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aliensupastar · 10 months

Text

shouldn’t feel like a crime

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You finally try Carmy’s cooking. Follow-up to “not wrong, but not right”

Part I Part III

Warnings: minor angst, comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food and eating, healing?

A/N: first off, thank you all so much for the love on the first part! i wrote it as a comfort during a difficult time and it was so nice to see people enjoy it. i didn’t intend on writing more for it, but a few people asked for it and i finally got an idea for a follow-up! as a disclaimer, i wrote most of this before season 2 came out and edited it afterwards, but there are no spoilers. gif by emziess <3

Carmy is a good boss. You know this, you’ve known it for months. His sometimes-abrasive idiolect aside, he runs the restaurant like he cares about every brick that built it, every burner the crew uses to make each dish, every ticket that comes through that god-forsaken machine on the expo station. It makes any screaming match easily forgivable, and any nightmare lunch rush endurable.

What you didn’t know was that Carmy could also be a good friend. Since your stint in the emergency room he’s made good on his agreement with you, without ever being overwhelming. He’s instead mercifully subtle. There’s a few bottles of lemonade kept in the office’s mini-fridge now, for when you get dizzy. He’s lent you that coat of his a few times, when the night air ends up chillier than you predicted that morning, and you’ve left your own jacket at home. And he never fails to give you a look, during the busiest hours at the restaurant, communicating quickly, and quietly: Are you good? And you know if the answer is no, he’ll let you take a breather without a single complaint, but you always respond with a quick nod and push through the rest of the shift.

In turn, you do your best not to worry him. You take vitamins and get better sleep and try to stop pushing yourself to the brink of passing out. You even eat one of your safe foods in front of him, at family while everyone else enjoyed the samosas Ebrahaim had cooked up that day, and for once it felt good to eat; the constant playful bickering and banter a welcome distraction from the usual stress that follows your meals.

It’s nice. Maybe you don’t necessarily feel like you’re getting better, just more… stable. Less like you’re in a free-fall and more like you’ve got both feet on solid ground.

When you go to leave after closing up one night and find that it’s raining, impeding you from making your usual trek to the train station, you turn back and head to the office. And a few months ago, you might’ve been too nervous around Carmy to even ask to stay in the restaurant an extra hour, preferring to brave the cold rain and let your clothes get soaked and heavy rather than hang around. You’re relieved, now, to find Carmy right where you left him when you said goodnight just a minute ago, ready to save you from a miserable trip home.

“What’s up?” He asks when he spots you.

“It’s raining.” You tell him, nodding your head in the direction of the back door. “Didn’t bring an umbrella. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit, just ‘till it stops?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be here finishing up for a while, anyway,” He says, then continues after a brief pause. “Y’know you really gotta stop relying on that iPhone weather app.”

You scoff, shaking your head at his teasing.

“You know I’m too lazy to start using another one.”

“I’m just sayin’.” He pushes out of his chair and walks past you, into the kitchen, grabbing a sponge and the container of soap water he uses to clean the countertops.

“You want help?” You offer, already taking off your coat and tossing it onto the office chair.

“Nah, you already clocked out. Don’t worry about it.” He replies, not even looking up as he begins to scrub, but you pick up a sponge anyway and get to work on the counter behind him.

You fall into a comfortable silence for a while after that, only broken by the sound of rough sponges scraping away at the grime and the faint patter of rain on the roof of the building, and part of you wishes you had more opportunities for this. More time spent with him, outside of the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, even if it’s spent cleaning. His presence has become something you’d rather not avoid, even if it makes your heart race; the unique scent of him on the coat you’ve borrowed is becoming familiar, comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t busy today.” Your train of thought is interrupted by his sudden comment, but you quickly nod.

“Practically a miracle, for a Friday.” You agree, hearing him chuckle behind you.

“Didn’t need that shit today, anyways, not while I’m on,” He says. He was working the stovetop today, alongside Sydney, making an efficient team as they churned out dishes quicker than the customers could file in. It made your day a little easier, the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen while you savored the downtime granted by the slow day.

“I’ve never tried your cooking,” You say offhandedly, but your words make him pause and look back at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” He asks, and you nod. “You’ve worked here for months, though.”

“I know.” You shrug.

“How come?”

That makes you stop scrubbing, turning slightly to look at him.

“Think you know the answer to that one, chef.” You tease, before continuing to work. He huffs out a laugh, but keeps staring at your back while you scrub.

“I could make you something.” He finally says, and it makes you truly stop, turning to face him fully.

“Y’all just cleaned this whole kitchen.” Now it’s his turn to shrug.

“I don’t mind.” You give him an incredulous look.

