jon’s begun to think of one of them as Martin’s mug even though he owns both of them.

Martin doesn’t reply right away. “Maybe. Maybe I felt like a bit of a change in routine.”

The pause is what gives him away.

It all clicks in Jon’s head. “Oh—you’re not—I don’t need to be, be mollycoddled.”

Martin looks up at him, frowning. “Mollycoddled? Is, is that an actual word?”

“It is.” Jon seethes, “And just because Robbie’s in the End, you don’t need to do it to me. I’m fine, Martin, I’m not made of glass. Better than fine, actually, without having to worry about them getting underfoot.”

Martin actually scoffs at that, folding his arms across his chest. “Really? Are you really going with this? Jon, when I turned up you looked like, like you were trying to join the End yourself! You weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you’d made some, some weird trophy in the front garden out of what I can only assume is Nikola’s corpse—”

“Is that who that was?” Jon blinks. Funny. Guess he’d been so caught up in Knowing her past the point of recognition it hadn’t registered—

“The point is,” Martin cuts in. His voice softens. “The point is I think they were happy here Jon, and they made you happy too. And I’m not saying you didn’t do the right thing, putting their safety first, but. It’s alright, to. To let yourself miss them, you know.”

Jon has a powerful urge to say something spiteful and unkind, like missing Robbie won’t bring them back, just like how it hadn’t brought back Sasha, or Tim, or even Martin himself, so what’s the point of it all? What’s the point of Martin constantly coming around, trying to cheer Jon up or keep him company outside of some misguided sense of duty or pity when he’s the one who left Jon alone in the first place?!

But Martin’s frowning softly at him, Jon’s Eyes giving him optimal views of all facets of that expression with…something behind his own eyes Jon is hesitant to put a name to. Something that makes him bite back all the vitriol and bile for once.

Instead, Jon scrubs a hand over his face with a grunt. “Ugh, just—! Martin, what do you want?”

He notices the compulsion too late to stop it.

“I want you to be happy.” Martin’s cheeks are steadily flushing, even as his eyebrows draw together and his eyes glitter with what’s surely panic and outrage. “I want you to get a good night’s sleep, eat nice things regularly, do the things you love without worrying about, about all this. I want you to be able to spend time with the people who care about you, who want you to be safe and healthy and happy like I do. I want you to realize that I ca—!”

There is a sudden fog localized entirely to his kitchen.

It’s thick enough that Jon’s eyes can barely make out the details of his table or chairs, let alone anything smaller.

He is suddenly very glad his windows aren’t open.

“Martin!” He shouts, feeling like he’s being uncomfortably muffled even in this small room. “Martin, come out!”

“Shan’t.” Comes a faint, sulky-sounding voice near his ear. “Not if you’re going to Compel me again.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jon complains. “I just—look, would you please stop hiding?”

“Why?” Martin’s voice sounds small, distant.

“Because I’m going to feel very silly telling a room full of Fog something I want to say to your face!” Jon shouts.

No response.

“Fine.” Jon huffs under his breath. “Martin, I. I know you care about me. I’d have to be even more of a blind fool than I already am not to see that. And. And I. I care, about. About you. A great, a great deal.”

More silence.

Come on man, he mentally gripes at himself, stop dithering. You can perfectly recite cantrips in six hundred and seventeen known languages, and this is your stumbling block? Grow a spine and spit it out.

“In. In fact, I,” Oh Good Lord why is this so hard. “I suspect that I may care about you, far. Far more than mere friendship would deem appropriate. Far more than you care for me, at any rate.”

The fog thins, coalescing into the shape of the man Jon’s far too fond of to be good for him.

“That’s not true.” His voice still sounds faint and deadpan. “You can’t—Jon if you’re just saying that…”

“I’m not!” He insists. “How on earth could I just say something like, like this?!”

The Fog Witch still looks disbelieving, so Jon steels himself to reach out and take one of his hands.

“Martin, I.” He exhales slowly. “I want you to be happy, too. Have all the, the nice things that someone like you rightfully deserves. Be surrounded by people who care about you and make you happy too. But. I know it’s selfish, but. I’d like it if one of the people who made you happiest. Could. Could be me?”

His Eyes give him a perfect View as Martin is slowly saturated with color, his hand growing heavier and warmer again. Then as his cheeks darken even further, staring down at Jon’s hand holding his with a walleyed expression.

The Fog billowing around him bears a greater resemblance to steam, at the moment.

“Jon.” His voice is very much in squeak-territory. It’s terribly endearing. “I—you? Can, can I—?”

“Yes.” Jon rasps as he leans in, all his eyes sliding shut.

So Jon has a boyfriend now.

It was a little nerve-wracking when Martin had to leave for two days to “recharge” after their little dalliance.

But on the third day, when he greeted Jon opening the door with a bashful kiss to his crown…

It’s almost comical how quickly all of his worries and fears drifted away in that instant.

Things are. Things are better, with Martin around. They were before, when he was just coming to cheer Jon up, but that feels incomparable compared to now.

The difference between peering at something through murky glass and throwing the window open for a breath of fresh air and crystal clear view.

Why hadn’t he confessed before now? It boggles his mind that he could have ever willingly deprived himself of this, of Martin for any length of time.

It makes the fact that something still feels like it’s missing even when he’s at his most content that much more infuriating.

It’s maddening. He should be perfectly happy in his new relationship, and he is. It’s amazing how much a cup of tea delivered to him with a kiss and a murmured reminder not to work to hard, or winding his fingers through Martin’s hair and hearing him groan appreciatively can make him feel like all the burdens of his life have fallen away.

But still.

Martin is the one who pushes him to contact Georgie first, the clever, brilliant man, to ask how Robbie’s getting on and if he can speak with them.

It takes a few weeks of cajoling and convincing, but eventually, Jon does it. He sits down in front of his crystal ball, only dithers a few minutes past the time he promised he’d do it, and eventually calls.

Jon thinks that he must’ve caught Georgie at a bad time.

Through the round surface of the crystal ball she seems…strangely frazzled.

And very rarely in all their years of knowing each other has Jon ever seen Georgie frazzled.

She smiles and replies to his questions brightly enough. No, Georgie’s fine, just got something a bit pressing on her plate, End matters. Yes, there were a few issues with Robbie settling in at the start but there aren’t anymore. No, unfortunately they can’t come to the ball themselves, they’re currently out. Yes, she will pass on Jon’s hopes that they’re doing alright and that he’d like to speak to them when she sees them next.

When her image fades away, Jon’s left feeling. Weird.

Almost like he’s decided to lick a tea towel and the fibers have left a prickling sensation on his tongue. But in his gut.

Martin frowns gently when Jon tells him about it later, pulling him in for a warm hug. “M sorry love. At least they’re well-settled, and you can catch them next time you call, right?”

But no matter when Jon tries to call, in the morning, the afternoon, the evening, late at night, and on one memorable occasion that had Georgie resoundingly swearing at him before disconnecting, at 3:00 AM, Robbie’s never there.

“Out” as Georgie so neatly puts it.

Jon’s not stupid. He’s burned enough bridges in his time to recognize when people have given up on trying to cross the obstacles he’s put in their path.

He’d never considered that Robbie could be one of them.

He Knows and knows that they didn’t want to leave. That they were devastated when he made them do so anyway, even if it was to keep them safe.

He supposes it’s only natural for them to be angry with him, to not want to see him after all that.

Still.

If he had the opportunity to see them again, to explain himself, to apologize—

He’d like to do that, he thinks.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma au #witch au #witches and familiars #jonathan sims #jon sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #georgie barker #fear avatar oc #robbie #nikola orsinov #but she’s unperson’d VERY quickly #jon has empty-nester syndrome #but at least he has Martin to help him through it!

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tripthelightfandomtastic · 2 years

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Black Out - D.R.W

Author’s Note: I'm finally here to feed my Danny girls. You all have been waiting so patiently for me to write my first ever Danny smut story, he's just so intimidating to write and I didn't want to get this wrong. This is also the longest story I've written thus far so I hope I've delivered for you.

Synopsis: Danny Wagner has always been a pain in the ass, but what happens when the two of you find yourselves together after a night out?

Word Count: 10k (now that's more like it)

Pairing: Douchebag!Danny x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Foul language, alcohol, oral, spanking, choking, light degradation, dom!sub. (Wrap it before you tap your worst enemy)

Thank you all for your patience, I've been so busy lately its been hard to find the time to write but I'm proud of what I've put out here for y'all. I'll be getting back to requests soon in the order in which I got them, I just wanted to do something on my own to get my creative juices flowing again. Anyway, please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list and what y'all think! Thank you, love you! ❤️

Black Out- D.R.W

You should have left hours ago, it was snowing like crazy out and you knew you probably shouldn’t be this fucked up either but, damn, whiskey runs way too smooth and work has been getting on your nerves. The party ended about twenty minutes ago, everyone now scrambling to figure out a safe way home. Classic Michigan. No ubers would risk this trip out, the snow was piling up fast and the snowplows wouldn’t make it this late. Time is of the essence and you really don’t want to stay at whoever's house this was, and if that means grabbing a ride with Danny then so be it. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t halfway beg Josh to take you home in his stupid jeep but he was already getting a ride himself because he had had too much to drink tonight. He only offered you a warm giggle and a tight hug, promising you he would text you as soon as he got home safe. Josh was a sweet mess when he was drunk, you wished you were able to be in whoever’s car was taking him home. Josh did do you one last favor before leaving, and that was flagging Danny down and asking him to take you home, remembering you two didn’t live far from each other. The visible look of annoyance on his face made you smile, a tantalizing opportunity to torture Danny, one of your many favorite past times.

“Why do I need to take her home?” Your head spins to watch Danny complain to Sam who is wrangling a pack of wild drunks of his own, as Josh practically waltzes out the front door with a couple of other drunk dudes and their very nervous designated driver. Sam is only half listening to his friend, he looks like he’s trying to corral three drunk girls together, trying desperately to keep them from running off back to the dying embers of the house party. “Her house is way closer to yours than everyone else I’m driving.” “Who did she come here with?” “One of the girls I’m taking in my already full car. Amber, no, no we are not taking the leftover jello shots in my car! Ugh, that doesn’t mean you should eat them now?!” Sam runs to chase after your friend Amber, pulling the other two drunk girls by the wrist like a single mother dealing with unruly children in a grocery store, you giggle to yourself as you pull on your coat and search for your purse, spinning in a circle only to find it’s already strapped to you.

“I’m sick of playing designated driver.” Danny whines as Jake leads an arguing drunk couple to the doorway, “It's getting bad out there dude, I’m sure it won’t take long, we gotta go while we can.” Jake opens the door, ushering the yelling couple out the door ahead of him, you saunter over to Danny, standing tall with his arms crossed. “Fine, but I’m not happy about having to drive her.” “Oh shut up, I’m a delight to be around.” You chime in, shoulder checking him on your way out the door. “Yeah a real fucking treasure.” Danny scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pulls his coat tighter to him before walking out to follow you.

Daniel Wagner is probably not your biggest fan, and you were not exactly his either. You can’t say when was the moment that solidified your status as enemies but for as long as you’ve known the Kiszka’s, you’ve known Danny. You both love the boys too much to give up hanging out as a group, even if that meant knowing the other would be wherever they were. You two get along civilly for the most part but pushing Danny’s buttons and vice versa, was a long standing game you two have been playing for years. You stumble through the snow along the grassy yard that was covered in the abandoned cars that belong to all of the party's drunk patrons who were finding other means of safe transportation. You fall into the thick powdery snow, landing in the cushion of the freshly fallen flurry with a drunken chuckle. “Come on.” Danny says flatly as he spins his keys on his fingers with an air of irritation. You roll over to your back and start making a snow angel, “It's freezing! Let’s go!” He shouts, his breath visible and floating into the night sky. “But if I get up I’ll ruin my snow angel!” You whine, Danny throws his head back with a groan, walking over to you as you sit up, he squats down and picks you up and holds you to his chest, his movement swift, unphasing his stride as he carries you away effortlessly, you never knew Danny was so strong? He faces the shape you had made of you in the snow, “Looks more like a snow demon to me.'' Danny quips, turning back to his intended path towards his car. “I thought it looked very nice.” You say simply, trying to ignore how muscular Danny’s arms feel around you, carrying you like a groom would carry his bride through the terrain of the snowy night. Finally you both reach the car, he reluctantly sets you back down on your feet just to fish out his keys and open your door, “Oh, Daniel, such a gentleman.” You tease as you slip inside the passenger seat, earning only a scoff and eye roll from your valet for the evening.

Danny pops inside and turns the key, pressing every button that will warm up the car from this wintery hellscape. You wrap your arms across your chest as you try to preserve any heat you may have left in your body from escaping through your sweater and coat. Danny’s bluetooth is paired to the radio, an old Neil Diamond song playing through the speakers. “I don’t think I’ve heard this one.” You observe more to yourself than Danny, he gives you a quick glance, just peeling his eyes from the ice filled streets to give you a surprised “Hm.” You listen along, liking how oddly gospel-sounding it is, “It’s uh Holly Holy, I think it’s about the way the woman he loves makes him feel like she is akin to a spiritual awakening. How she makes him feel full with her love, like he could do anything.” Danny explains softly, trying his best not to sound corny. You just smile sweetly at the idea, the song is sweet and you can hear the meaning Danny mentioned plain as day in its melody, “I mean, I don’t know, it could be about LSD or something, that’s just what I think it sounds like to me, I don’t know.” Danny stammers out, “No I like it, I get that too. I think it's sweet.” You reassure, nodding along lazily to the beat, letting the song flow through you. Danny only lets a grin tug at the corner of his mouth as you continue your journey home.

It was no exaggeration, the snow was falling fast and in droves, the white from the flurry made it hard to see when driving so you were practically praying to the girl Neil Diamond was singing about if she could get you through this storm. Only a few more minutes of fearful driving until you were finally pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot. “Finally.” You sigh to yourself, feeling the edge of sobriety slowly creeping in, as you and your friends would describe it, you were about a seven, maybe a six and a half on a scale of one to ten, ten being the drunkest you could possibly think of being. Danny turns off the car and you snap your head to look at him, “You don’t have to walk me up ya know?” You offer, knowing how he didn’t want to be here in the first place, very aware that he probably doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to. “No way, its fucking freezing out and I’ve seen enough Dateline episodes to know not to abandon a drunk friend alone in the middle of the night.” He explains, rebuttoning his coat. “Friend, huh?” You press, raising an eyebrow at his choice of phrasing. “If I said 'mortal enemy’ I don’t think I’d end up on the show.” He smirks, you just roll your eyes and chuckle as you open the door, the cold wind slamming into you, your clothes might as well be made of tissue paper the way it whips through you.

You pull your coat closer to yourself, starting your well traveled path up to your apartment, Danny close to your side, his hair flying around his face. You nearly slip and fall on an iced over puddle on the sidewalk, sending you backwards into Danny, his firm chest and arms steadying you. “You that drunk?” Danny laughs out, “No, asshole, it's slippery!” You shout, your voice a little too dramatic from the embarrassment of Danny seeing you nearly eat shit on the concrete. “Come on, diva.” His voice is playful as he abruptly picks you up, tossing you easily over his shoulder, “Hey!” “I don’t think I trust you to make it up these stairs alive on your own, princess.” Danny mocks, his arms locked firmly around your waist and hips, keeping you still as his long flowing curls tickle your cheeks. “You’re a full service man aren’t you Dan? You drive drunks home, walk girls to their door, and carry them over your giant shoulders? You really are a gentleman!” You tease, calling out loudly. His large hand meets your ass with a spank, you yelp out in shock, “Stop shouting, you’ll wake the whole complex.” He quips back. You can’t help but blush, the position you’re in alone has your tipsy mind swimming, that sting of his slap sinfully makes you weak. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, like come on, this is Danny? Douchebag Dan? Maybe you were a bit higher on your drunk scale than you thought.