“I- If you think I’m gonna help you clean the stove and the plates again, you’re wrong.” Carmy just shakes his head, tossing his sponge back into the container of water and grabbing a few clean pans.

“C’mon, I can’t have you walking around saying you’ve never tried the food at the restaurant you work at,” He says. “You like spaghetti?”

He’s casual in the way he asks, but you’re still standing by the counter, eyebrows raised in shock. Your mind is starting to race, the way it does every time you’re faced with food, but Carmy’s already pouring olive oil into a saucepan and brandishing his chef knife to chop an onion.

You approach the stove he’s standing at carefully, like it might just burst into flames, and you can already smell the familiar scent of garlic and olive oil and god, he’s only been at it for a minute and it already smells like heaven in this kitchen.

“Smell good?”

“Yeah,” You practically breathe out. “Shit, smells amazing.”

He smiles at that, a rare thing to see on his face. He’s thoughtful for a moment, before saying:

“This is, uh, Mikey’s recipe, actually.”

Your eyes widen, a bit taken aback by his mention of his late brother. At least, his mention of Mikey to you.

You’d learned about what happened to Michael just a few weeks after being hired, after having witnessed the heavy silence that overtook the room when he’d been mentioned, and asking Marcus after work what all that had been about. Since you received your explanation, you’ve tried to mind your own business when the melancholy that came with Michael’s memory returned, giving those who seemed to know him best room to process before getting back to work.

Carmy’s never talked about Mikey to you directly; no one has. You’re not sure what to say.

“Mikey, that’s… your brother, right?” You ask hesitantly, even if you already know the answer before Carmy nods.

“Yeah. He used to run this place, before it was The Bear.” He tells you.

“Before?” Your confusion and surprise seeps into your tone. “What was it before?”

“Still a restaurant, but, quick service. Italian sandwiches. We weren’t called The Bear, we were-“ He chuckles, caught up in reminiscing. “We were called The Original Beef of Chicagoland.”

“No shit! This used to be The Beef?” He nods his confirmation and you’re instantly brought back, the memory faded like an old photo that’s been shoved into storage and forgotten. The only thing that wasn’t hard to recall was the sandwich you’d ordered, practically dripping with flavor, the exact kind of comfort food you’d needed that day.

“Been here before?” He asks.

“Yeah, I just- I didn’t recognise it.” You’d sat at a table across from the friend that dragged you to the slightly shabby establishment, silently relishing in the deliciousness of your food before the panic could set in, so enraptured by it you didn’t even care about the booming voice coming from behind a door that presumably led to the kitchen. Not even when the person it belonged to came out to the front and-

“Mikey, was he like, tall? Black hair?” You suddenly ask, gesturing how tall you’d remembered the man being, and now Carmy’s the one that’s confused.

“Uh, yeah. You- you knew Mikey?” He sounds a little breathless when he asks, but you shake your head.

“No, but when I came here before, he was still running the place, I guess. And just… loud as shit. Hard to ignore,” You look up and meet Carmy’s eyes. “Hard to forget.”

You both share a laugh at that, at the memory of his brother that he loved, and that you barely even knew.

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like him.” The sweet smile stays on his face as he chops and sautées, refusing to let you do more than start boiling the spaghetti for him. All you can do is watch the pasta and watch him as he navigates his brother’s recipe like it’s pure muscle memory.

As much as you like to steal glances at him during opening prep, you don’t get to see as much of him during service hours. You’re just as busy working front-of-house, keeping people happy and keeping Richie off your ass, as he is while he’s trying to keep up on dishes. You don’t get a ton of chances to see him like this, in his element. He plates the finished spaghetti perfectly, in two bowls, so you know he won’t let you eat alone.

Still, the anxiety in your stomach rises when you accept the fork Carmy hands you, and you can’t help but pause. He does, too, and you know he easily recognises the cause of your trepidation.

“What’s up?” He asks, his voice gentle. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the conflict in your mind, but you can’t stop yourself from saying it.

“Do you… just, maybe have an idea of-“

“I have no clue how many calories are in this.” He answers your question before you can even ask it, and you can’t help but let out a breath of amusement — at yourself, at him for somehow knowing.

It’s his gentle smile, one that lacks judgment or pity, that pushes you to finally swirl the spaghetti around your fork and take a bite and-

Oh my god.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you during that first bite, ignoring Carmy’s chuckle at your slight dramatics. You can see why he’s hot shit in the restaurant world; the dish barely looked fancy or complicated when he’d made it, certainly not as complicated as anything on the menu, but somehow it tastes better than any pasta you’ve ever had. You would say you’re in disbelief, but you don’t pause long enough to think about anything but this, how amazing every flavor bursting on your tongue is.

Carmy finishes his pasta before you do, but he stands next to you till your bowl is empty, before taking it over to the dish pit and beginning to scrub down all the dishware he’d used. And you stand there for a second, staring at his back, unable to process all the emotion filling you as he washes your bowl. The bowl he let you get dirty, because he wanted you to be able to try his food.

The utter warmth flooding your senses is almost overwhelming.

Then, despite your earlier protests, you pick up the sponge he abandoned earlier and get to scrubbing the stovetop down again. You ignore the few warm tears that escape your waterline in the process.

You mindlessly follow Carmy around as he walks through each room, shutting off lights and locking the front entrance and office doors. When you inevitably make your way to the back exit, you push open the door only to find that it’s still raining, worse than it was hours ago. You can only sigh and lean your head against the doorway in defeat.

“Need a ride?” Carmy offers easily.

You think back to the frame that sits on the countertop out front, holding a slightly crumpled index card: “I love you, dude. Let it rip.” Words you’ve seen nearly every day since your first on the job; you just now realize they’re probably Michael’s.

It feels like too much. The letting you stick around, the pasta, the… everything.

You nod anyways, accepting Carmy’s offer, letting him lead you to his car, and he lets you lead the way home.

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the shrimp that fried that rice #my writing

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flem17ng · 4 months

Note

Could you write basically anything for Jessie Fleming? I’m obsessed with her atm x

Chance encounters JFlem x Reader

Thank you anon! I have the biggest crush on her rn it’s not even funny. I hope you enjoy (also please note that i’m still getting used to writing in second person so i’m sorry if the grammar is insane)

chelsea!jessie fleming x Arsenal!reader

summary: reader has just signed for Arsenal as a midfielder. she meets jessie at her starting debut against chelsea. a few chance encounters after and their relationship builds.

warnings: Kinda very long.

word count: 3.2k

“Y/n if you don’t hurry Jonas is gonna find someone to fill that starting spot!”

“no he won’t Leah, don’t be a dick.”

Leah laughed from where she leaned against the doorway. You two were the only ones left in there, everyone else was on their way through the tunnels to warm up.

“come on kid, you’re great! there is a reason why you’re on this team ok. remember that”

You sighed but nodded, Leah was right as always. But that didn’t stop the feeling of nerves that crept into your belly and up your back and neck. The last time you had been this nervous was… well you couldn’t remember when.

You stood and corrected your shin pad slightly before straightening up.

“I know.” you breathed and took a deep breath, “ok. i’m good. let’s go williamson!”

You slapped her on the back at you stepped passed her and into the hallway.

on the other side was the other team, chelsea’s, locker room.

“god i hate this stadium, they put us so close together!” Leah whined as you both walked past. You didn’t answer, instead peering into the room. you caught sight of a short brown ponytail and a blue kit before you were rudely tugged forwards.

“jeez Leah! you’re the one who stayed behind to wait for me! what’s with all the impatience” you mumbled but trudged on. It was a big game, you wanted to get warm.

***

Walking out as part of the opening lineup was the most surreal experience you had ever had. The crowed roared like a stormy sea of blue and red. Chelsea fans screamed at their captain while the gooners ran through player chants. Across from you, on chelsea’s side, stood the opposing attacking midfielder. You could feel your palms sweating, your heart racing, but you spared a glance at the girl- before promptly almost stopping breathing.

Jessie Fleming was standing about a metre away from you: eyes forward, jaw clenched, hair in a neat ponytail. You’d seen her around before (and if you were being really honest, you’d always thought she was gorgeous) But now she was standing right next to you.

“head in the game y/l/n” Katie called from behind you.

Jessie looked at you before you could look away, and curled her lips up in a friendly smile. You felt your stomach flip at the sight and gave her an awkward wave in return before facing the front.

So what if she was gorgeous? So what if she happened to be the player Jonas told you to mark? You had a derby the win.

***

Look. You hadn’t seen her coming so really, was it your fault that you ended up on top of her in the last 5 minutes of the game? maybe.

The game was as tough as you knew it was going to be: Kerr was running up front aiming for the net while the chelsea defenders had locked into a solid formation. By half time it was still nil all. By second half both teams had gotten reckless; Beth took a hard tumble that had the crowd on their feet while Ashleigh Lawrence on the blues side had been sent off with a suspected concussion.

so there you were, midfielding in a violent London derby, 2 all with just minutes left to go.