You finally make it up to your apartment door as Danny plops you down to your feet, you fumble the keys in the lock, finally swinging open to your warm and inviting abode. “Mind if I use your restroom before I head out?” Danny asks as you toss your keys on your entry table, “Sure.” You say, your hands working off your coat, toeing your boots off. You make your way into the kitchen and grab yourself a glass of water, chugging down the cold beverage like your life depended on it, which it did if you didn’t want to wake up tomorrow with a headache from all the sugary mixers you had tonight. Danny emerges from the bathroom making his way back towards you, he comes over and grabs the glass out of your hand, taking it and drinking the ice water. “Oh please, help yourself.” You sarcastically spout, crossing your arms with a furrowed brow as you glare up at him. He finishes off the glass and sets it on the counter beside him, “Well, I guess I should be off.” “You’re insufferable.” “I got you home didn’t I?” He shrugs smugly, you only let out a scoff, “Right. Yeah, thank you. I uh, I really appreciate it.” You say softly, looking up to his eyes, dark and curious. “Was that a genuine ‘thank you’?” Danny says with his brows lifted in utter surprise, “Yes, dickhead, it was.” You roll your eyes, leaning against your fridge. Danny makes his way closer to you, “Oh, don’t ruin it, I’m gonna revel in this moment.” He teases, his arm extends to the fridge door, propping himself against it, trapping you from leaving as he leans in, his head dipping next to your ear, “Say it again.” He whispers in your ear, his voice a hair deeper and raspier as he speaks, a wave of goosebumps travel down your neck, you only gaze up at him into his eyes, ‘fuck he’s tall’ you think to yourself, your lips parting as you look over his face. “Thank you.” Your own voice barely above a whisper as he smiles that oh so familiar shit-eating grin you’re so used to seeing. “That wasn’t so hard now was it, princess?” Danny says, his finger lifting your chin up to keep your eyes trained on him. The air feels thick, a tension building around you, the feeling of his hand on your chin makes your stomach flip with sweet excitement.

Your eyes travel down to look at his lips, so soft looking, they’ve never seemed so soft before. Suddenly, everything goes black. The world goes silent. The power is out in the building. The slow ever present hum of electricity in the background whirs away until it's totally quiet. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark, looking at Danny’s silhouette less than a foot away from you, he must have moved away to take in the situation. “Shit.” You whisper, “Looks like I’m not going anywhere for a while.” Danny says, standing up and pulling his phone from his back pocket, turning on his flashlight, “Why?” “Because if the power is out here, it's probably out at my place too. Might as well not be bored alone.” He theorizes, “Fair enough. I have a couple of candles around here somewhere.” You say heading back into the kitchen, opening up your pantry to find an unopened box of tea candles, “Got some of these after my power went out in a storm a year ago, it sucked having zero light for hours.” You explain, pulling out a box of matches. "How very doomsday prepper of you." Danny jokes as you split the candles up, walking around the apartment and lighting candles wherever you would need the most light, the living room, the bathroom and your bedroom. The atmosphere was alight with a warm glow, inviting and safe away from the snow storm just outside the window.

The two of you end up sat on the floor of your living room, facing each other awkwardly in the warmth of the candle light. “It feels like we’re about to do some sacrifice or something with all these candles.” Danny jokes, you chuckle as you take in the view around you, “It kind of does. Maybe I’ll see what I can get in return for your soul.”

“Like what?”

“Whatever it would be worth I guess, which would probably earn me a single McChicken from the dollar menu.”

“Ouch, you think it’d be that bad?”

“I like their McChickens.” You shrug as Danny shakes his head with a smile. You bring your knees up to your chin, your arms holding you close to yourself. “I’m bored.” You complain, your feet rocking back and forth from your place on the carpet. “You’re not tired?” Danny asks with genuine surprise, “No, not really.” You answer, “What do you wanna do?” He asks, as he leans back to rest against the couch from his place on the floor. The room is silent as you ponder the question, the warm candle light flickers, the shadows long and foreign looking on their places against the walls. You let out a giggle and shake your head at the thought. “What?” “Nothing. It’s stupid.” You shake your head again with a smile, “I’m sure it is, what is it?” Danny pries. You just roll your eyes, “Wanna play, would you rather?” You smile, tilting your head to the side, Danny laughs, “That is stupid. Fuck it, why not.” He smiles, he shifts from his cross-legged position to stretching out a leg, his arm resting on one knee he’s hiked up. He tilts his head up at you confidently, waiting for you to go first. “Okay, um, would you rather, only ever eat breakfast for dinner forever or eat dinner for breakfast forever?” You ask, “That is the most lame would you rather question ever.” “Just answer it, asshole.” You jab, Danny just lets his head fall back as he stares up at the ceiling and thinks for a moment, “I guess breakfast for dinner?” “Why?” “I gotta have a reason?” “Yeah, haven’t you ever played this before?” “Okay fine, I don’t know, you can eat all kinds of things for breakfast, sweet and savory stuff? I mean dinner would just be too harty, like you just woke up and now you gotta eat spaghetti?” Danny explains, his face twisted into a funny expression as he tries to justify his choice. You shrug your shoulders, “Fair enough. Okay, your turn.”

Danny searches the ceiling, looking for a question to ask you, “Would you rather only be able to talk during the daytime or speak only when you are spoken to?” He says with a smirk, “Ooh that is a hard one.” You ponder aloud, “For you, I’m sure it is.” He says with a scoff, “Fuck off.” You spit, he has always been much more quiet than you, you and Josh probably get along so well because you two are always so talkative and you know it drives Danny up the wall. “I guess only during the day? I’d have to do way more during the daytime hours then but I think I’d go crazy if I had to wait until someone spoke to me first.” You explain, Danny only gives a small exhale of a laugh, “Yeah I bet you’d explode, I’d be in heaven though, enjoying the silence for once.” He smiles as he tucks his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and relaxing into his imagination. You huff in annoyance, you crawl over to him, grabbing a pillow from behind him. You get a firm grip on the throw pillow and smack him across the face with it, his eyes slam open at the impact, snapping him out of his fantasy world. “Too bad! You’re suck in this frozen hell with me.” You say sitting up on your knees, only lightly towering over him in his position against the couch. “And you said my question sucked.” You mumble to yourself, retreating back to your spot, sitting on your newly acquired weapon of a decorative pillow. “Okay then you come up with a better one then! No more college ice breaker questions.” You sit a moment, thinking of something salacious and interesting, Danny sits staring at you cooly, his chest puffed out as he waits to see what on earth you could come up with.

“Alright, would you rather date someone who refuses to kiss you or someone who refuses to blow you? I bet these are real scenarios you’ve faced multiple times Danny boy.” You cross your arms, smiling proudly at your jab, letting him get a taste of his own medicine. He simply laughs at you, “I’ve actually never had a problem with either, women practically beg to suck my dick.” Danny smirks tilting his head like the cocky son of a bitch he is. “I highly doubt that.” “Why do I have to choose between these two? These fake people sound awful.” “Because it's a game Daniel.” You remind him, he moves to sit with his legs crossed, moving a bit closer to you and you silently pray the power comes back and Danny can get stuck in an avalanche on his way home. Danny groans as he twists his face up as he thinks of his answer, “I guess someone who won’t blow me wouldn’t be as awful as never being kissed? Like you at least need that in a relationship, right? We could always do other stuff?” He rationalizes, your eyebrows lift at his answer, a small, “Huh.” Passes your lips at his statement. The idea of Danny being so sentimental rather than obscene somewhat surprises you. “What?” He asks, not letting your comment slip without an explanation. “Just didn’t think about it like that.” You shrug, hoping he’ll drop it, but in very Danny fashion, he doesn’t. “I mean I can get off other ways, I just don’t think I’d be very happy in a relationship like that if they wouldn’t show me any affection like that.” He says, maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s just your constant need to be a contrarian to anything Danny says but you retort back, “I think I’d die if my boyfriend wouldn’t eat me out.” “Would you really choose that over never being kissed?” He asks curiously, leaning forward with interest. “Well after what you said, probably not but, fuck, some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had was from oral.” You smirk lazily, your mind drifting to the thought of a man buried between your legs. “Really?” Danny asks lowly, his voice incredibly soft as he asks you to say more.

“I don’t think there is a better feeling than sitting on a man’s face.” You say seductively and smile confidently as you stare him down as confidently as he’s staring at you. Your answer hangs in the air for a moment, the two of you taking in the other in the dim light of the candles surrounding the room. You start to feel your heart beating faster as you think of how his dark eyes look at you, looking at you like a lion staring down his next meal. He tilts his head up at you before speaking, looking almost as though he’s about to call your bluff.

“Would you rather have sex with your most recent ex or your worst enemy?” He asks smoothly. You let out a low chuckle, “Oh, Marcus? Yeah fuck no, the way we ended things really made me see his true colors.” You wince at the idea of even texting your ex, let alone to actually have sex with him again. Not that Marcus was bad in bed, he was fucking amazing, but knowing what you know now about how catty he was when things between you ended, he really turned into a childish prick. “Yeah he was kind of an asshole.” Danny agrees, reminiscing about the time he wouldn’t let you come and get your stuff from his apartment for a week just for a powertrip. The boys had your back throughout that whole break up, Marcus was incredibly controlling, you never really realized until after you broke up with him. You had to have the Kiszka boys and Danny come and help you move out, Josh even let you stay at his apartment until you found your own place.

“You’re not funny.” You say simply standing, Danny follows you and stands, his hand grabbing your wrist, “Oh come on princess it’s just a game. Don’t get all hurt-” “No, I see what you’re doing-” “And what’s that?” “You’re just trying to make fun of me!” You shout as you pull from Danny’s hold. “Why would I make fun of you?” “Because I want to fuck you!” Your voice rings out loudly, too loudly. The sound of your exclamation bouncing off the walls of your silent apartment. Your eyes wide as you realize your mistake, the silence feeling like a vice around your throat. “Oh.” Danny says softly, not knowing what to say. You can’t even look at him, you wish you could dissolve, evaporate into mist and float away. You stare at your socks, not sure what else to do, let alone say. Danny brings a hand up to your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his. You tense up at his forwardness, you fear he can see right through you and into your darkest thoughts, as if they were painted on your irises if he could only get close enough. “You would have been my answer too.” He speaks softly, his voice just above a whisper, his dark brown eyes searching yours.

“So who does that leave? You?” Danny simply shrugs, a small awaiting expression plays on his face as he listens for your answer. “I guess we are somewhat enemies.” He responds. “You called me your ‘mortal enemy’ in the car earlier.” “Then yeah, I guess me.” He smirks, your tough persona drops for a moment, your lips parting as you ponder the idea. You think about the way he had you backed up against your fridge, the way the air felt still and hot when he had you cornered, what you may have done if the power hadn’t gone out. You sit up straighter, almost nervous realizing you have to answer him. “You’re asking would I rather fuck my piece of shit ex or you?” You ask, feeling almost stupid but trying not to misunderstand. “I can’t be the worst choice in the world, can I?” He grins, you can feel a ball of nervousness play in your stomach, of course the choice here is easy but what would his reaction be? Would he hold this over you? Tell Sam all about it and tease you about it until the end of time? What would his choice be? “This game is stupid.” You shut down, choosing not to be humiliated. “How? It’s a fair question.” “It's a stupid question.” You push back, you realize Danny is only about a few feet away and you want him closer to- no he’s going to make you look like an idiot! It’s a trap, a fucking prank.

“I- you don’t, like- it’s not-this isn’t? It’s a part of the game? Like, we aren’t-” “Remember when I said you talk too much?” Danny interrupts, serious as can be, you only nod at his question. “Show me what you want.” He dares, his thumb running softly along your bottom lip. You watch his eyes follow the movement of his digit coasting slowly over your faded lipstick. You simply open your mouth, allowing him to slip his thumb inside your mouth, he places it on your tongue softly. You close your mouth around it, not venturing from his sight. You watch his reaction as his lips part, inhaling deeply at the feeling of the warm wetness of your mouth. You let your tongue run under his thumb, teasing him before opening your mouth again, his hand leaving your lips and taking you by the jaw. You two stare at each other in the golden glow of the candlelight against the pitch blackness of the snowy sky outside. He looks different to you now that you both understand the other's intentions, finally on the same side about something for once. His rich dark curls are cascaded around his face, the shadows from the light accentuating his cheekbones, the curve of his nose, the plumpness of his pink lips, the ones you were able to admire only for a moment before the two of you were plunged into darkness. Danny has always been attractive but at this moment, he looks absolutely divine. You take in his appearance one last time before swiftly, pulling him down to you by his sweater, letting your lips crash together in a kiss.

You can’t help the way your heart is beating so loudly in your ears, this is a man that made you roll your eyes and walk away in high school, the guy that can push your buttons until you are red in the face, but now, with his lips melting against yours, you begin to realize, was this all that built up tension? His large hands hold your face firmly to feel you close, yet soft enough to feel the gentle skin of your cheeks under his palms. He opens his mouth slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue along his bottom lip just before sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moan breathlessly into his mouth as his hands travel down your waist, landing at your hips and pulling you tightly to his front. You smile against his lips, “I thought this was would you rather, not truth or dare?” You giggle, the lingering alcohol making you a little more goofy than usual, Danny smirks and holds you firmly by the jaw, “Sure, let’s play, truth or dare?” His hand propping you up, forcing you to look into those dark brown eyes, made only more dramatic in this light. You smile defiantly at him, “Dare.” You simply say, not knowing just how the sound of that simple word rolling out of your throat was you hammering down the final nail in your coffin. Danny grins, he takes his time as he leans in to whisper into your ear, “I dare you to speak only when spoken to, to keep as quiet as you can.” His voice commands, the chills from his closeness, the warmth of his breath cascading down over your neck sends a delicious chill down your spine and an excitement that makes you grow warmer between your legs. He pulls away to gauge your answer, “That sound like something you want, princess?” His voice sounding so sweet even after asking for something so overtly kinky and sexual, the use of your once condescending nickname like this absolutely floods your underwear. He eyes you tenderly, searching for any doubt or discomfort, but he finds none. “Yes please.” You whisper, your voice faltering, betraying you with just how badly you want him.

“Oh and such good manners? Maybe you’re more obedient than you seem.” Danny says softly, his hands sliding up the hem of your sweater and resting on the skin of your waist beneath, warm hands radiating into your body. His voice is so gentle, speaking to you as though he was whispering to you in a room of perfect strangers, trying not to be heard by anyone other than just you. The way his eyes feel on your skin makes you want him to slam you against the wall and let him fuck you as hard and in anyway he deemed fit. But the way he’s touching you, fuck, you never want that to end.

Your hands travel up his sweater clad chest, begging to feel what he's hiding underneath all the fabric. His large hands find your wrists, "Would you like to take this into your bedroom, princess?" He asks, his voice sweet, the tone makes your heart swell. You nod your head in a simple answer, he takes you by the hand and walks you to your room. It's much darker in here, the smaller space feels so much more intimate and cozy, the light from the candles make the room feel almost foreign to you, shaded in a way you've never seen it before. You stand before the edge of the bottom of your bed, looking to Danny for further instruction, "Strip." He commands simply, you only grin as you take your sweater off and over your head, your pants and socks following suit, leaving you only in your bra and panties. Danny's eyes rake over you, "I showed you mine, now show me yours." You break the tension with sarcasm, trying desperately to undo any of the nervousness in your gut. Danny only comes closer to you now, "What did I say about talking?" His dark eyes stare unto yours, dammit, how could you forget? "I forgot-" "You've never been the best listener in the world have you?" He interrupts, passing you to sit on the edge of the bed behind you.

You look at him with a flare of annoyance but push back the urge to say something snarky, knowing whatever you just did may have its consequences, and consequences you'll have. "Come here." Danny beckons authoritatively, the words alone shouldn't have you reeling but here you are. You walk up to him, standing between his knees as he sits before you, even from your advantage of height from this position you still feel completely at his will. He takes your hand, pulling you over to him until he maneuvers you around and pulls you over his knees, your backside facing him, you gasp at the smoothness of his movements. His large hand runs gently over your plush ass cheek, your lace underwear not leaving much for the imagination but he runs his finger to your hip, snapping the thin material against your skin, the feeling making you slightly jolt. "Maybe you did forget," He smiles to himself as he brings his hand down swiftly, a smack cracking against your ass. You gasp and moan out, the surprise admission of your arousal makes you blush. You've never had a feeling like this before, such a beautiful mixture of pleasure in the pain. "But I'll help you remember." He soothes the stinging flesh with his hand. "I want you to count. Can you do that for me?" He asks, "Yes." You say, voice just above a whisper, shaking under his touch.

"Tell me if it gets to be too much. Red is stop, yellow is slow, green is go. Okay?" Danny guides his hand down the back of your thigh and up your ass, the feeling of his hand across your skin makes you even more excited, "Yes, sir." You agree, "There's those sweet manners again." He says, a smile obviously present in his tone as he brings his hand down against your ass, a hiss passes through your teeth. "Too bad they're a little too late." He runs his hand over you again, "One." You say through your teeth, the sting energizing you, heat pulsing to your core. His hand comes down again, "T-Two." And again, "Three-e." And again. "F-." You yelp, the stinging in your muscle is almost too much to bear, you can't speak, the wetness is pooling in your panties. "Come on princess, tell me what color." His voice is soft and caring, his hands softly working over your stinging hot cheeks. You think it over for a second, just needing a moment in between. "Yellow." You whisper, taking in a breath. Danny's hands run sweetly over your ass and up to the swell of your lower back, leaning over to whisper in your ear, "You're doing so good. Such a sweet girl." His voice is tender, chills dancing up and down your back.