You touched the ball and took off running, hoping to pass it off to Katie. Distantly you could hear Steph screaming at you (“MAN ON, MAN ON y/n!!”) but before you could proses her words the ball was stolen in a lightning slide-tackle. The force took you off balence and you stumbled forward into the player who was just starting to stand up.

Time seemed to slow down as you fell forwards: the ball rolled away, the grass was a lot greener up close and oh god were you falling on the person you thought you were?!

You hit something hard and warm with a thud.

“ow” Jessie groaned, having been sandwiched between the ground and yourself.

You looked at her, horrified at the situation, and found her with her eyes shut and grimacing.

“oh my god, I’m so sorry” the whistle had blown but you ignored it, scrambling off the Canadian and holding out your hand to help her up.

she cracked open her eye and smiled lopsidedly.

“hey i’m the one that tackled you!”

You shuffled, hand still outstretched. Jessie laughed and look your hand with a firm grip, letting herself be pulled up.

“true. Maybe i should be rolling around on the ground a bit more to prove that. Lord knows we need that penalty” You grinned at her and slapped her arm before pulling away.

“You wish gooner”

The whistle blew again and you both turned to the referee. you still had some time in this game.

***

Jessie limped into the Blues locker room, hair falling out of her pony tail and cheeks a flaming pink. The game hadn’t gone in her favour, something she took hard. The tumble at the end of the game had left her feeling beaten and bruised.

“jess! nice work ok there mate!” Sam slapped her shoulder with a smile. Jessie just nodded and began to pull off her shirt with one hand. At this point in the night she just wanted to get home with her dog and a large tub of chocolate ice cream. Slowly she packed up her stuff, pulling off her socks and shoes. she was halfway through her post game ritual when guro sat with a thud next to her.

“tough tumble you took just then”

“oh it was nothing really. just a badly timed tackle is all.” Jessie shrugged. the tackle had been perfect but she wasn’t about to blame you for it.

“have you met her before. y/n?” Guro questioned.

Jessie felt her cheeks go red again and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“not properly no. we’re in similar circles”

“hm. she’s cute” Guro winked and stood, grabbing her bag. “see ya on Tuesday jess!”

Jessie opened her mouth, thought, and shut it again. She felt her ears burn a little. of course she knew you where cute, she’d thought that the second she had seen your transfer announcement, she’d known you were gorgeous the moment she had seen you in a bar months ago during a holiday break. And she’d been thinking about you since she saw you sitting up on the starting roster for the derby.

A knock on the locker room door startled her out of her (gay) thoughts.

“hey Fleming? Sorry i know i’m technically not allowed to be here…” Your voice carried through the almost empty room. You stood in the doorway, looking very out of place in your arsenal jacket.

“no not at all. come in please” jessie managed to get out, half in shock and half in disbelief. You walked forward to where she sat, one leg stretched out, kit half on, bag half packed.

“i just wanted to make sure you were ok. I fell pretty hard on you back there” You fiddled with your fingers and glanced down at jessie as if checking for any bruises.

“eh, no worse than anything else. Just tired mostly” She looked up at you and you noticed how dark her eyes looked. she did seem tired, weighed down even. You hummed and sat gingerly on the bench next to her. the change room was empty now, and quiet. Jessie rubbed her knee with a wince You watched the side of her face for a second before reaching into your own bag and pulling out a small ice pack that you kept for emergency’s. Gently, you touched her hand and moved it off her knee, placing the ice pack down instead.

“thanks” jessie muttered, holding the ice pack to her joint.

“Good job tonight.” you half whispered, scared to raise your voice in the quiet room, “i had a lot of fun playing with you” You stood up and brushed your pants awkwardly. Jessie smiled and nodded but didn’t look convinced.

“see you around y/l/n”

“bet on it Fleming”

***

*ARSENAL WIN LONDON DERBY. 3-2 AGAINST CHELSEA*

the newspaper sat on the park bench, a light wind rustling its pages and the recently fallen leaves on the path. You smiled when you saw it, remembering the excitement of the game, the final goal and the bar night that came after. You went to pick up the paper when a dog started barking.

“i’m so sorry he doesn’t normally do that” a woman called apologetically.

“no problem really” you stated looking up from the paper to the golden retriever that was sniffing at your feet. “aren’t you a handsome boy?” you cooed before looking up at the owner.

“y/n? oh my god i didn’t recognise you out of your kit!” Jessie grinned at you, both hands on her dog’s leash as she attempted to keep him from running off. She was wearing a sweatshirt and loose jeans, her hair was out in waves around her jaw.

“Jessie gosh i didn’t see you!” you hoped you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt, though you doubted it considering how hot your cheeks were.

She looked down at the paper on the bench and snorted.

“still revelling in your glory then?” you looked down, guilty. “It’s alright, it was a hell of a debut”

“even if i fell on my face at the end?”

“I believe you fell on my face actually” Jessie giggled, her cheeks going rosy.

“hey now i said i was sorry!”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing did i?” You looked at her with raised eyebrows, she just raised hers back. You would have thought she was bantering if it wasn’t for the steady blush going from her freckled cheeks to her ears.

The dog woofed loudly, snapping you both back to reality.

“um so, free day for you aswell?” Jessie asked now trying to look anywhere but at you.

“yeah. Coach let us have a day off for ‘celebration’.”

“hate to break it to you Y/l/n but this isn’t the pub” Jessie motioned around the park (relatively empty because it was a Monday morning)

“Well… I would much rather be out and about than in some stuffy pub at 9am. Why are you free?”

“I think Emma wanted to give us time to reflect on the game. I’m sure we’ll be in for a lecture tomorrow.” Jessie pulled the leed and motioned for you to walk with her. The park was one of those little ones you only find in London: gated and stuck between large apartments and tiny cafes.

“you played amazingly though.” You stated, sticking your hands in your pockets. Jessie snorted and shook her head.

“I played pretty shit. You don’t have to butter me up.”

“I’m not! I’ve seen you play a million times before and yesterday was definitely one of the best”

“a million times? really? I didn’t know you where a fan” jessie smirked.

“oh please Fleming don’t look so smug or i’ll find some other boring Canadian to bother”

Jessie scoffed and looked at you with feigned anger, “Boring? You’re the one spending your celebration day in a park with the enemy”

You laughed and nodded in agreement. The truth was: You had been invited for breakfast with the team but crowds weren’t really your thing. And maybe you couldn’t get a certain brunette off your mind but that wasn’t anyone’s business.

“well would it make it any better if i asked the enemy to get some coffee with me?”

***

The cafe, like the park, was empty. an old man sat in the corner with a crossword and the teenager at the counter looked half asleep on his feet. The dog was allowed in and now sat peacefully by jessie’s feet, his big brown eyes looking out the window for a squirrel to watch.

“what’s his name?” You asked, tipping your head towards the retriever.

“moose”

“moose? oh my god you’re so Canadian. Next you’re gonna tell me you have a cat called maple syrup.” Jessie laughed and shook her head.

“i do have a cat back home- but her name is Bear.”

“oh my god that’s almost worse.” you laughed and patted moose on the head. “you like animals then?”

Jessie’s eyes lit up and she leaned closer.

“i love them. anything in nature! hiking, camping. And any animal i love!” Her eyes sparkled and she took a sip of her drink (cold brew, an order a friend from the Canadian team had introduced to her).

“wait yeah i forgot. You’re crazy smart aren’t you?” You asked. Of course she was, smart, talented, god damn ethereal in the morning sunlight and apparently an animal lover aswell.

“well… i went to university. engineering, environmental science.” she smiled sheepishly, “it’s funny because i majored in mechanical engineering but i would love to have a farm one day” She smiled thinking about it. You pictured it for a moment: Jessie in a flannel and cowboy hat, dog by her side and an axe or something in her hand.

“I think you would be good at that” You responded, trying not to think about lumber jack jessie for too long.

She smiled and took another long sip from her cup.

“I didn’t know you lived near here?” Jessie asked.

“yeah I’ve been staying with Leah for a few weeks. I’m hoping to get an apartment within a month or so though.” rooming with leah was harder than it sounded. she was high maintenance. “what about you? do you live with anyone? boyfriend?”

jessie snorted, her coffee almost spraying over the table. She looked at you for a moment with a raised eyebrow before realising you weren’t kidding.

“oh you’re serious? No i don’t have a boyfriend. I um. No. i don’t… I don’t really do boys at all really” Jessie blushed and shook her head.

“OH! oh god my bad! I mean neither do i. I didn’t want to assume, you know get my hopes up-“ You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth.

“get your hopes up eh?” jessie smirked. You panicked for a second, Looking at her and then the door and then the old man. Jeez that was real smooth.

“What i mean is: Sometimes you just don’t know. I didn’t want to hope that you… That you were gay because we might not relate right!” was it hot in the cafe? you were pretty sure you were sweating. Did jessie buy it? why did she look disappointed. It was at that moment that your phone began to ring.

“Look jess i’ll have to catch you later! Leah is wondering why i didn’t get the coffee beans she told me to get!”

“Leah doesn’t drink coffee”

“yes. right. well i still must be off” you got up and handed your card to the waiter, paying for both you and jessie’s drinks without a thought. Jessie watched you for a moment feeling a little hurt. Did you have a problem with her being gay? That didn’t make sense but she couldn’t think of another reason that you had gone cold.