"I can take it." You say, finding some resolve in your voice to keep it all together. "What color?" He asks patiently, "Green." You answer without hesitation. "Good girl." He smiles with a quick and final spank. "Five." You groan, your core is aching to be touched, Danny leans down, kissing softly on his red handprint he's most certainly left on your ass, the feeling of his lips on your burning skin feels deliciously cool. You let out a sigh from the feeling of his lips pressed to your burning skin. “You learned your lesson, sweet girl?” Danny whispers softly behind you, his hand running over the back of your thigh, dulled nails running gently up the back of your sensitive expanse of skin, teasing you as well as rewarding you. “Yes, sir.” You whisper back. “Good. Now we can really get to it.” His words make your heart jump into your throat, what on earth could he possibly do to top that? Just as easily as he laid you over his knees, he picks you up and tosses you on the bed, the look of cockiness and confidence on his face and the little bounce onto your own mattress makes your head swim, you cannot believe you are about to fuck Danny Wagner, screw worrying about ruining your friendship, you don’t even really have one, he just annoys you, pisses you off, and picks on you. Right? Then why does the idea of fucking him not bother you? You hate Danny. Right? Fuck. Maybe you don’t.

He pulls the sweater off and over his head, letting it fall to the ground, he climbs onto your bed, crawling over to be on top of you, the two of you taking a moment to just look at eachother like this. His arms are fucking crazy, you think to yourself unpoetically, the way his muscles just wind around his biceps, bulging and flexing as he shifts above you, his hair long as it cascades above you. His nose casts such a beautiful shadow, his eyes are softened, he looks almost like you’ve never seen him before, like you’re able to stare at him without whatever curtain there was blocking your view. He kisses you, this time it's soft, almost caring, like he’s telling you something without having to use his voice. Your hands find his hair, they roost comfortably in the tresses, tight against his scalp, the feeling of your hands on him like this makes you want him even more. He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth, he rests more on top of you, the feeling of his bare chest against you, the feeling of his tongue running against yours, feels so right. You pull at his hair, earning a low groan from him that only makes you need more of him. He ruts his hips involuntarily against your center, making you whine against his kiss. He smiles into the kiss, “You need more, don’t you princess?” His husky voice asks, “Please, Danny, please touch me.” The tone of your voice surprises even you the way you’re pleading with him. “No need to beg baby, I’ll give it to you.” He promises, his voice you can tell has an edge to it, he’s far from done with teasing you. Danny’s lips come to your neck, the feeling of his breath and tongue against your sensitive skin driving you wild, his tongue licks up the shell of your ear, “I can’t stop thinking about the way you said you loved sitting on someone's face.'' His voice melts like candle wax as he speaks into your ear, a moan escapes you from just his words and closeness to you. “I want to taste you, princess.” “Please.” Your own voice betraying you, it's been far too long since you’ve been this intimate with anyone, you’ve been practically climbing up the walls from how withdrawn you’ve been since you and Marcus broke up. The way Danny has you just like this without having really touched you is a testament to how in need you are, you worry that even the very first touch of his tongue will make you cum.

He pulls out of the kiss and looks to you, "Let me see what you look like riding mine.'' He smirks that ever present cocky smile and rolls over on his back next to you. You sit up and look at him, laying beautifully with his hair laid over your pillows, the last place you thought you'd ever find Danny, but he looks like he belongs here. Belongs under the candlelight, like it's the one place you could ever truly see him, like invisible ink under a black light, he is revealed to you. With him on display like this you let your eyes wander, the broad expanse of his chest, his abdomen that is rippling with muscle, his shoulders are wide and skin that looks so warm and inviting. Your core is dripping wet from all Danny's teasing, he puts his hands under his head, relaxed as you sit up before him, sitting on your knees. "Take it all off baby, gimme a show."

You give him a confident grin, letting your hands come to unclasp the back of your bra, you slowly work off the straps on either side, revealing your breasts to him, tossing the undergarment away. His eyes look to your chest, ogling your breasts and your waist, you take your time, taking away some of the power he’s held over you thus far, turning around so he can see your bareback and your lacy underwear adorning your ass, red hand print and all. He grins to himself at his handiwork, hoping you’ll think of him tomorrow when your ass stings when you sit down, remembering who the handprint on your skin belongs to. You bend over to slowly pull your already soaking wet panties down your legs, finally kicking them off and turning to look back at Danny, his eyes looking like he could set you on fire just from his stare. You give him a sweet smile as you crawl over his body, straddling his face, feeling just a tad self conscious, “Climb on, princess.” He rasps, his breath fanning over you, sending a shiver up your spine. You make your way higher up on his face and slowly sit down, trying not to rest all of your weight on him. His tongue immediately lays flat against you, a moan rolling out of your mouth, much louder than you anticipated, Danny chuckles against you from the volume of your moan. He begins a delicious assault on your clit, your legs begin to tremble as you attempt to hold your weight up above him. Your tries are in vain as Danny pulls you fully against his lips, his large hands gripping around your thighs, holding you to his face, keeping you from straining yourself, you ease into him, finally letting go and letting him take over. You relinquish your power, if you even had any to begin with, over to Danny, letting his hot tongue bury into you. You mewl above him, the feeling too good to hold back, you look down, his eyes are closed, completely blissed out and in beautiful concentration as he fucks you with his tongue.

You try your best to keep some sort of composure, not allowing yourself to touch him, out of fear of hurting him or something but his tongue kitten licks at your core in just the perfect way that you can’t hold back anymore. Your hands go to his hair and you can’t help but pull at his long dark waves and rock your hips against him, his hands reach up your body, squeezing at your breasts, his thumbs running over your hardened nipples. You rock harder on his mouth, searching desperately for your orgasm, his tongue laps at you in such a way that you can’t keep your hips from bucking, his nose bumps against your clit and you let out a high pitched whine, “Oh fuuuck yes.” You cry out as you squeeze your eyes closed, trying to get to that sweet place of relief, when all of a sudden Danny completely stops, fuck. You whine from the loss of his tongue, you look down to him, he smiles up at you with a dark expression. “Feels too good baby? You know what happens when you break our rule.” He says, scolding you. “Please Danny, please I’m so close-” “Lay down.” He simply commands, his hand tapping you slightly on your thigh. Your legs feel like jello as you roll off of him, he unbuttons his pants, sliding them off his long legs, leaving him only in his briefs, his cock straining against his underwear. Danny comes to hold himself up above you, “Poor baby, so close to cumming and she had to go ahead and ruin it for herself.” His voice is like honey when he says such dirty things, you can only give him a look of pure anguish as he speaks, you squeeze your thighs together, relishing in the feeling of your own wetness and Danny’s saliva, you need more of him like your life depends on it. His eyes catch on to your movement, his hand takes hold of your jaw, cradling it gently yet firmly in his hand, “Don’t worry, I’m still gonna take care of you, even if you are acting like a little brat.” He smiles at you, you give him the biggest doe eyed look you can muster, silently begging him to hurry up and fuck you senseless.

“You look so beautiful like this, so sweet.” His hand wanders from your face and travels down your face, sliding down your breasts, down past your stomach and finally between your thighs, your eyes never leaving his as his fingers slip through your folds and up against your clit, you let out a shaky sigh at his touch, he tilts his head as he watches your reaction intently, he pulls his fingers away and to his lips, tasting you, “You taste even sweeter.” His voice is gravelly and rough, so sexy and lude. His fingers come back between your thighs, his middle finger slowly stroking up and down over your clit, the feeling of his warm wet fingers make you practically shiver at his touch, “You like when I touch you like this, princess?” His voice like a snake slithering in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body in a wave. “Yes, Danny.” Your voice quakes with desperation, “Please, please fuck me, I want you so bad.” You breathe, if he weren’t so close he probably wouldn’t have heard it. His fingers slide inside of you, so easily and sweetly from the way his mouth worked over you. You and Danny collectively sigh at the feeling, “Oh fuck, you feel so tight. You ready for me baby?” He asks tenderly as he looks you over, “Please.” You moan as he slowly pulls his fingers away.

Danny pulls his briefs down, his erection springing up, his hand stroking himself slowly. Your eyes like a deer in the headlights at the beauty of his hardened cock, the motion of his hand over his already slick looking head makes your pussy throb. He’s big, probably the biggest you’ve ever been with, so full and long. You honestly could probably cum without even touching yourself at this point, just watching the melodic movement of his large hand, the veins on the tops of the skin of his hand turning you on more than it should as he moves up and down his hardened shaft. Danny smirks at your reaction, a low chuckle rolling up his throat brings you back to him, you close your mouth that you didn’t even realize was open until his eyes were on you. “Roll over, ass up.” Danny’s voice sends a heat to your cheeks, you give him one last glance before turning over. The warm still air feels like the electricity is back and flowing throughout the room, but you know that's only because of the energy between you and the dark curly haired man about to rail you into oblivion.

You give him a bit of a show, getting on all fours and dipping forward until your chest lays against the sheets, swaying your ass gently, not being able to speak kills you but you wouldn't even know what to say besides, 'please fuck me, please put me in my place, please I wanna feel you.' But your motions and your dripping wet pussy say plenty without saying anything at all. "Such a pretty girl, see how good you are when you keep your mouth shut." His voice makes you red with both annoyance and pure eroticism, you never thought that hearing him say things like this to you would do so much to you. You protest silently, pushing your ass back against him, searching for his warmth. His hand comes down on your ass again, stinging more than it should from your previous spankings. You hold back a whine with your lip tucked between your teeth, "What's the rush, princess?" His hand rubs a soft circle over the stinging flesh, his other hand venturing down the center of your back and sliding down over your ass, his fingers running over your pussy, "I'll take good care of you." He breathes gently, you sigh at the feeling of his warm hand against your throbbing core, needing more of him and quick. His middle finger teases your clit, swirling the bud under the pad of his finger, you let out a moan and a shaking breath from the attention you've been craving, but as quickly as his hand appeared, it disappears, withdrawing it as he lines himself up to your entrance.

He ruts himself up against the curve of your ass, you both sigh at the delightful feeling of some sort of physical affection. His length teases at your entrance, gathering the arousal from your center and wetting his tip, you damn near let out a cry of desperation, trying to hold it together until finally, he slides into you. The sound of your collective sigh as you both fall entranced by the feeling of the other. He feels so good, so fucking good, stretching you out in a way you haven’t felt before, his length was something you needed a moment to adjust to, and proving to be ever the gentleman, he allowed you such a moment. “Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, nearly voiceless as his presence inside you completely engulfs every space inside of your mind. His hips start up a slow pace, his hands holding you just tight enough to move you against him but enough for you to try and cement this feeling in your memory forever. “Feels so fucking tight, feels so good baby.” He groans, his hips picking up their rhythm as you find you both find your footing in the feeling of each other. His hands grip tighter on your hips, his cock slamming into you so deeply, reaching your cervix and running against your g-spot has you moaning, crumbling under him, the way his body feels against yours like he is so intune with you, hitting all the right spots. Your moans are falling out of you like he’s punching them out with his hips snapping against you, you turn your head as well as you can from your position against the pillows. His body is glimmering under the light of the candles, his beautifully dark hair swaying in time with him, his eyes hooded in pleasure. The look on his face is enough to pull a soft, “Danny,” from your lips. Why you said his name knowing you were told not to speak, well, you’re not even sure why, was it because this was all too crazy to be real? Was it that you could feel your heart swell from his soft and vulnerable expression as he buried himself inside you? Or was it because all of this was something you had only thought of in your darkest fantasies? That this hate fuck felt less like hate and more like years of pent up frustration and desire finally succumbing into a puddle of bliss, moans and candle light.

You kept your eyes trained on him, the pain in your neck be damned, you weren’t going to miss this for the world. All of those nights around a Kiszka’s campfire, staring daggers at each other over the flames, all of the pointed comments, the little outbursts of annoyance seemed to build a wall not between you two, but around the both of you, pushing you closer and closer to each other until it brought you here, to this boiling point. Danny’s eyes find yours, a lazy smile out of pure ecstasy on his lips, even with him fucking you from behind like this, this moment of eye contact feels even more intimate. Your brows are knit from the feeling of the tension building inside of you, your mouth hanging open as you stare at him, feeling like he can almost see right through you. You have to tear your eyes away, fearing he can see straight into your soul. His hand finds its way to your hair, pulling you up on all fours, the feeling of his fist pulling you by your scalp making you moan, you retaliate and start to press back against him, fucking yourself on his length, letting Danny just ease back and letting you take over. “You’re such a fucking slut. Fucking yourself on me like this.” His voice falters, betraying him through his tough and domineering behavior. You giggle to yourself, loving the way you can make him react, you try and recreate the pace he had set, but moving backwards is too hard to keep up with the merciless metronome of his pelvis. Danny leans forward, his chest against you for a moment as his arms circle around you, pulling your whole body up, your back flushed against his chest, a low groan is pulled from your vocal chords in the change of position, his hard dick deeper inside you now.

“You’re so cute when you think you’re in control.” His voice is low, right against the shell of your ear, one arm wrapped against your chest, his hand grasping one of your breasts as his other hand is holding tight to your hip from his arm strapped across your belly, locking you in a perfect position of pure pleasure, but also a hold you couldn’t move from. You let your head lay back against his shoulder, letting go and letting him pound into you from this new angle. Your eyes practically roll back into your skull as you can feel him moving inside you, his tip brushing wonderfully against your g-spot makes you let out a long moan at the feeling. “So good for me, so good princess.” His throat vibrates against you, the feeling of it alone sends you through the roof in pleasure. These small things he does shouldn’t be affecting you so much but here you are, thinking about the way his voice sounds, the small puffs of breath falling from his pillowy lips and against your shoulder, the way his hair tickles your back, and the way his arm muscles look as they hold your body tight against his own. You look up to his face, acknowledging the perfect angle of his jaw line, the soft skin of his neck, you can’t resist, you lean forward with whatever room you have and lick up his neck and up to his ear lobe, letting a moan sing into his ear as you rest against him, looking at his face in profile, even prettier this close up.

Danny looks down into your begging doe eyes, swiftly pulling himself out of you and spinning you around to lie on your back, him tossing you around like a rag doll makes your jaw drop. He hovers above you, lining himself back up and sliding inside you once more. His eyes seem to drink you in, looking over you like he never had before, he fills you back up, fully seated inside of you, you bite down on your lip, a routine you're growing too accustomed to, trying your best to keep quiet, wanting to cum so badly you don't risk letting anything slip without Danny’s permission. You whine under him as he thrusts into you, turning to quiet yourself in the solace of the pillows beside you, Danny moans at the sight, how you squirm and writhe beneath him. His hand comes down to your face, grabbing you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “You can speak now baby, show me how fucking good you feel.” He sounds desperate, needing so badly to hear your voice you once thought he couldn’t stand. You let your bottom lip free from your teeth’s hold on it, letting your groans, curses and his name all fall freely from your lips. The two of you hold eye contact as he brings his thumb to your clit, rolling in tight circles making your back arch.

With his permission in your mind, you don't hold back, moans flowing forth, crying out in pure ecstasy, "You're cock feels so fucking good, so fucking big." You sob out, your voice coming out in shambles as his thrusts ramp up at the sound of your whines. "You're such a whore for this cock, always such a princess." His voice quaking from his hips snapping against yours, he lets himself come down closer to you, a proximity you find yourself hypnotized by. His eyes are golden brown, they’re beautiful the way they feel on you is like you can feel a bubbling energy in your chest, your hands come to hold him closer to you, feeling his back muscles rippling underneath your palms. His expression looks less boastful and cocky as he usually looks, instead he looks almost vulnerable? He looks more human like he’s holding onto the memory of your face underneath him, he looks less like a douchebag prick and more like prince charming. The knot in your lower stomach is becoming increasingly obvious, unable to hold back the white hot feeling of bursting at the seams any longer. “D-Danny, I’m so close.” You mewl, your legs wrapping around his hips, “Me too, I’m almost there.” His voice is addictive, the way he sounds like he’s slowly coming apart draws you nearer to paradise. “Please don’t stop.” You beg, your eyes fluttering closed as you fall into the feeling of his thumb running against your clit, never waning in its movements. A sudden pressure on your throat brings you back to him, “Look at me, I want you to look at me when you cum.” He demands, “Yes, sir.” You croak out as best as you can, the feeling of his hands on you in this way, controlling your pleasure, when you can cum and even controlling your flow of oxygen is so sexy it pulls you near the edge, just mere inches from falling into the abyss. He can feel the way your pussy tightens around him that you’re close, he brings up his speed double time, “I’m gonna, oh Danny-” Danny releases his hold over your windpipe,“Come on baby, cum for me.” His words and the rush of oxygen bringing on your climax, you do as you’re told and never let your eyes wander from Danny, you claw at him and cling to him for dear life as he continues to pound into you, chasing after his own high.

He watches intently as you writhe underneath him, he looks absolutely entranced by you, the way you look so lost in a perfect dream like state as you moan and whine, his mouth slack jawed as he gets lost in you, his thumb slowing on your clit to guide you through your orgasm without you falling through it and becoming overstimulated. Though it was his instruction not to look away from him, to look at him when you cum, you don’t think you could look away if you tried. His eyes are hazy with a beautiful fog of lust, you can’t stop the flow of his name rolling off of your tongue as the knot inside of you snaps, your ankles locking him against you, your nails clawing down his back is what finally does it. “Ah-ah, fuck.” He groans, you watch in equal awe as Danny’s brows knit in angelic bliss, completely dropping his hardened exterior as he cums, hard and deep inside you. He presses his forehead against yours, his husky voice like silk as he cries out your name, he holds you close, your hands finding purchase in his hair, pulling him down into the crook of your neck, needing him closer to you as you both fall to pieces in each other's embrace.

The labored breathing of the two of you as you come back to earth is what gets your mind turning, fuck, what have you done? This can’t be a mistake, like you thought before, what is there to lose? You don’t even like Danny, you’re not even friends?! Right? Then why does the thought of him getting up and leaving you tonight make you feel sick to your stomach? “So,” You start, bringing Danny back to you, his head popping up and looking almost meekly up at you, as though you just caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Would you rather, we keep this a secret and never speak of this again,” You ask, looking for the rest of your courage to say what you have to say next. “Or spend the night with me and figure out what the fuck this all means?” You look to him as he rolls over next to you, his gaze fixated on the candlelight bouncing around the ceiling. He just lets out a content laugh, “I’m not an idiot-” “Well…” You jest, trying to break the tension as you let your head roll over to look at him, “I’m not a total idiot, is what I meant. I don’t think this was a one time thing, do you?” He asks, his answer surprising you, the bile in your stomach calming down now that you seem to be on the same page. “This was too…” You hesitate looking for the words to best describe your true feelings, even if you don’t totally understand them yourself, “Easy? I guess? I don’t know, I just, I didn’t think I… wanted this so badly.” You smile, hoping you make even a bit of sense. “Yeah, me neither.” Danny confesses wistfully, his eyes looking over your face, he looks so plush and soft, you scoot closer, inches from his lips now. “Maybe I don’t hate you as much as I thought I did.” You whisper against him, he smirks his hand pushing a strand of hair gently behind your ear, “Yeah, I don’t think I could hate you anymore. Not now that I know you’re not a total brat.” He says with a look in his eye that makes you blush.

The lamp by your bedside turns on, the whirring and buzzing of the power in your building coming back to life, the dreamscape you had created with Danny now essentially dissolving away, bringing you both back to reality. “Looks like the power is back on.” You observe, “You’re not trapped here anymore, if you want to leave.” You say, worried what his answer may be. “I think we should get cleaned up, don’t want to sleep in dirty sheets, and I think we could both use a shower.” He says so casually it sets your heart at ease. You give him a smile, eyes lingering as he leans in and kisses you deeply, the feeling pushing away any doubts from your mind. So here you are, finding yourself staring back at your former nemesis, thinking of how you ever once hated a face that is so perfectly sittable.

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marahuyos · 3 years

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anon asked: Im sorry, I don't know if you're open, if you aren't then feel free to ignore this :")

But if you are, this might be a random idea but can i get Diluc, Xiao and Childe's reaction when they learn that their GN! S/O has a natural skill to train slimes? I just think the vision of an adventurer reader constantly being followed by a small group of slime or them using them as pillows when they camp out is just too cute TwT

*:･ﾟ✧ this request is so cute hnnn i remember playing slime rancher a whole lot so this request makes me so happy <3

diluc x gn!reader, xiao x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader

tw: none

✧ Diluc Ragnvindr

• It was at your camp when Diluc found out about your natural affinity to garner slimes.

• Both of you just finished exterminating Abyss Mages in Windrise so you two ventured back to the Dawn Winery. The bad part is that it was nighttime, so you and Diluc had to make camp. It wasn't rare for you two to camp out, but it was the first few times that you and Diluc camped out together.

• You two act like an old-married couple but in the wilderness. Diluc fixes up the tent and prepares the ingredients while you start cooking. As much as you wanted Diluc to cook his signature steak, you settled for a hearty stew. Sometimes, if Diluc is feeling lighthearted, he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

• These were the moments that you treasured. You know Diluc had a tough time showing emotion and you were proud of him for taking the step forward. The fact that you have his arms around you is also a bonus, though.

• You two enjoyed the moment together, feeling his warmth as you spooned his food into his bowl, you heard the rustling of grass. Diluc tensed, summoning his claymore as he placed himself in front of you. You appreciated the sight of his crimson hair and broad back if not for the fact that the monsters that showed up were mere slimes.

• You giggled when you heard Diluc's sharp sigh through his nose. You set down the bowls and touched Diluc's shoulder. "Let me handle this."

• He watches you in mild interest, watching you go near the slimes. He nearly stepped in when the three slimes are hopping closer but he froze when he sees you pet the slimes like they were dogs. The three little Dendro slimes cuddled up to you like puppies at you cooed at them.

• Diluc watched, flabbergasted at the sight. You looked so... in your element that he wondered if you did this normally. It was only a few conversations about slime training that you did do this normally and that you actually owned a ranch with a lot of slimes that you corralled by yourself.

• He's honestly impressed by how efficient your ranch is. Each slime is corralled depending on their element and the secretions that they emit are all sold to the people who need it, more specifically Albedo who never seems to not run out on slime excretions. Your entire ranch is perfect that he can't help but be proud of how much you accomplished.

• If you allow it, he also commissions you to get slime secretions specific for his drinks. He would be remiss not to use these slimes to the fullest advantage. Of course, he pays you always in full whenever he does and you giggle when Diluc gives you a knowing look when people compliment his newest concoction.

• If you roped in Diluc in ranching, he'd be a walking stick. He'd be so frozen on the spot that you had to bite your lip to prevent saliva from going everywhere when you laugh. It was funny to see the man use a vacuum only for the Geo slimes to hit his face. You're always there to bandage his scratched face and the excuse towards people and Kaeya is that he got stuck fighting a finicky Abyss Mage.

• But Kaeya ain't gonna let the image of a Geo slime slamming itself onto his brother's face go anytime soon.

✧ Xiao

• He found out when he was chasing off demon-possessed monsters.

• It was any normal night where Xiao has to purge the evil in the land of Liyue. Some Hilichurls, some Mitachurls, even the run-of-the-mill treasure hoarders causing too much trouble, Xiao continued on. During this night, he was busy chasing the last remaining Hilichurl, using his Anemo powers to keep up with it. He was at a much closer distance now, his arm tensing as he readied to plunge the monster--

• Plop plop! The sound of cryo slimes bouncing up towards the Hilichurl. In a comedic twist of fate, the slimes started clumping up to the monster, leaving it a shivery cold mess at it stopped itself from how cold it was. Xiao gently lowered himself on the ground, looking at the sight with a blank stare.

• Hearing the sound of footsteps, he brandished his spear, eyes flitting over to the perpetrator before it turned out to be you. You were holding a geo slime in your arms as more slimes followed you like puppies. Your eyes widened at the appearance of Xiao with his brandished spear and a Hilichurl getting cuddled to hypothermia by your cryo slimes.

• "Hi, honey?"

• It took you an hour, the first few minutes are you trying to pry Xiao from killing the slimes when they got too close to you, to show Xiao that you have a natural affinity to train slimes. You showed him your ranch and all of the slimes that you've trained so far. Xiao was like a confused cat, eyes widening at each new addition to your ranch. He has to confess on how obscure this talent was, even for mortal standards.

• Still, it puts his mind at ease when he knows that you're safe with a bunch of slimes at your side. Even with their soft bodies and brainless... brains, Xiao knows that they'll at least be a distraction for you to run away.

• But still, to see you so content with a dendro slime as a pillow, watching your relaxed smile... He wishes he had more to his thighs to allow you to sleep on him instead. He grits his teeth every time he has to look at your sleeping form, with a slime underneath your head looking just as content as you are.

✧ Childe

• Out of everyone here, I think Childe would be the least surprised considering at some point, his younger siblings tried to ranch slimes only to end up frozen and sitting next to the fireplace. After a stern lecture from both his parents and older siblings, he can't help but think that whoever would do the same thing would be way too idiotic--

• Oh wait, you do it? Childe thinks it's the cutest thing in the world! Disregard the admonished stares of his younger siblings, saying that he was a simp hypocrite. He loves it and you!

• He enjoys watching you tend to the slimes like they were your own kids. He's like a little kid, watching his older sibling do something cool. If you were able to squint, you could see a little bit of a glimmer shining in Childe's eyes as you teach him how to take care of the slimes.

• Regardless, he's an excellent student. He picks up on how to take care of slimes fast to the point that he could've been your permanent helper. He handles all the heavy lifting, such as moving heavy toys for the slimes to play with, the feed that slimes needed, lifting you up in the air and twirling you around like you two are newlyweds (honestly, the image of you two settling down in a slime farm seems like the best thing Childe could think of).

• If possible, he asks if you can expand your ranch towards Snezhnaya where his siblings can watch you work. He can practically see his younger siblings' faces as you taught them how to care of slimes amidst the freezing weather. Even when Childe has to walk off the jabs that they've done to his side for falling in love with a slime rancher, he's still thinking on what ring to get.

• Remember that he's a family man and he wants to settle down at some point. Sure, he has an insatiable bloodlust but when you came along, the hunger for violence dwindled down. Each time he sees you regard slimes like they were your own children, each time you slap slime secretion on his face to instigate a play fight, each time you kiss him when he comes back from his mission; all of those things made him remember that he wasn't Tartaglia or Childe. He was Ajax, with a light in his eyes and a bunch of slime children to wrangle.

• Of course, he's still a child at heart, so if he sees you getting comfy with a slime pillow, bet he's gonna yank that slime from under you and replace it with his thighs. His thighs are packin', at least better than Xiao's, and you can feel them tense if you run your fingers over them.

• This is why you lose precious sleep and have Childe do all your chores for you. And no he gets no payment in kisses.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc imagines #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #xiao #xiao imagines #xiao x reader #childe #childe imagines #childe x reader

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

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Dog Days

Relationship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluffy! Summary: You agree to accompany Yelena to the pet shelter so she can look for a dog. While there, though, you lock eyes with the sweetest golden retriever... Natasha ends up coming home to quite the surprise. A/N: Bad title, even worse summary! but what’s new.

Masterlist

When you woke up that morning, you hadn’t expected that by the afternoon you’d be standing in what felt like a sea of dogs. In fact, you knew for a cold hard fact you weren’t supposed to be in this position.

Earlier in the week, Yelena had finally announced she was committing to getting a dog, a task she had been hemming and hawing about for months. Naturally, you and Natasha were pretty excited for her. It felt like you two were becoming aunts in some sort of way. Natasha then offered to go to the shelter with Yelena and the plans had been made.

But come the morning of and Natasha was whisked away to a meeting or something. You didn’t know, you weren’t an Avenger — you only dated one.

You broke the news to Yelena that morning when she came to pick up Natasha. There was a tinge of disappointment written on her face but she did her best to keep up that unbothered persona. It never worked on you when your girlfriend did it and it certainly wasn’t working now with her sister. After a short debate with yourself, you had impulsively grabbed your purse and told Yelena you’d go with her. She didn’t fight you on it.

And that was how you ended up being pestered by dog after dog after dog. They seemed to be never-ending as you two walked up and down the aisles of the local shelter. There were big ones, small ones. Loud ones, shy ones. Puppies and seniors. Each and every one of them looked up at you with the sweetest eyes. It was starting to become concerning how much your heart ached for these little guys. But you weren’t here for yourself — no way, that was never the plan — and instead directed your attention to pointing out potential adoptees for Yelena.

She was quick to shut down your chihuahua suggestion which, well, was sort of reasonable. Yelena didn’t come off as the type. Then you passed some cages of great danes but those were a little on the too big side. Another fair point, they could be tough to corral.

Then you two stumbled upon the German shepherds. You don’t think you’d ever seen Yelena’s eyes light up so much. If falling in love at first sight was a thing with dogs, it happened at that moment you observed. While Yelena approached the cage to introduce herself to the dog, you stepped around looking at the others in the area.

That was when you had your own love at first sight moment. There, in the cage right next to the dog Yelena was looking at, was the sweetest, happiest golden retriever you had ever seen. He perked up immediately as you stepped towards the cage, tail wagging happily, mouth opened to what looked like to be a smile. As weird as that fact sounded, it felt true. This dog certainly looked happy to see you. The feeling was mutual.

Carefully, you stuck your hand between the cage bars and the dog sniffed you out. Within seconds he was licking you, a silent greeting and acceptance. It was over for you then and Yelena apparently had picked up on it.

"Natasha is going to have quite the surprise for her once she gets home," she laughed, watching you pet the dog as well as you could between the bars.

You bit your lip, holding back your own laugh. "It’s not like I can just walk away."

"Of course not."

"That’d be cruel."

"I agree."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "You just want me in trouble."

Yelena shrugged. "I do think it can be amusing hearing you and my sister bicker."

"Oh, just worry about your own dog," you shooed her away. She turned back to the German shepherd, letting out another laugh. The shepherd barked.

When Yelena found a volunteer to begin the adoption process, you followed as well. Like your feet had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was your heart. Whatever it was, you just knew you hadn’t expected your day to go as such.

***

It was very clear that Natasha also hadn’t expected the day to go the way it did.

It was close to midnight when the apartment door opened. You and the new dog, which you had found was named Sparky, were still up playing with the variety of new toys you had purchased for him. After adopting the golden retriever, you realized, well, you had nothing for him. He wasn’t technically supposed to be in the back of the car, looking around all excitedly, if today had gone the way it was meant to.

You stopped by a pet store on the way back which Sparky was very, very excited about. You found he was very kind with other dogs and got overly excited about anything flavored with bacon. You even let him pick out his own toys which led to quite the array of items.

You had just bounced a ball for Sparky to chase when you noticed a presence in the entryway of the living room. You nearly jumped out of your skin, still not used to the way your assassin girlfriend could be so stealthy.

"Nat, hello!" You exclaimed as if everything was normal and this was a very typical night. She didn’t look impressed standing with her arms crossed, eyes darting every now and then to the golden retriever who was now prancing back to you with the ball.

"What’s going on here?" She asked slowly, curiously. Sparky finally noticed Natasha and trotted over, trying to say hello. Your girlfriend looked a bit unsure, to say the least.

"Um, that’s Sparky the Golden Retriever," you explained, motioning to the dog still waiting for Natasha to pet him. She patted his head gently.

"I see that," she nodded. "I guess I’m asking… What’s he doing in our apartment?"

You stood from the floor and took a few steps towards your girlfriend. You discarded the toy in your hand, trying to figure out how to really explain everything now. "Well, you see, after you went to that meeting this morning, I told Yelena I’d go with her to the shelter."

Natasha nodded, encouraging you to go on.

You sighed. "I-I didn’t plan on it, obviously, but I saw Sparky in the cage and I just… Oh, Nat. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me. He’s so sweet. We got along right away and he seemed so excited to meet me… I couldn’t just leave him there!"

Natasha let out a light laugh, completely abandoning her angry girlfriend persona to finally kneel to the golden retriever’s height. She scratched behind his ears which earned a happy sigh from the dog. "Of course you couldn’t leave a face like this."

You let out your own sigh of relief and kneeled down as well. Hesitantly, you asked, "You’re not upset?"

Natasha shrugged. "I was certainly surprised," she admitted, "but I think I should’ve known this would happen."

"Excuse me?" You let out a faux surprise gasp. Natasha chuckled.

"Well, when I knew I couldn’t go I figured you’d step in," she explained. "You are absolutely hopeless when it comes to resisting animals. It was just a matter of time until I came home to this."

You smiled at her analysis of you. Ever the spy, can never turn it off. "Yelena was no help either in the situation. She definitely persuaded me but she was just banking on us arguing over it."

That made Natasha let out the most joyous laugh. You couldn’t help your smile getting bigger at her finding the situation amusing. "I expect nothing less from her," Natasha said.

You nodded in agreement. "Thank gosh it worked out," you said and began petting Sparky’s back. He was stuck between a shower of love and was taking in every second of it, tongue hanging out in happiness, eyes shut in content. "I was worried you’d make me return him."