“Alright. Thanks for the coffee eh? I’ll pay you back another time.”

“sure. another time Fleming” you smiled and patter Moose one last time before heading out the door leaving jessie both confused, slightly hurt and all together very queer.

***

It was Millie that ended up dragging her to the club a few weeks later. If it was up to her, Jessie would have stayed in watching star wars with a bowl of popcorn. But alas, her Captain had other plans and so she found herself, half drunk and grumpy in a crowded booth on a friday night. She was wearing a black button down shirt and slacks (the only smart outfit she owned that wasn’t sweats and a tshirt). The music was Thumping, Lights flashing and her head was feeling way too light for this early in the evening.

“hey jeff. I think i spotted your girl on the dance floor earlier” Sam shouted teasingly. By now the whole team had noticed jessie’s little crush.

“she’s not my girl sam. She literally ran away when she found out i was gay” Jessie rolled her eyes and sunk further into her seat. So maybe she had been thinking about that day at the cafe a little more than normal.

“oh my god you’re an idiot fleming.” Guro stated. “she’s gay! She blushes like an idiot every-time you’re around! go find her and dance!”

“yeah right. i’m going to dance but just to get away from you” jessie stood and walked into the dance floor, finding the music and letting herself move further away from her friends in the booth. It was all she could think about for the last few weeks. Every post she saw about you, every song made her feel dizzy. She felt like a fool.

“Jessie? I didn’t know you would be out tonight” Your voice cut through the music and jessie turned sharply to face you, her mouth falling open. You were wearing a tight dress that clung to your curves, the lights of the club lit up your face in strange ways, highlighting your lips, your eyes… jessie froze.

“look jess i feel really bad about that day. I was being an idiot. I don’t know why i freaked out the way i did. I mean of course i wanted you to be gay! You’re the most amazingly beautiful woman i’ve ever seen! god i’m just yapping now but-“

“dance with me” Jessie cut you off, eyes still wide as she watched you.

“pardon?”

“dance with me y/n”

She stepped closer into you her hands coming to rest on your waist where she ran her nails softly over the silk of your dress. The music was loud and fast yet you swayed together, impossibly close.

you put your hands in her neck, your fingers tangling into the roots of her hair making her eyes flutter closed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you laughed nervously. Jessie’s eyes were on yours, pupils large and dark. The crowd melted away as she pushed forward and kissed you.

It was as if all the air had been sucked from your lungs. Her lips were soft and warm and tasted like mixer and vodka. Her grip tightened on your waist and you kissed her back hard. Your finger slipped into her hair as she gasped into your mouth. It was hot and messy and you needed it. You kissed her like a woman starved.

When you finally broke apart you breathed heavily, mouth pink and cheeks flushed.

“fuck” she gasped, her eyes glued to your mouth.

“yeah” you laughed cradling her face in your hands.

“for the record i think you’re really beautiful.” jessie laughed, suddenly looking bashful. You grinned and placed another kiss on her swollen lips.

“let’s get out of here Fleming. I think I need to show you just how beautiful you are”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #chelsea fcw

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sourpatchys · 3 months

Text

Title: Embrace

Rating: pg, nothing explicit

Word count: 893

A/n: I really just think Daryl deserved a solid hug during this scene so I had to write something. I may add to this and create a list of firsts! This would be first hug, then kiss, and perhaps some smut (I’ve been wanting to write for a first time with Daryl for a while) let me know what you think! <3

—

Back at the farm, when Sophia was discovered and life was in shambles— Daryl had separated himself.

You could guess why, he'd been on the hunt day in and day out from the moment it had all began.

He was— as most of you were— broken, inside and out. You'd seen his growth from the sidelines, his warmth towards Carol in her time of need, the light behind his eyes after finding that shack in the woods and the anger he displayed at the mention of that dirty little doll not being a beacon of hope.

And now it was all gone. The work he had put in was for not— the injuries he had sustained, the tears he had shed— all for nothing but a six foot hole in the ground and a broken heart.

You were willing to give him his space, ready to understand and let him be. That is, until you saw Carol, a woman who had already been through so much, leaving his newfound camp with tears in her eyes.

Part of yourself knew— you knew her tears weren't that of sadness, but rather an understanding of their combined grief. Daryl cared about Sophia, he cared about finding Sophia, and she knew how he was feeling.

That didn't stop you from moving on instinct, marching your way over to the archer as soon as Carol was out of sight and tucked away in the RV.

He heard you before he saw you, your heavy footsteps rushed and messy. He knew why you were there. He couldn't bring himself to care.

He was tired of caring.

As you reached him, his head swung forward to look at you. His eyes were cold and empty— but not dark. It's as if his body spoke one language and his eyes spoke another, begging you to save him, but letting you know if you tried, you wouldn't make it out alive.

"The fuck do you want?" His gruff voice rang, spewing hot venom with every syllable.

There was an invisible barrier between the two of you, one you dared not break— keeping your distance and planting yourself only a few feet away.

"So you like making people cry now? Distance yourself all you want, but don't take it out on anyone but yourself!" Your own words felt like molten lava in your throat as you lifted an accusatory finger in his direction, your eyes burning with unshed tears.

You rarely ever got angry. Hell— this was the first time you've so much as raised your voice since the end of the world. Not even so much as a shriek had fallen from your lips. You hated being loud, no matter the circumstance.

Maybe you were broken too.

Daryl stood, marching himself over to you, those few feet of space dissolving with every heated step, his hand coming up to mock your own as he shoved a finger in your face.

"What the fuck do you know about it?!" You could feel his spit hit your face as he spoke— "You commin' down here to piss me off too?! Why don't you jus' march your worthless ass back where you came from?!"

As much as you hated being loud— you weren't in a headspace to stop yourself.

"Oh, so you can yell at a grieving mother but I can't get mad at you for doing it?! What the fuck Daryl?!"

"It's none of yer fuckin' business what I do, now is it?!"

You just stood there for a moment— none of his words had gotten to you, and you were sure none of yours had gotten to him. This wasn't going anywhere. Why were you even here in the first place? What was the point?

Not daring to step back, you looked into Daryl's eyes again, that same cold look struck you. His eyes were moving frantically, his piercing gaze not knowing where to land as he took you in.

He knew it too. He knew this was pointless.

All he wanted was to be left alone— to bask in his failure and force himself to move on. He took on a role, he gave false hope— he wasn't enough.

The longer you stood there, staring at one another, the more clear it all came to you. You weren't a fighter, you kept to yourself, much like he did— for different reasons you were sure. But maybe— right now, his reasoning was similar.

He felt out of place— he felt useless.

The whispered words that came out of your mouth after what seemed like hours, rang deep into his core.

"It's not your fault, Daryl.”

Before he could argue, before he could even do much as blink, you found yourself leaning into him— wrapping your arms around his tight knit frame, pulling him close to you.

"It's not your fault, Daryl." You whispered again, squeezing your arms around his broad frame, sinking into his skin.

He was tense under your touch, your skin against his body felt like hot cigarette ashes. But he couldn't find it in himself to pull away. Entranced by the feel of genuine human touch.

Slowly, he reciprocated, his hands finding the small of your back, fingers twitching nervously— and if possible— he pulled you closer.

This makeshift embrace, full of anger and sorrows— was exactly what he needed.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl twd

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himexyandere · 7 months

Text

Leaves Fall Just Like Us

Pairing: Yandere Male!Spider x Female!Reader

Word count: 1750

Content Warning(s): Possessive behavior, manipulation, drugging (via venom), nonconsensual groping, slight mindbreak

A/N: So this is my first post on this separate, yandere-centered blog, I hope y'all like it! 💗 (Also, our ML's name is pronounced like "rain")

You weren’t sure how or even when you managed to get yourself lost in a mansion, which you originally assumed to be abandoned. That assumption of yours was swiftly proven false as you noted that no part of the mansion looked neglected. Aged, yes, but there were hardly any specks of dust to be found.

In contrast to the cleanliness of the place, there were spiderwebs in almost every corner, nook, and cranny that you’d laid your eyes on. The afternoon sun illuminated most of the space, but you could tell that based on the burnt oranges and light pinks decorating the marble floors, the light was fleeting and wouldn’t last for much longer.

You had to leave—now.

As soon as that singular thought crossed your mind, you began to backtrack immediately, feet seemingly on autopilot. You didn’t make it three steps back before you ran into something solid, eliciting a surprised-sounding grunt from whatever you’d collided with. Ignoring the fear sirens blaring in your mind, you whipped around without a second thought, only to come face-to-face (or more like face-to-chest) with a human. Or at least, that was what you would’ve liked to say—

Your eyes scaled the figure, just barely flitting to the side as inhuman appendages flooded your peripherals, continuing upward until you were gazing into the eyes—multiple pairs of eyes—of what you assumed to be a man-spider...? You were screaming before you knew it, which caused the humanoid spider’s eyes (all eight of them) to widen as he raised his arms surrenderingly, dropping a book he had been clutching onto in the process.