Your girlfriend shook her head. "That’d be impossible." She sighed, "I can’t believe I’m now a… What do they call that? A dog mom?"

You gasped, a lightbulb going off in your head. "We could get little dog mom shirts made. Sparky could even get his own bandana. We’d have matching family outfits."

Natasha raised her hand, wordlessly asking you to slow down. "Please don’t push it, dear."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Fine," you shrugged, "but you can’t control what I get you for Christmas."

As if he understood, Sparky let out a bark in agreement.

Natasha sighed. "I’m outnumbered now, aren’t I?"

Sparky turned towards you, giving your cheek what felt like a million licks. Through your laughter, you confirmed your girlfriend’s suspicion.

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fics-n-stuff · 3 years

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Home - Pt 2

For @glowstick-lesbian, request here

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary: After Y/N finally gets out hiding, it's time to sit down with Kaz and talk through whatever it is that's going on between them.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Brief talk of Jordie and Kaz's trauma and touch aversion

A/N: Wow this ended up being longer than I intended! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, I was focused on The Bastard's Shadow and Affluenza pts1 + 2, and then I started picking up more shifts at work and got writers block at the same time. I really hope you like how it turned out!! ❤❤

Pt1 here

After the very enlightening visit from Kaz, the days seemed to drag on even slower than before. The next two months went by in a crawl, and no matter how much you buried yourself in work you couldn’t distract from the longing you felt to get out of your apartment.

When your messenger came to deliver the news that your pursuers were willing to come to a truce you had been so happy that you’d gone straight to pour yourself a glass of whisky to celebrate. From then, you counted down the days until the meeting that you set up, the result of which should mean that you were free to roam the city again.

Inej had shown you how to get out of the window and onto the roof months ago. It was your escape route in case of an emergency, but you had used it every now and then just to sit on the roof and enjoy a taste of the outside world. That night, you had climbed out with intention and dressed in your finest coat.

You travelled over the rooftops towards the Government district, where your meeting had been arranged to take place near the Stadhall. The presence of the stadwatch would serve to protect you in case the deal went south.

You had been jittery with a mix of anxiety and excitement when you descended to street level and wended your way through the streets to find three men waiting for you at the Stadhall, all of them tall, broad and commanding. Barrel businessmen that you had crossed one too many times, and no doubt they had been angered that forcing you into hiding hadn’t put a stop to your business.

You were too smart to have not found a way around it; you had to be to run the business that you did. You owned three boarding houses and two bars in the Barrel and two ships that brought in imports from Ravka and Novyi Zem, a squaller as a permanent fixture on the crew of each to whom you paid a fair salary. You’d had Kaz put them under the protection of the Dregs to keep them safe from slavers. On top of all of that, you used your contacts in Ravka, Novyi Zem and other parts of Kerch to help get kids out of the Barrel and into honest work elsewhere. You might operate from the criminal underbelly of Ketterdam, but you made a mostly honest living.

The meeting took longer than you had anticipated. The three men were eager to negotiate territories that you couldn’t conduct business in and items that they didn’t want you to import because it was cutting into their own business. You held firm, you knew what was fair and you would be damned if you let anyone bully you into submission.

In the end, you essentially just agreed not to get in their way, which was easy enough to do. You wouldn’t actively compete with them in the sale of imported goods, and you wouldn’t try to convince any of the lads that they used as runners and grunts to get out of the Barrel. As long as you kept your distance from them you’d be fine, since they were clearly tired of chasing after you.

“Alright then, the deal is the deal.” You said, holding out your hand. All three shook hands with you in turn, echoing the phrase as was customary. When the man in the middle – clearly the leader and the last to shake with you – took your hand, you tightened your grip and leaned forward. “If you try to cheat me after this deal, you will have Dirtyhands to answer to.” You said lowly. He tried not to show his reaction but the fear in his eyes betrayed him, and you released his hand. It wasn’t often that you involved Kaz and his reputation in your affairs, but sometimes it paid to be friends with the most ruthless man in Ketterdam.

You left the meeting with your head held high and took a gondel back to the Barrel. You were approached by a few people who stayed in one of your boarding houses or drank in one of your bars on your walk to the Crow Club, telling you that they had been curious or worried about having not seen you around for so long. You didn’t engage in any conversation beyond polite acknowledgment, too eager to get to the Crow Club.

Inej was the only one that knew that you were getting out tonight. You had told her when she had come to deliver your food for the week and she had promised to try and keep everyone corralled at the Crow Club so that you could make a big entrance, but the later it got the less likely it was that she could keep them all there without raising suspicion.

You practically ran down the last street towards the Crow Club, bursting through the open door and searching the crowd for your friends. Jesper caught sight of you at the same moment that you spotted them all at the bar, and you saw his jaw drop in shock. A huge grin spread on your face as he set his drink down, his sudden change in demeanor getting the attention of the rest of the group and causing them to turn to follow his gaze.

“Y/N?” Jesper called, prompting you into as much of a sprint as you could manage across the crowded floor of the gambling hall. You vaulted yourself into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his lanky frame. “You’re back! How?” He exclaimed, and you laughed as you felt him hug you back and sweep you off of your feet.

“I had a meeting to call a truce. As of tonight I am a free person!”

“We missed you so much!” Nina grinned, prying Jesper’s arms off of you so that she could pull into a hug herself. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were finally coming out of hiding?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You grinned, pulling away so that you could move to hug Wylan next. “I missed you guys so much too, you have no idea.” You caught sight of Kaz over Wylan’s shoulder, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. You pointed your smile at him and his lips twitched upwards before he cooled his expression and gave you a simple nod.

Your reunion was spirited to say the least, even Matthias couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you were back. You made them tell you about all of the most significant things that you had missed in the year that you had been trapped inside and update you on any power shifts between the Barrel gangs. Jesper wouldn’t shut up, Wylan was excited to tell you about all of the new explosives and weapons that he had developed, and Nina was making a list of places that she wanted to get lunch together to make up for lost time. It felt amazing to be with them all again.

“Okay! I want to play a few hands of Three Man Bramble before I go.” You announced, pushing your glass away from you after downing the last of its contents.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Jesper grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder and guiding you to a table.

It seemed apt that fortune seemed to be in your favour, winning so consistently that you continued to play even though you knew that you shouldn’t. It felt like every time that you looked up from the table you caught Kaz watching you, and his unashamed gaze made your heart flutter.

After a while you saw him give a slight nod towards the door, an action that meant that it was time to go, and you tucked you lip between you teeth as you gave a subtle nod back and turned your attention back to your cards.

“Unbelievable!” Jesper exclaimed upon seeing that you had won again. “I guess you’re catching up on a year’s worth of luck.”

“Perhaps, but I’m going to quit while I’m ahead.” You smiled, gathering up your winnings. “I need to go and breathe some more fresh air.” You pocketed half of your winnings and pushed the other half around the table to Jesper. “Not too much fun.”

“There’s no such thing as too much fun.” He beamed and pulled you to him so that he could plant a kiss on your cheek. “Good to have you back, Y/N.”

“Good to be back, Jes.” You winked before bounding back to the bar to say goodbye to the rest of your friends. Kaz had already disappeared, no doubt in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to the fact that you were leaving together.

“We’re going to get waffles tomorrow. I will break your door down if I have to.” Nina asserted, practically crushing your ribs in a hug. “Inej, you’re coming too.”

“What about me?” Wylan pouted, and you laughed.

“Everyone’s invited.” You replied, holding his face and turning it towards you so that you could press a soft kiss on his forehead before pulling him in for a hug. “I just got out, I want to spend time with you all!”

You kept your hug with Inej pretty short, considerate of the bad feelings that too much contact could stir up in her, and even managed to coax a hug from Matthias before you headed out. Kaz was waiting not far from the entrance and you smiled as you quickly made your way towards him

“Hey.” You chirped.

“You wanted it to be a surprise, huh?” He questioned, starting towards the Slat. You chuckled.

“I know you’re not a big fan of surprises, Kaz, but I thought this might be a fun one. Why? Were you offended that I told Inej and not you?”

“Did you have anyone go with you to your meeting?”

“No, I didn’t need any backup.”

“Things could have gone badly, and you didn’t tell anyone about it.”

“Well things didn’t go badly.” You rebutted. “I’m here, I’m fine, and I surprised you all.”

“You shouldn’t put yourself in danger like that.” Kaz said flatly, ignoring your point, and you groaned loudly at his stubbornness.

“If it makes you feel better, I made sure to drop your name in to intimidate them. But I can handle my own business.”

You hopped along the cobblestones playfully, irrationally happy to be back out on the filthy and foul smelling streets of the Barrel, but even the stink couldn’t dampen your joy at finally being free. You were sure that you and Kaz probably looked like a bizarre pair walking together now, him with his stoic exterior and identifying limp next to your childlike joy, though you had taken after him fashion wise with your smart attire and well-fitted, black coat.

Walking back to the Slat with Kaz took you in the opposite direction to your home – now that you were out of hiding you could finally return to where you actually lived in a house on the boundary of East Stave and the Zelver District – but you wanted to talk to Kaz, and he wouldn’t have asked you to leave with him if he didn’t want to talk to you too. Nevertheless, you continued the rest of the walk in silence.

When you got to the Slat, Kaz continued straight up to his room while you lingered on the ground floor to say hello to some of the Dregs that you were more friendly with. The noise of the Slat was unfamiliar to you after so long, but you had kind of missed the rowdiness of it.

You followed upstairs shortly after. Kaz had left his door ajar for you and you could see him sat at his desk through the opening.

“Shut the door behind you.” He said as you slipped inside, and you heard the door click as you push it shut after yourself.

“You wanna talk to me?” You questioned, walking over to lean on the side of the desk casually. “Or did you just want some time to look at my gorgeous face?” He did look up at you then, his eyes darting around to take in the entirety of your face, and you felt your heart flutter.

“How did your meeting go? What deals did you make?” He asked. You sighed. It wasn’t new that Kaz was asking about your business, he liked to know about what you were doing the same way that he liked to know about literally everything else, but you had hoped that this conversation would be a little less mundane than that. You had hoped that he might express an iota of joy that you were back.

“I can’t dock my ships in 3rd Harbour anymore.” You shrugged. “So I’ll stick to 2nd for imports going into the morning market, mostly 5th for everything else. There’s a few streets that I need to keep my business off of, and obviously I can’t try and undermine their operations anymore. That doesn’t mean that I won’t, it just means that I’ll be smarter about not getting caught.”

“And what do you get from them?”

“They leave me alone. I don’t need more than that. I mean, their terms are hardly going to impede my business anyway.”

“And your insurance?”

“You.” You smiled sweetly. “Very few people are bold enough to cross someone that has Kaz Brekker on side.”

“I thought you prided yourself on running an honest business.”

“I do. My association with you doesn’t make my business any less legit. I’m more honest than most of the Merchant Council anyway.”

“That’s fair.” He conceded with a slight nod.

Kaz had visited you a few times since the night that you had both let on about how much you cared about each other, but you hadn’t talked about it. It felt like the tension between you had been building and building like an elastic band ready to snap. It was driving you crazy.

“Anything else that you want to talk about?” You hinted. Kaz let out a long breath, his eyes sliding away from you for a moment. You could tell that he wanted to talk about it but he was struggling to get it out. “Because you haven’t told me that you’re glad I’m back yet.”

“I am glad that you’re back.” He affirmed, then he took a hard swallow. “We all missed you.” You smiled brightly at that.

You could hear the crows moving around on the half-roof outside of Kaz’s window and crossed the room to perch on the windowsill. There hadn’t been anywhere for the birds to land in the apartment that you had been cooped up in.

“Can I stay here for a while? I don’t want to be alone again just yet.” You said softly, tucking one knee up against your chest as you watched the birds through the glass.

“Sure.” Kaz answered.

You sat in silence for a while after that, which wasn’t unusual for you two. Before you had gone into hiding, you had spent many evenings with Kaz in his office just like this. Tonight felt different though. Something had opened between the two of you and now you couldn’t close it. The feeling permeated every corner of the room until you felt like you might explode if you didn’t break this silence, but, to your surprise, Kaz spoke first.

“I’ve been thinking about that day that I saw you outside the Crow Club.”

“Why?” You asked, blinking in surprise. Kaz was still facing forward at his desk, back turned to you, but his pen had stilled over the page.

“I watched you for a while, deciding whether to chase you off or recruit you for the Dregs.” He continued, ignoring your question. You were used to that too. “You were good at pickpocketing – you could spot a good mark, distracted them by pretending to beg for pennies – but you stayed in one place for too long.”

“I know, you told me at the time.” You smiled amusedly.

“I was just planning on telling you exactly that, but after I got your attention and you looked at me I knew that I had seen you before. It was in your eyes.” He turned around to look at you then, his gaze finding yours immediately. “Your eyes never changed.”

Kaz’s eyes had. Maybe that was why you hadn’t recognised him. Kaz Rietveld had eyes full of wonder and warmth, that were curious about everything and shone when he was happy. Kaz Brekker's eyes were cold, they held secrets. The curiosity had become analytical, and the shine had turned into a devious glint. Kaz Rietveld didn’t exist anymore, the R tattoo on Kaz’s bicep was the only relic of him, and you were the only one left to remember him.

“Crows remember the faces of those that are kind.” He finished softly.

“And that’s why you took me in? Because I was kind?”

“Because we were friends. We are friends.”

“Just friends?” You murmured, a challenge in your eyes. It wasn’t a provoking challenge, more of an encouraging one. You wanted to know where he stood and you wanted him to be able to tell you. He was silent for a long stretch.

“Would we ever be able to be more?” He asked. You knew what he meant. Kaz had built up so many walls that he didn’t know how to let down, and he knew that about himself. It was how he had survived, but it was a way of being that wasn’t very conducive to relationships. He didn’t think that he could do it.

“That depends on you.” You answered with a soft smile. “Because I’m not looking anywhere else.” Kaz swallowed and looked away quickly, but you swore that you had seen a hint of a blush in his cheeks.

A knock came at the door, and you cursed whoever was on the other side in your head.

“What is it?” Kaz called.

“There’s a man downstairs says he has a job for you.” Specht’s voice came through the wood. “Won’t talk to no one else but you.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Kaz replied, then muttered something under his breath bitterly. You heard the creak of Specht's retreating footsteps and Kaz turned to you. “Will you wait until I get back?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You watched Kaz leave the room and let out a long sigh once the door had closed behind him. You were finally talking about whatever it was that was between the two of you and you just had to get interrupted.

You shed your coat, dropping it lazily on the floor next to you, and rolled up your shirt sleeves. Despite the pressure put on you from some members of the Dregs, you had never gotten the crow and cup tattoo on your forearm. You had known from the start that you didn’t want to belong to the gang, no matter how thankful you were for the help that Kaz had given you.

When you had realised who it really was that had approached you that night outside the Crow Club, you had been shocked. He knew your name when he spoke to you, though he had seemed unsure of it, and you had furrowed your brow and asked if you knew him.

“It’s Kaz.” He had said, and you had blinked.

“Kaz Rietveld?” You had whispered in disbelief. His jaw had clenched, his shoulders stiffened.

“That’s not my name anymore.” He snapped. “It’s Kaz Brekker now.”

When you asked him why he had changed his name he had simply told you that it was easier that way. When you asked him about why he was in Ketterdam he had answered that his father had died and they had sold the farm. When you asked about Jodie he didn’t answer.

He had walked you to the Slat, told you not to talk to anyone, and brought you up to this very room. You had trusted him enough to follow. Despite his proud presence in the Barrel, despite the fact that he was walking you into the den of a gang, despite the fact that he was almost unrecognisable from the Kaz that you knew as a child, you had trusted him. And in the years that followed, he had never broken that trust.

He had helped you pay for the first boarding house that you purchased, come with you to the bank when you took out the loan to buy your first ship, had come to the harbour to see you off the first time that you had gone to Ravka.

Kaz had once reminded you of something from your childhood while around the other Crows, and once it had slipped that you and Kaz had been friends when you were young, people were constantly asking you about what he had been like. He never told anybody anything about himself and people had been eager to find a source of information on him, but most people had quickly come to realise that you weren’t going to say anything either. Kaz had never thanked you for your discretion, but you knew that he was glad for it.

If you were honest with yourself, you had found yourself drawn to him ever since you got your first glimpse through his cold and uncaring exterior and saw his loyal and protective nature. The pull had only grown since.

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of the door opening, and you looked over to watch Kaz enter. The door clicked shut behind him and he moved to the wash basin directly across the room from the window that you were sat in, set down his cane and pulled off his gloves .

“A good job?” You asked. He shrugged.

“A job that I’ll do.” He answered and began unbuttoning his shirt. You tried not ogle as he pulled it off and picked up the washcloth from the basin, but you caught sight of a reddened stripe of raised skin across his side and furrowed your brows.

“When did that happen?”

“A few days ago.”

“How deep did it go?”

“Not too deep.”

“It doesn’t look like you stitched it up properly.”

“It’s fine.” He dismissed. You rolled your eyes and got up from the window ledge. Kaz never took proper care of himself but he was always too stubborn to admit it.

“Let me see.”

“I said it’s fine, Y/N-"

“Kaz.” You interrupted sternly, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I said let me see.” He held your gaze for a moment before letting out a huff and raising his arm so that you could get a better view of the wound.

You kept your distance as you looked over the injury, but you could clearly see that the stitches were sloppy on the end of the gash towards his back; the side that he couldn’t reach easily himself.

“You’re keeping it clean?”

“I know how to treat a wound.” He grumbled.

“I know that you know how, that doesn’t mean that I actually trust you to do it. You didn’t even have it bandaged or anything, what if it gets infected?”

“It won’t, Y/N, stop worrying so much.”

“Well, if you’re not going to worry about yourself then somebody else has to.” You exasperated. “At least bandage it.” You didn’t wait for a reply before you crossed over to the cabinet where he kept his impressive stock of medical supplies and grabbed a roll of gauze. Kaz caught it grudgingly when you tossed it to him and set it to the side while he finished washing his torso.

“You worry too much.” He muttered.

“It’s good for you.” You smiled.

You watched him as he unrolled the gauze and wrapped it around his body, carefully laying it over the wound with pale fingers that you rarely saw. He was precise, but he couldn’t see his back and the bandage twisted as he moved it between his hands.

“It’s folded.” You told him softly, taking half a step towards him. “I can fix it... if you want.” There was a beat of silence before Kaz nodded slightly.

You moved towards him slowly and reached for him even slower, your eyes constantly flicking back to the mirror to gauge the reaction on Kaz’s face. Your fingertips barely brushed over his back as you unfolded the downturned piece of bandage and you immediately stepped away when you were done. It took no more than a few seconds, but you could hear Kaz’s short breaths and when you looked at him in the mirror you could see that he had paled.

You picked up the clean shirt that was laid on his bed and held it out to him at full arms length. His hand shook as he took it from you. He pulled it on quickly, making short work of the buttons, and pulled his gloves back on hastily.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, though you weren’t exactly sure what you were apologising for.

“It’s because of Jordie.” Kaz’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, his eyes trained on his shoes. “Why I can’t touch anyone. It’s because when he died...”

“You don’t have to tell me, Kaz.” You said softly when he trailed off. He shook his head slightly and cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds.

“When Jordie died, I was sick too. It was the Queen's Lady plague. One night, I fell asleep in an alley and woke up on the Reaper's Barge.” He swallowed thickly, wringing his hands together thoughtlessly, and you could see sweat forming on his brow. “When my fever broke, I had to swim back to the harbour, and Jordie... whenever someone touches me, all I can feel is those corpses.”

Silence hung between you as you tried to find the words to respond. It was a lot of information to take in, but suddenly things made sense. Now you understood why Kaz had become the way that he was; why he was prone to shutting people out, why the light behind his eyes had dimmed.

“Kaz, I... I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay.” He muttered. “I have work to do. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” He crossed the room to sit down at his desk, his movements tense. You watched him for a minute, unsure of what to do. It felt wrong to leave him alone right now, but you didn’t know if he would want you to stay.

“I’m sailing to Novyi Zem next week.” You said. It was the first topic that you could think of. “I’d really appreciate it if you could look over the rent ledgers while I’m gone.”

“Sure.” He replied flatly. Silence again.

“Will you come with us all to get waffles tomorrow?”

“I have work to do, and Nina didn’t invite me anyway.”

“Yeah, well, the celebration is for me and I’d really like for you to be there.” You smiled slightly. “She probably didn’t invite you because she knew you’d say no.”

“Smart of her.” Kaz responded, and you let out a frustrated huff.

“Don’t do that, Kaz. Don’t shut me out.” You complained. He didn’t answer at all. You folded your arms over your chest and went to stand beside his chair. “I don’t care that you can’t touch people, it doesn’t bother me. You went through trauma and that’s not your fault. What is bothering me is that you’re choosing to stay closed off to everyone. You can’t keep your walls up forever, you’ll kill yourself trying.”

“I can’t handle it, Y/N.” He snapped, his voice low. The gravel in his voice might have intimidated you into backing off if you weren’t so adamant on getting through to him.

“You’ll never be able to handle it if you don’t start trying.” You insisted. “Maybe if you’d just admit to yourself that you care about people it wouldn’t be so hard to see that we care about you too.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tightly, and released a long breath. You watched him, waiting for a response, not backing down. After a moment of silence, he glanced up at you.

“I can’t need anyone.” He said slowly. “Not after Jordie. I can’t let myself need anyone else.”

“You don’t have to need me, Kaz. You just have to want me.” You replied softly. His head snapped towards you and you actually saw his pupils dilate for the few seconds that he held your gaze before quickly turning away again. You hadn’t meant it like that, but you weren’t upset that he’d heard it that way.

“I don’t deserve you.” He muttered. You leaned against his desk, a sympathetic smile on your face even though he wasn’t looking at you.

“I’ve been around this long, I’m not going anywhere.” You promised. “There’s more to love about you than you think.”

Kaz tapped on his desk with a finger, a nervous action that he would usually suppress. Then, he took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.

“Okay.” He breathed. “I can try.” You bit down on your tongue in an attempt to suppress your grin, but you couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face.

“That’s all I ask.” You lilted. You stood up straight, pushing off of the desk and starting across the room to the window. You rolled your shirt sleeves down and snatched your coat up from the floor. “I’m going to head home. I expect to see you at my door promptly at eleven bells tomorrow morning, ready to get waffles.”

“Alright.” He nodded, breathing a single light laugh.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“Here, Y/N, these are for you.” He said quickly, picking up and couple of envelopes from his desk and holding them up for you. “You’ll have to make sure to notify your business partners of your change in mailing address.” You chuckled, going to take the letters from him, and he gave a small smirk as he handed them over.

“Thank you.” You smiled, before turning and heading to the door. “Eleven bells, Brekker. I know you’re a punctual man.”

“I’ll be there.” He affirmed. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Kaz.” You echoed softly before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind you, a fond smile on your lips.

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #crooked kingdom

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beskar-cowboy · 3 years

Text

Stolen Goods

Part 1 of the Nowhere Girl Series

Summary: The Mandalorian is sent to capture you, he finds the task more complicated than expected. Maybe you two can help each other out. (9.4k words) read on ao3 here

Pairing: The Mandalorian x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, slightly dub-con for a moment but they both want it i promise, smut, canon typical violence, enemies to lovers, blood, hurt/comfort, a dislocated shoulder, PIV sex, rough sex, dirty talk OBVIOUSLY, major praise kink, fingering, age difference (not specified), me making a bunch of shit up, this takes place right before Episode 1 so no baby

A/N - this was supposed to be really rough hate fucking with Mando but it just turned into him endlessly praising you…. idk what happened but enjoy <3

The Mandalorian is pissed.

He’s worked with Karga for a while now, known him for years. He knows sometimes things get quiet, that there’s slim pickings for the more than eager bounty hunters who will pick up anything and anyone - just like him - for desperate credits.

But this? This was a new low. Even for Karga.

Up and coming Coruscant senator, Karga had informed the Mandalorian, she’s on the run from the Imps.

Mando had rolled his eyes underneath his helmet as he was filled in on details of the only puck Karga had for him. Ridiculous, sounded like a babysitting gig.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that look.” Karga huffed, rolling his own eyes at the emotionless beskar helmet.

The Mandalorian said nothing.

“Look, it’s a job, you want it or not?”

A waste of his fucking time was what it was.

Karga huffed again and removed the puck from the tabe but Mando was faster, his gloved hand slamming it back down and gripping it into his palm.

“This is all you have?” The Mandalorian pushed, voice weary through the vocoder.

Karga nodded solemnly. Mando tilted his helmet at the Guild leader, annoyed and unimpressed.

The man scoffed, he seemed amused, “Think she’ll be easy?”

“A kid who’s runaway from home… I’m not a babysitting service-”

“No one’s been able to track her down. I’ve got multiple pucks on her and no one’s come back for months. I’m running low on bounty hunters.” Karga nearly chuckled.

The Mandalorian felt his adrenaline spike. He needed a challenge, it wasn’t a hunt if it wasn’t a challenge.

“She’s no easy feat, Mando. She’s wanted for armed robbery, embezzelment and suspected murder. She’s a slippery one” He sighed, running a hand down his face in astonishment, a devilish smirk pulling at his lips, like he couldn’t help but be impressed.

Now that’s what piqued Mando’s interest.

You’re dangerous. It’s always more fun when they’re dangerous. It’s more of a challenge, it’s more rewarding.

The Mandalorian had been craving a challenge. Meaningless bounty after the other, cowards, pathetic con men, easy takedowns. All of it, it was becoming mind numbing.

He missed the tracking, the spying, the surveying, the chase.

The Mandalorian is pissed.

And that’s how he found himself here - fuming, chasing after some kid, the tracking fob lead him all the way to you.

You’re on Sriluur, one of the most grimy, crime infested planets in the system. Seems like a pretty obvious place to look, almost too obvious.

What would a wanted bounty be doing herer? Then again, nearly everyone on this forsaken planet is probably a wanted bounty somewhere, by someone.

Maybe this is a very calculated move, hiding out amongst a never ending crowd of lowlifes and criminals, you just blend in, become faceless in a way.

But you, you couldn’t be more obvious even if you tried.

Mando finds you in a cantina: grimy, dingy, damp and dark. He’s confused, to say the least. You…. you don’t belong here.

There’s no way that you’re the one he’s chasing, the one he’s hunting, the one accused of robbery, embezzelment, suspected murder, on the run from the fucking Imps. The tracking fob went berserk when it landed on you, he had thought it was broken because there was no way it was you.

A runaway from Coruscant, an up and coming senator.

That all makes sense now that Mando’s looking at you. You fit the part, you’re clearly young, beautiful, fucking beautiful - Mando stays on that thought for a while, trying to make sense of it, make sense of you.

Why are you doing this? What do you have to gain, what are you running from?

You stand out from everyone here on this fucking planet, you’re a light amongst black holes, how do you not immediatetly make yourself a target?

He watches you for the most part of the afternoon from a dark corner of the cantina. He wonders what, or who, you’re waiting for. You’re armed - heavily armed for someone your size - like Karga said you’d be. Two blasters and some sort of rifle slung over one of your shoulders, three daggers and a vibroblade stashed in your jacket, all probably stolen, Mando decides.

Your eyes shine bright like suns, like jewels, glossy even in the low light of the cantina, they shine with something Mando knows too well: some sort of emptiness, bitterness, the need for something no one will give you, something you have to take yourself.

Two men step into the bar, they spot you before you spot them, Mando clocks. His heart rate picks up and he keeps his hand over his blaster, watching you, watching them. They sit themselves down at a table across the cantina from you.

The air shifts, it becomes too quiet and heavy with unsaid potential and Mando can’t be the one to move first, he’ll ruin whatever it is that’s building right now.

A blaster goes off.

One of the men falls face first onto the table he’s sat at - shot through the stomach, a singeing red, burning hole left on his lower half from underneath the table.

Things seem to move in slow motion: you rise from your corner, blaster outstretched towards the now lone man, him rushing towards the back entrance. Mando follows behind you as you chase after the man, shouting out at him, shouting out a name, one Mando doesn’t recognize and he feels so out of place.

He stays near the doorway, watching as you corral the man out in the alleyway, in plain daylight and hold him at gunpoint.

The good thing about being on a planet like Sriluur is that no one bats an eye at street violence, no one’s going to snitch on a good alley fight.

You cuff him almost too easily, knocking him to the ground with an easy kick of the leg. You’re good, clean and swift - Mando guesses you have to be since you’ve been on the run for so long.

It also doesn’t hurt that you’re stupidly pretty, he can’t help but think.

“Where’s the loading dock?” You interrogate the man, blaster pressed to the back of his head as your boot stomps him into the ground, hands cuffed behind his back.

Your voice goes straight to Mando’s belly igniting something akin to a volcanic eruption or a swarm of butterflies - which one, he’s not sure but fuck did you sound sweet. To sweet to be so fucking fierce.

“Y-You won’t reach it before the shipment.” The man groans, face grimaced in pain as you press into his back harder, jamming the nozzle of the blaster into his neck.

“Where is it?” You grit from behind clenched teeth, cocking the gun. The man quivers, lip trembling as he tries to wriggle out of your grip but you’ve got him right where you want him.

“Out- out west! Past the badlands, into the desert but you won’t make it on foot-”

Like an idiot, Mando’s tracking fob slips from his pocket and both the man and you snap your heads in his direction, like he interrupted some sort of performance.

Your eyes land on the tracking fob before Mando can say anything, your blaster goes off and the man’s head thuds against the ground, dark syrupy blood pouring out from the back of his skull.

You got what you needed, so you make a run for it.

The Mandalorian calls after you but you bolt quickly down the alleyway, making as many sharp turns as possible to throw him off. You run with no particular direction, no set route in mind. You’ll head west once you’re sure he’s gone but you have to lose him first.

A Mandalorian, you can’t believe they sent a fucking Mandalorian after you.

You whiz down the streets of the criminal planet, pushing past vendors, scammers and junkies alike, trying to lose yourself in the crowd. You’re quite good at it actually, making a run for it, losing a hunter, but he’s got a tracking fob. That’ll be a challenge.

Glancing behind you, you see no shiny helmet bouncing through the crowd, you don’t want to be so bold to assume you’ve already lost him so you keep running. You decide to run towards your speeder, if you can’t out run him you can definitely gain some distance between the two of you this way.

Looking around you, you situate yourself, trying to figure out which way to run in order to make it to your speeder as quickly as possible and out run the fucking Mandalorian.

It must be a few blocks down, you run further south into the downtown area, knowing you hid it in an alleyway near a picked over fruit stand.

You’re close, you’re so close to your bike, just a few more blocks.

You round another corner, searching your pockets for your keys and that’s when he smashes into you, knocking you to the ground.

Pain radiates through your body from the impact of unforgiving beskar, your ears ring and your eyes go blurry.

You reach for your vibroblade, managing to knock his helmet with your elbow in the process. The Mandalorian goes down and you roll yourself over, trying to disarm him only to find that he holds neither a blaster nor cuffs.

What?

Was he not after you? Was he not just hunting you down?

Your lapse of confusion breaks your concentration and he manages to pin you down, rolling you over and pinning your hands above your head as he sits himself on your chest. The wind is nearly knocked out of you as he crushes you into the dirt with his weight, stars fog your vision as a headache sets in, ears possibly bleeding. You feel like you’ve been hit with a gong.

“W-Who sent you?” You try to ask, voice fuzzy as your head pounds. You can barely focus on him, on the intimidating T shape of his visor as he pears down at you from above.

You should be terrified, you should be trying to push him off of you but you don’t feel threatened. He’s unarmed. You're still trying to figure out why.

Mando has a moment to take you in now, realizing that Karga was right; you really are young. Not that young just, younger than him and sparkling in the daylight where he can see all of you now.

Your face, your eyes, perfect eyebrows, a scar on your cheek that Mando finds himself wanting to touch. You’re pretty and... dirty. Gritty. Like you coated yourself in something in order to fit in better amongst the scum here.

“Doesn’t matter.” He grunts, easy up his hold on you once he realizes he’s practically smothering you.

You groan, eyes squinting, the sun suddenly seeming harsher now, hurting your eyes. Your vision slowly comes back, things aren't as blurry and you’re overwhelmed by how close he is.

“Why are you doing this?” The Mandalorian asks.

You don’t know what he means by ‘this’, so you grunt and push him off of you, he lets you, rolling off to the side. You’re dizzy as you stand up, trying to find your footing and shooting the Mandalorian and more than confused glare. What the fuck is he trying to pull right now?

You both know he’s here for you, he’s literally got your tracking fob beeping on his holster.

But he’s not cuffing you, he’s not threatening you. You’re both just… starring. At each other.

Maybe it’s a moment of recognition, acknowledging whatever it is that’s going on here. He’s after you, but he’s… not? You should be the one asking questions.

You let your hand slide up over your shoulder, reaching for your rifle but you’re stopped short by a flashing bright pain in your shoulder. You wince, hissing and bringing your arm back down to your side.

You give the Mandalorian a daggering glare before you turn to inspect your bike, checking to make sure nothing’s been stolen from your satchel which you stupidly left slung over the back while you were in the cantina.

Fuck, he really had slammed into you, hadn’t he? He came at you full speed, knocking you down to the ground with his entire body weight and then fucking sitting on you, like an idiot. He hadn’t necessarily meant to do that, he’s not quite sure why he feels so bad but, he does.

“Why are you running away from Coruscant?” He presses and you roll your eyes, even though your back is turned on him now, trying to ignore the late onset pain searing through your shoulder.

You stay silent, just focusing on making sure everything’s in your bag so that you can head out to the -

“What loading dock are you looking for?”

You whip around towards the Mandalorian, hand on your smaller blaster, prepared to pull it on him.

“What do you know about the loading dock?” You seethe.

The Mandalorian keeps a steady watch on your hand, twitching over your blaster. He raises his hands in surrender. Maker, you’re jumpy.

“Nothing more than you do.”

You fling your blaster from your holster, finger on the safety trigger and aim it at the heavily armoured Mandalorian.

You mentally curse yourself, how ironic would it be if your blaster fire ricocheted off of his arm and came back at you.

Better have good aim then. You flick it over that spot near his belly, where the armour separates. Maybe you should shoot him in the arm, get him back for what feels like a dislocated shoulder.

Even Mando can notice how your arm hangs heavy by your side, how you hold back from moving it too much, your balance nearly thrown off due to the now useless limb. That needs to be popped back into place.

“Who are you?” You seethe, trying to get him to focus, take you seriously.

“I just want to help.” He speaks softly, voice coming out low from his vocoder. Maybe it would sound nicer if you weren’t on the verge of shooting him.

You roll your eyes, switching off your safety and cocking your blaster. “Better think of something fast, shiny.”

“I can help you get there. I-I can help you reach the dock.”

That piques your interest. Fine, you’ll humor him.

“I’m fine with my speeder-”

“It’s broken.”

What?

You squint in the Mandalorian’s direction, not quite believing him and not wanting to take your eyes off of him to inspect your speeder.

“How do you know it's broken?”

The Mandalorian can’t help but grin underneath his helmet. You take his silence as your answer and you growl something incoherent, chucking your blaster onto the dirt and turning around to inspect your bike.

Mando had managed to track your speeder down before he found you in the cantina. He saw you pull up on it and followed your dark figure into the city before he even got a good look at you, just trusting the fob.

He took out your engine, destroyed it, you see pieces of it now scattered amongst the alley. You kick the now useless speeder, much like your useless arm. Was he trying to take you down slowly? Break you apart piece by piece like a slow and easy kill? He’s toying with you.

“I have a ship.” The Mandalorian speaks, breaking the tense silence.

You turn to face him again, he leans against the opposite side of the narrow alley. “What’s in it for you?”

The Mandalorian says nothing, he keeps his visor trained on you but he nervously fiddles with his own fingers.

“What do you gain from helping me? Aren’t I just a bount-”

“I have a feeling I’m after the wrong person.”

Oh?

“Bold of you to assume.” You scoff, nearly laughing at him but you don’t want to waste this opportunity. It’s not everyday you’re offered the services of a Mandalorian. You’re just not sure if you can trust him yet.

“Tell me what you’re after.” He presses again.

You’re reluctant to talk. Opening up isn’t your… speciality, so to say. Especially not with strangers. Especially not strangers who have a fucking tracking fob on you.

Fuck. You don’t see how you have any other options right now. A broken speeder and a useless arm, you realize it’s this guy or nothing.

You groan something frustrated and slightly pained. “Fine. I’ll fill you in on the way, shiny.”

You were born into it, as most people are on Coruscant.

Born to a cold, unforgiving family focused on politics and appearances. You were always going to become a senator or something of the sort, you had informed Mando.

None of the kids had a choice and no one cared to do anything about it, no one cared to change things, help the planets that were being robbed and forgotten about. So you had decided to do something about it.

You broke free a few years ago and have been robbing from the Imperials ever since. They have these fancy, luxurious, expensive getaway houses and cottages all across the galaxy and you follow them like bread crumbs on a trail.

The cottages usually indicate some sort of side business, the Imperials leaving their families to go on a ‘business vacation’ - which really means illegal government shit, obviously.

Planets which house their cottages also house their loading docks, outposts, trading posts, anything that helps them keep the wealth in this incognito backtrade, away from the official systems and taxes, just continuously fueling the 1%.

But you, you’d been stealing from them. You infiltrate the loading docks and outposts, you reroute the goods to the planets and communities that the corrupt government forgets about, like Sorgan, Kashyyyk and Endor to name a few. You make sure they get what they need, what the higher ups try to keep for themselves.

You steal it from them and redistribute it equally, fairly - leaving none for those in Coruscant.

He doesn’t feel sorry for you; you’ve had nothing but privilege your whole life, you chose to leave it, to fight for something. You took it upon yourself to stand up and fight the only life you’ve ever known.

He doesn’t feel sorry for you, but Maker are you good.

You have a purpose, something to fight for, something that drives you every single day. Something you care about. That’s not something a lot of people can say they have, definitely not some criminal on Sriluur, or even a bounty hunter like him.

No wonder the Imps are after you. You’re killing men left and right with such ease it seems. You’re fucking good to have been on the run for this long, to be this successful.

Mando’s just thankful he didn’t turn you into them with what limited information Karga gave him. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.

“Not everyone can be a mindless cog in the machine, one piece breaks loose and the whole thing falls apart.” You explain while you and the Mandalorian trek through the cool, dark and seemingly never ending desert of Sriluur.

You had told him that you couldn’t fly too close to the loading dock. They’re armed, they have men on the lookout, radars searching for ships flying overhead. You had said they would see you coming from a mile away, way before you would even see them.

So Mando landed the ship quite a distance aways, just outside of the Badlands. You would have to walk the rest of the way, through the night so that you make it there in the early morning.

“I realized it was either going to be me or someone else who was going to have to make the first move, and I was tired of waiting for something to happen so I just… I just ran.” You shrug, as best as you can with your fucked up shoulder but you wince at the dull pain.

You’d been walking for hours now, and your arm was only hurting more and more. Mando would have to do something before you reached the dock, there was no way you’d be able to fight, or even shoot, in this condition.

“Let me look at yo-” The Mandalorian reaches out to you but you jerk away from him, grimacing again at the dull pain which radiates throughout the heavy limb.

“I’m fine.” You groan, supporting your arm with your other one, trying to hold up the dead weight.

“You’re not.”

You groan. He’s right, you know it. You know he is but you don’t want to go through with having a stranger pop your arm back into place.

Weighing your options, you come up on a dead desert tree and you quickly lean your weight on the dead and hollow bark, trying to calm yourself down and breathe through your nose.

“I can help.” He offers, hands twitching near his sides.

You glare at him, look him up and down as he slowly approaches you. You say nothing, he takes this as confirmation.

Gently, the Mandalorian takes your forearm into his gloved hands, taking some of the dead weight for you and you sigh a bit at the relief.

“You ever done this before?” You ask, trying to make small talk and distract from the way he’s touching you so preciously, how close he’s standing to you. Whatever, whatever, whatever, this is totally fine.

“Nope.” Great.

Mando can see the fear in your eyes, the fear of the sudden pain that’ll come with snapping your arm back into its socket, the fear that he might fuck it up. He knows you don’t trust him, he knows you’re letting your guard down for this, to let him help you. He thinks you’re brave for that.

So he takes off his gloves.

And you watch in a mix of amazement and shock at the tanned and calloused skin which is slowly revealed to you. “H-Hey isn’t that not allow-”

“Shut up.” The Mandalorian grunts, voice deep and gravely and regrettably making your stomach flutter. You swallow your protests and let him do what he needs to do.

He inspects your arm and you let him, somewhat losing yourself to the touch of another, skin on skin - his warm and weathered hands on your hot flesh. It feels good, a nice contrast to how he body slammed you earlier today.

The Mandalorian sighs. “Mando.”

“What?”

“My name, call me Mando.” He tells you, visor trained heavily on you, gauging your every reaction.

“O-Okay.” You gulp, unable to look away from the pitch black, intimidating T of his visor. You didn’t realize how close he was to you, you think you can hear him breathing under that helmet of his.

“Let me hear you say it.” His hands wrap around your bicep, testing the muscle it seems and your face burns at his tone, how deep his voice has gotten.

“M-MandOH!” He jerks your arm upwards right as you say his name and he watches your face twist in pain. That fucker. He was trying to distract you and it worked.

“Okay, okay- is it in?” You ask as a sweat breaks out on your hairline from the pain, your body quickly overheating as you breathe heavily.

“No.” Mando answers. You’re about to go off on him when he continues, “Y-You’ll have to take your shirt off… I can’t see the muscles like this.”

“You’re kidding me.” You groan, eyes closing tight as you try to calm yourself down, your mind growing heavy.

You can’t believe this is fucking happening, this day is not going at all how you planned. Regardless, you use your still intact arm to reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your torso as much as you can before the pain from your other arm stops you with a pained moan.

“Here-”

Mando moves closer and nearly pins you to the tree, grabbing the hem of your shirt into his hand and gently pulling it the rest of the way, careful to remove it from your injured arm before he tosses it over his shoulder so it doesn’t get covered in sand.

Mando doesn’t look - he swears he doesn’t…. Until he does.

His burnt red breast plate is nearly grazing against your chest, barely covered by the thin material of your bra.

Your chest heaves with pain laced breaths, your body trying to regulate something to get anything under control again. The curves of your breasts shine with sweat, you glimmer in the moonlight and Mando finds himself wanting more and more to put you at ease, to lick you, taste you, clean you of your sweat with his own tongue - you pretty, young thing.

His head is getting foggy, he needs to focus on the task at hand but that isn’t so easy when the task is you.

Mando looks up to find your eyes growing heavy, your body growing tired with exertion and going numb to the pain.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Mando reassures, the hand which isn’t supporting your arm coming up to hold your jaw, hold your head up, thumb caressing your cheek. You smile groggily.

“Y-You’re… you’re fault.”

Yeah, he knows that. He could have looked where he was going and not have rammed you into the ground and this whole ordeal could have been avoided.

“I know. I… I’m sorry. We’re almost done.” You take it he doesn’t apologize often and you giggle dopily.

Your eyes droop and Mando gets nervous. He taps your cheek a few times, your skin hot to the touch and it worries him.

“Okay eyes on me, pretty girl.” You hum something content, trying to wiggle your body closer to his but he holds you tight, keeps you pinned against the tree. That’s hot.

“You called me- called me pretty.”

“Yeah, yeah I did, now keep looking at me, okay” Mando flushes underneath his helmet but he returns his attention to your supple arm, grabbing the fleshy area near your shoulder tight. His touch is so wicked, it burns. You hate it.

“Okay, shiny.”

Mando grabs your shirt off of his shoulder and brings it to your mouth, ordering you to ‘bite’. He shoves it into your mouth, your saliva quickly soaking into the fabric and Mando has to look away from your pretty little mouth.

“It’s going to hurt.” He tells you and you grumble something back to him but it's muffled by the pretty fabric he tucked into your mouth.

Your eyes are nearly glazed over, shiny and heavy and he’s so fucked for thinking about how you’d look just like this if he fucked you until you were numb, rendered dumb and thoughtless at the end of his cock. All fucking shiny, wet and-

You scream as he whips your shoulder bone back into its socket.

Tears slip past your eyes and drool spills from between your lips and into your shirt. The skin of your arm is hot to the touch but it’s there, it's back in place. Mando did it.

He lets you cry, lets you fall forward into him and sob into his cowl. Mando holds you against him and gently rubs the muscle of your shoulder through your flesh, making sure everything is okay and in the right place. You twitch in his hold, trying to get away from his touch by retreating back further into him. It makes his cock twitch.

Mando shushes you, massaging up and down your arm as you shiver in his hold, overcome with adrenaline and exertion. You feel completely wiped out from the pain alone but your body jitters with energy.

“T-Thanks.” You tremble, voice exhausted but it seems like your senses are already coming back to you.

You pull away from Mando and take your shirt into your hands again, carefully shrugging it back on and ignoring the giant wet spot from your own spit. That was fucking humiliating.

Mando doesn’t respond, he just nods and watches as you cover yourself back up again. He already misses the fleshy warmth of your body against his hard and cold one.

You breathe a bit heavily, still winded from everything that’s just happened: your arm being snapped back into place, how close Mando was to you, how he touched you, manipulated your body so easily.

He called you pretty.

You mentally scoff at yourself, so fucking what?

You try not to care, you try to move on from that, but you tuck it away first; the way his voice sounded as he tried to soothe you, calm you down. You tuck that away for later, for when you’re alone again after all of this is over.

You grunt as you sling your rifle back over your shoulder, “Let’s keep moving.”

You reach the loading dock as the sun threatens to touch the horizon, the sky only starting to become a lighter shade of blue, signaling the early morning.

The perimeter is easy to breach, you get inside with few casualties. They only seem to have a few men patrolling this early in the morning - their weak spot, so it seems.

Mando willingly helps you and you’re grateful for the second pair of hands, you’re not used to having backup. You usually go in and come out alone. But you welcome this, he makes it too easy, it was already easy enough on your own, save for a few close calls over the years but he makes it easy.

With the two of you, you take them down and make good time of it too. You should be out of here, with the shipment of goods rerouted in under an hour.

And you do.

Everything works: you get the shipment out and you run out of the loading dock without much trouble, escaping blaster fire as you run back off into the desert, towards Mando’s ship.

He covers you, shields you with his armed body as you make a run for it, avoiding the open fire which has begun to rain down upon you. Someone must have sent a distress signal. It doesn’t matter though, the money is off to a deserving planet and you’ve got a Mandalorian shielding you with his own body. You did it.

You’re practically vibrating as you run up the open hull to the ship, losing the Imps and their men through the Badlands. You’re safe, you made it.

Mando closes the ramp before you’re even up all the way and you fall into him. He gives you no time to recover, hauling you further into the ship, dropping you in the copilot seat, setting coordinates to who knows where as the Razor Crest lifts into the air, beaming into hyperspace.

You’re panting, you’re both painting and breathing heavily. You barely notice that he’s up from his seat, crouching below you as he feels you over, squeezing your arms, like he’s trying to make sure you’re okay and you want to push him away for it, push him off of you but you can’t. You can’t.

That was so good. You did it.

“H-How’s your arm?” Mando asks, visor staring through your very being.

You nod your head affirmatively, unable to produce any words right now, staring down at his vacant visor without a thought in your mind except that you did it. You both did it.

Mando’s hand comes up to your face, holding your cheek and the back of your neck gently and it surprises you.

“Come on, words pretty girl. Need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m good, I’m good- promise.” You smile shakily, still reeling with adrenaline, your limbs still shaking.

You’re shocked at his insistence on calling you that. You don’t want to admit it but... you like it. Sort of.

You think Mando chuckles underneath his helmet, the vocoder distorts it but you hear the exhale of breath he lets out, the way his shoulders bounce lightly. He lets his hand trail down to your knee - subtle.

You feel giddy. We did it, you giggle to yourself, unable to contain the burst of energy pulsing through your body.

“You did it.” Mando adds and fuck - did you say that out loud?

“I- no. I mean, you were there, you helped-”

He stops you mid-sentence, voice low, hushed and squeezing your knee tight. “Don’t be so fucking modest.”

You feel hot suddenly. Not just your face, you feel hot all over, your whole body coursing with it - indignation.

Whatever, you scoff, rolling your eyes and shoving at his shoulders. “Shut up, Mando.”

He moves both of his hands, letting them come to grip both of your thighs now and you hate the way it makes your eyelids grow heavy, threatening to roll back into your head if he adds just a bit more pressure.

“You’re difficult, you know that?” He grits even though you know it's not frustration or annoyance coursing through his blood.

You try to move your legs, push him away from you but he’s got you in this vice grip, pawing at you through your clothes.

“Only when I want to be.” Mando chuckles again, he’s amused.

Fuck do his hands feel good, it’s been so long.

“I don’t believe that.” He purrs, voice low and bassey and it goes straight to your cunt, which he’s growing increasingly closer to.

“Y-You don’t know me.”

His hands trail up your thighs, feeling the warmth seep through your pants and through the worn leather of his gloves as he nears the zipper. The helmet tips upwards to meet your completely dazed stare.

Gone is your fierce and biting tongue. You’ve gone quiet, all because of him - this stranger, this Mandalorian, a bounty hunter who has your fucking fob.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I know you’re good.” Mando tells you, fingers dancing up to the seam of your pants. You just stare at him, eyes wide and shining bright with hyperspace in their reflection. Beautiful. “How are you so fucking good?”

You know he’s not really asking, you know it’s a rhetorical question but -

“I’m not good, M-Mando.” You quiver as he rips the zipper down.

You’ve stopped trying to push him away but you’re not encouraging him either, completely frozen in place by the intimidating black visor of his helmet, like some dark angel tempting you with death.

Rushed and hurried, Mando’s shucking down your pants and chucking them somewhere onto the floor of the cockpit. He bites the tips of his gloves, pulling them off and throwing them away just as carelessly.

Mando growls something fierce and terrifying, taking both of your knees in each hand and pulling you down the chair till your ass nearly hangs off the edge, spreading you so wide its fucking embarrasing.

“But you are.” He presses, so certain of this ‘fact’.

Then he’s spreading you again and it’s so lewd and wet. You can feel yourself dripping, making a mess all over yourself and you go hot, embarrassed as you try and look away from the black of his visor that’s intently trained on you and your soaked panties.

“Don’t you wanna prove to me how good you are?”

You can’t help the pathetic whimper that’s released from your throat as you nod your head too eagerly and without thought. He’s got you right in his line of fire, right where he wants you. It’s been too long since you’ve had someone take care of you.

You can’t bear to look at him as he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your panties, pulling them to the side to reveal your glossy cunt to him.

Mando can’t remember the last time he fingered someone’s cunt open to get them ready for him, all of him. He feels dizzy, sees literal star whizzing past him as he parts your lips, watches how your dark hole flutters and seeps for him, all dark and flushed and swollen for him, for his touch. You’re perfect.

Maker, does he want to taste you, to feel you cum on his tongue, on his face, feel how fucking hot you are on his lips but he can’t, he knows he can’t. So he’ll do what he can with his fingers, for now.

Slowly, he takes his index and sinks it into, your walls fluttering to let him in, suffocating the single digit already. Mando curses underneath his breath - you’re so fucking tightt, he can hardly believe it.

You cry out at the sensation, having had nothing but your own fingers for the past few months, one of his felt so much better, thicker and rougher. Tears are already welling in your eyes from the sweet relief.

Mando adds a second, not wanting to waste anymore time and starts scissoring you open for him, curling his fingers against the ridged wall and beckoning you towards him. Your back curls against the copilot seat, your hands flying upwards to grab the headrest of the seat, pressing your tits up and outwards underneath your thin shirt.

Even through your thin bra, Mando can tell your nipples are hard. He thinks about twisting them, biting them, licking at them, at you. Fuck, you’re so sexy.

“Dangerous girl,” Mando praises, growling and unrelenting in his thrusts, “how many men do you think you took out back there? Ten?”

You whine, eyes still squeezed shut, unable to take in the fucking Mandalorian between your legs, fingering your weeping cunt open.

“C-counted fifteen actually.”

Mando chuckles darkly, “Of course you did, show off.”

You laugh too but it’s cut off by a whine as he curls his fingers again, digging them into you and you see stars everywhere.

“Don’t have to- to show off when you're good.” You smirk, trying to give him your best shit-eat grin, finally opening your eyes and looking down at him beneath you like this.

He glows with the light of hyperspace, all the beaming stars reflecting off of his helmet, it nearly takes your breath away. His fingers are shiny with your slick as he drags them in and out of you, you can hear the way you pussy squelches for him, begging for more while you wither wordlessly for him.

“Hmmmm that’s right you - you good fucking girl, you’re such a good girl.”

There’s nothing you could have possibly done to contain the absolute wanton moan that leaves your chest at his sickening praise.

You never did any of this for attention, for praise, to make you feel better about yourself. You just felt it was your duty, to fix inequalities where you see them like those stupid senators claim they do but don’t. You never did it to be congratulated, to be thanked.

But when Mando praises you like this, calls you a good girl - fuck does that feel good.

He picks up the pace, his fingers fucking you open and you could cum just like this if he doesn’t stop soon. He feels it, feels you squeezing his fingers tighter than anything he’s ever felt before and he momentarily worries that he won’t fit, that he won’t be able to ram his cock deep into you but he knows you can take it, knows you’ll suck him in all desperate and wet for it.

Mando wrenches his fingers from you and you nearly scream at him for the sudden emptiness, your body convulsing and panting against the chair. He hasn’t even fucked you yet and you’re already completely debauched. Eyes glassy and skin glistening, you’re beautiful.

He stands to his full height, towering over you and casting you in his shadow. You look up at him through your lashes, chest heaving and legs spread wide, your core wet, shiny and flushed dark with arousal. You’re eye level now with his more than prominent bulge, cock straining against his pants and your mouth drools for it.

“Up, turn around.” He orders deep and low through his vocoder and you can’t scramble fast enough. Mando would chuckle at your desperation, degrade you and slap you around if he wasn’t so fucking desperate for it himself.

You do as he says, facing the other way and clutching the headrest of the set again as you look over your shoulder at him, watching, drooling as he pulls his flushed and heavy cock from his pants. You nearly choke on your breath - he’s huge, red and angry and you’re worried it’ll shred you from the inside out, but you want it - you want it rough, mean, fucking primal and gross. You want him to ruin you a little bit.

You watch him as he knocks your knees further apart on the seat of the chair, opening you up for him. You stick your ass out, wiggling it at him in a desperate presentation and he grumbles something before he’s grabbing handfuls of your flesh into his hands, grabbing you hard and tight and it pinches - you wail something high pitched and pathetic, whining like a bitch for him.

Mando hooks your soaked underwear high on your hips, watching the fabric pull tight against your own skin. He plays with the band, making sure it’s still sufficiently pulled to the side, to let his cock just glide right into you.

Resting your chin on your shoulder, you look back at him from under your lashes as he lines himself up, notching the spongy head of his cock at your entrance and you could cry, you could actually fucking cry you want it so bad. But your tongue isn’t as easily tamed as your body.

“You ever- ever fuck a bounty before, Mando?”

He growls mean and gritty before he’s grabbing you by the hips and sheathing himself all the way to the hilt in your tight cunt, a moan is punched out of you from deep within. He reaches the end of you almost effortlessly - literally pushing the boundaries of your body. You feel him in your stomach, you feel him making room for himself.

“Maybe.” He grunts, blushing furiously underneath his helmet all the while thinking “no”. He’s never done this before. And it shows in how he nearly forgot that you were - still are - his bounty.

He forgets that he tracked you down, hunted you, dislocated your fucking shoulder while chasing you down on a gritty planet. Your pussy made him forget all of that and he’s embarrassed by it. Maker, you could kill him right now if you wanted to and there’s nothing he could do to stop it. He thinks he’d let you.

So he fucks you harder for it, pulls back out until just the tip of him is at your entrance before he’s spearing you in half, breaking you open on his thick cock and fucking you mean, like he’s angry with you.

You try and scoff at his feigned smugness but it comes out as a broken moan, your knuckles going white from how hard you're gripping the headrest trying to gain some stability from his punishing thrusts, the way he pulls you back onto his cock over and over again. “D-Doubt it.”

Mando’s vocoder distorts his voice, or maybe it really has dropped that low but he’s grumbling something animalistic and fucking feral, wrapping his forearm around your shoulders and hauling you back into him - until your back is flush with his rough and cold breastplate.

He holds you tight against him, hips snapping against your ass as you bounce in his hold, the velocity of his thrusts sending you reeling. You feel lost, thrown out into space without a lifeline - all you can do is hold onto his forearm for some semblance of stability as Mando fucks you into oblivion.

The cool metal of his helmet kisses your cheek and you hiss but let him press it against you anyways. You can feel his eyes on you from behind the visor, you know he’s watching every expression, hearing every pathetic little noise he’s pulling from you - a front row seat to your destruction.

“Why are you so- worried about it? Hmm?” He coddles, as if he were talking to a child. It’s condescending and you’re so fucked out of your mind already that you can’t even respond, can’t even bite back at him.

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never had someone reach so deep, spread you so wide, fuck you hard and open like a decimated fruit. It’s perfect - fuck, it’s so good.

“Am I not - shit - am I not fucking you hard enough, pretty girl?”

Mando’s hips grind up into you, shredding your insides and you cry; you feel legitimate tears spring from your eyes as you bend to his will, bend as he molds you to his cock. You let him.

Mando scoffs, or chuckles - you can’t tell. He leans in even closer, you swear you could feel his breath against your face if it weren’t for his stupid helmet digging into the side of your face.

“I know you like it when I call you that, g-get so fucking tight.”

You nod your head fervently, unable to produce any words as your pussy and stomach clench around him, that familiar fire burning so rampantly you feel like you could cum with one more word out of his mouth.

“Tell me.”

“I- I like it.” You barely manage to get out, voice gone and the wind fucked out of you. You have no energy or willpower to be able to speak properly - you’re on the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm.

Mando’s forearm flexes against where he holds your shoulders against his chest, his tanned hand moving to come and wrap around your throat, squeezing tight and angling your back like you would a bow. He fucks you deeper and harder and ruthless at this new angle, like a dagger to your insides - a warning.

“I-I like it when you - fuck! - when you call me p-pretty girl.” You wail, pussy squelching around his length embarrassingly loud as proof of your words, of his power against you. He hums, satisfied.

“Yeah? Yeah, you want it h-harder, pretty girl?” He asks and it's mean. It’s evil this time when he asks you, like he’s making fun of you as you tremble at the end of his cock, tired and wet and fucked out of your mind.

You nod your head pathetically, not caring anymore how desperate you are to cum, you just need him. You need Mando to keep fucking you.

“Yes! Yes, please just- just keep fucking me. D-Do whatever you want.”

Mando’s heart and cock flare at your words, igniting something deep inside him and he’s hauling you around, pulling his sopping cock from your cunt with a disgusting wet pop, your juices leaking all over him, the chair, the durasteel floor.

If he were being any meaner, if you were anyone else, he would have you lick it up, lick yoursef off the fucking floor but - Maker, he can’t think like that right now, he’ll get too light headed and pass out before he’s had a chance to cum.

He picks you up and lifts you onto the ground, laying you on your back less than gracefully before he’s shucking your top off of you along with your bra, leaving you in nothing but your soaked and drenched panties which still sit pulled to the side of your abused pussy.

Fucking look at you, eyes bleary and wet, fucked out of your mind like the rest of you. All shiny and wet with him, and your tits. You’re so pretty, naked on the floor of his ship like this.

Mando takes your nipples into both his hands and twists, pulling and groping at you like a brute and all you can do is arch your back, pressing yourself further into his touch like a mindless whore.

He lines himself up again, leveraging himself on your breasts and splitting you open again with too much ease this time, you’re so wet and dark and flushed like a pulverized fruit.

“P-Perfect pussy, you’re so fucking good.” He moans, sounding delirious.

His body is hard against your fleshy one, he revels in the way his armour makes you bounce and jiggle, how you take him so fucking well on the fucking floor. Shit, he won’t last long like this - you’re too good, you’re too good for him.

Mando paws at your tits, pulls at the flesh and gets lost in how soft and squishy they are as he pummels your poor pussy, squelching and spilling all over the both of you.

He swears he can smell you, even from underneath the helmet he swears he gets a whiff of your cunt, of your sweat, your skin. He wants to taste you so bad, lick every inch of you until there’s nothing left. Mando wants to devour you, he wants to keep you here, just for him to use like this. You’re too good, you’re too good at taking him, he can hardly believe it.

“Need you to cum.”

You nod your head, tears spilling into your hairline and Mando leans over you, gripping both your hands into his and holding them above your head, your legs wrapping high up around his waist.

Looking down, you watch him spear you over and over again without relent. Your world spins, it's thrown off kilter by the strength of his cock and you marvel at yourself for taking something that big inside of you. Mando’s thrusts are strong, deep and punishing, they’re fucking aggressive and you feel yourself tightening up at the mere sight of him - he’s huge, in every sense of the word.

It’s too much, he’s so much and your senses light up like a control board with nothing but him - nothing but Mando and before you know you’re crying out his name into the dead silence of hyperspace.

You pulse around him, suffocating his cock tighter than he thought possible and Mando’s head pounds in his helmet. He watches as you wither underneath him, fucking yourself on his cock as you work through your orgasm, moaning his name like it’ll bring you salvation - Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando.

For a split second he finds himself wishing it was his name, his real name that you were moaning, crying out like you’re wounded and you need him.

He imagines the way it would tumble off your lips, curl around your tongue and how it would taste to drink it from your mouth - Din, Din, Din.

Fuck - he’s cumming.

Mando doesn’t know why that did it for him, but he’s cumming. Feels his balls pull up tight and his cock twitches and pulses painfully hard and he’s drawing out of you and painting your tummy white with his seed.

You gasp when you feel his hot spend land on your heated skin, your eyes fly open and you lift your head to watch him jerk himself onto you.

He looks like a vision, a fucking pillar of silver, a monolith, towering over you. Except you’ve brought him to his knees, this fierce warrior, trembling as he finishes himself off, emptying himself onto your flesh instead of deep inside you. You can’t help but smile at him, drunk off of his cock as you watch him cum all over you.

“I have the implant.” You smirk, sitting up on your elbows now to admire his work.

“H-Huh?” He pants, chest heaving and cock still twitching. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

“Could’ve cum inside me, Mando.” You tell him like you’re disappointed. You are.

Mando growls, lunging for you and groping your belly, smearing his seed into your flesh, painting you where he missed - your chest, breasts, collarbones, he rubs it as far as it’ll go.

He’ll offer you a shower once you’re both up, he tries not to think about what it would’ve felt like to cum deep inside your tight little pussy, how it would have seeped out around him, spilling out the sides and onto the floor along with the rest of your mess.

He would’ve fucked it deep, deep inside of you and watch you take it like the good girl you are.

Next time, he thinks.

“Shut up.” He tells you.

Mando didn’t land in Nevarro like you thought he would.

Instead, you’re on another isolated, a far off one like you usually stick to - Kal’Shebbol.

You’re both quiet as you exit the Razor Crest, letting the noise of the planet fill in through your ears and Mando’s helmet as you walk towards the city.

The planet is nice enough, nicer than you’re used to actually. Tall and far off rolling hills and mountains which surround a modest city. It seems pretty modern from what you can tell as you approach it. Shining lights, even in the daytime, neon signs and loud bustle.

There’s crime here, you can tell, you can practically fucking smell it, you’ve become so familiar with its tang - you’ll do good here, that is… depending on what Mando’s got planned for you.

He doesn’t have you in cuffs, he’s not escorting you, you’re just simply… walking next to him and it’s confusing. You take a side glance at him and he just walks forward with a too-confident stride, seemingly not even worried about you.

So you let him walk with you, closer and closer to the border of the city before he slows down, ultimately coming to a halt. You keep walking however, testing him, wondering who will make the first move.

You make it about ten feet from him before he’s calling after you, your name never sounding so sweet. Stupid, you sound like a lovesick little girl. But you can’t help but smirk as you turn around to face him.

“I have to bring you in.” He calls out, yet there's no malice in his voice, no threat.

You smile at him, it feels genuine, you fucking devil. “Not if you can’t find me.”

Mando approaches you again with that saunter of his, like a true bounty hunter, a true threat. Fuck, why did he have to be so sexy?

Only you know that you had brought this Mandalorian down to his knees. You try to block the image of him on top of you, fucking you out of your mind only hours ago, making you cum harder than you ever had, painting you in his own spend.

Your soaked underwear sits wet and cold against your aching pussy, a painful and uncomfortable reminder of the mess you both made of each other.

When he’s gotten close enough to you, Mando tilts his helmet teasingly.

“You can’t outrun me, remember?” You know he’s smiling all smug underneath that helmet, you can hear it in his voice. It’s chilling and you shiver at the edge, the deep grit of his voice while your shoulder throbs at the memory.

“Well then I better get a head start.” You smile back, feeling hot underneath his gaze.

Grabbing his gloved hand into yours, you squeeze it tight, unable to say goodbye to him for some weird reason. You really don’t know him at all, you’ve only been with him for a day but you think you’ll miss his stoic quietness. Either way, you feel like this doesn’t merit a goodbye - he still has your puck.

Mando stares in disbelief at your gesture, burning hotter and more embarrassed than ever, even though he was buried deep in your cunt only hours ago. He looks at your hand, engulfed in his and Maker, he doesn’t want to let go.

But he watches you drop his hand and walk away from him, lost to the crowd within seconds.

When he’s sure he can’t see you anymore, only then does Mando turn on his heel, heading back to his ship and back to Nevarro.

He tells Karga he had no luck finding you and manages to get another puck from him without much hassle. The new tracking fob takes him all the way out to Maldo Kreis to find some blue guy - as far away from you as possible.

Mando will take the long way getting back to you, hoping you stay out of trouble: from the Imps and the bounty hunters like him.

Your puck burns hot in his holster. It’s where he keeps you close, always on him until he tracks you down and finds you again.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #reader insert #smut #enemies to lovers #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #my writing

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