“Please, don’t be afraid!” He rushed to calm your fright while attempting to make himself look as disarming as possible; which, of course, wasn’t an easy feat as he was an intimidating height equipped with six pedipalps sprouting from his back and chelicerae framing his face. “I mean you no harm, I swear!”

“W-who—” Was all you could manage to say in response as your body trembled of its own accord.

The man-spider gave you a little smile then took a small step back to give you some more space. That didn’t really help, though, because now you could see just how tall he really was. For the most part, he was built like a normal, human man — if it weren’t for the obvious spider-esque parts, of course.

“My name is Raigne,” The man before you canted his head a little to the side. “May I ask what your name is, my guest?”

“[Your Name]...” You offered him your name without a second thought, leading you to wonder if it was out of politeness(?) or innate fear. Perhaps it was a mixture of both?

Then, as if you’d only remembered where you were and that you were indeed an active participant in this conversation, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked at Raigne.

“Wait, ‘guest’..?” He’d referred to you as “his guest” mere moments ago, but getting over the bizarreness of the situation was difficult, admittedly.

“Well, yes, you are in my home. That makes you my guest, doesn’t it?” The smile on Raigne’s face widened a touch. “Though it appears we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, dear [Your Name]. Tell me, how did you end up here?”

Honestly, you were just as confused as he was. You remembered traveling with a group of explorers to find abandoned structures for an ongoing research project the lot of you were participating in, only to end up in this unfamiliar place. You were alone and there were no signs of your group. At one point, you tried writing it off as a convoluted dream until you came to realize that pinching yourself did not result in you waking up.

After racking your brain for a suitable answer to give the man, whose home you’d unknowingly intruded into, you eventually came up with nothing. “I… Don’t remember…” You felt bad, but you didn’t want to lie.

Fortunately, Raigne was pretty understanding and instead offered you a sympathetic smile.

“That’s perfectly alright, I’m sure the answer you’re looking for will come with enough time,” He said before bending at the waist to pick up the book he’d dropped. “In the meantime, would you mind coming with me, [Your Name]? Regardless of how you got here, I would still like to treat you as a guest, if you don’t mind.”

As apprehensive as you were to trust a complete stranger, (never mind the fact that he was, well… A spider) you didn’t see any other choice at the time being. After a few moments, you gave him a nod and a hesitant smile.

“S-sorry, thank you for having me, Raigne…”

The smile returned to Raigne’s face, wider than before in a way that seemed unnatural, accentuating his chelicerae.

“Please, it is my pleasure, [Your Name].”

You’re unsure of how much time you’ve spent with Raigne. Days? Weeks? Months? At this point, it very well could have been years, but you had no way of knowing, nor did you really care to. He provided you with a room, clothes, food, and entertainment — what more could you ask for?

Being with Raigne was a pleasant experience as well, once you overcame your initial fear of him. He was polite and accommodating, on top of understanding. He knew how scary spiders could be, so he took the time to ease your worries by reassuring you with some spider facts.

“Most male spiders don’t bite, nor do they produce much venom, so you’ll never have to worry about that!” Was what he told you in response to you asking if he was a venomous spider.

His answer brought you a sense of relief, and you noticeably began to relax around him afterward. Not only was Raigne a gracious host, he was also an interesting person overall to conversate with and you found yourself enjoying his company quite a bit.

As you sat with Raigne in his study enjoying a cup of coffee and chatting idly, your gaze was drawn outside the window behind him as the movement from a falling brown leaf caught your attention.

“Huh… Looks like it’s gonna be autumn soon.” You remarked as you swirled your finger around the rim of your now-empty cup.

Raigne stopped talking and followed your gaze out the window, staring in silence as the frequency of falling leaves increased. His odd shift in behavior should’ve been the first sign that Raigne was feeling… Off.

After your conversation, Raigne quickly retired to his room with the excuse of “feeling a little under the weather”, and shut his door without another word. It couldn’t have been something you said, right? Your conversation up until that point was light, amicable… So what the heck was up with him? You figured you could wait until later to ask him, since now seemed to be a bad time.

Later that night, after getting ready for bed, you decided to go back to Raigne’s room and check on him.

“Raigne? Are you in there?” You called out softly after knocking on his door twice.

No response.

You pressed your ear to the door, only to realize that it was already open. You pushed your way in, worry clouding your senses as you scanned the dark room. You’d only been inside Raigne’s room a handful of times before this, but for some reason, it was a little more… Foreboding during the night.

“Raigne..?” You tried calling him again as you stepped fully into the room, looking around the spacious area to find him.

A soft click sounded from behind you, but it was already too late.

Before you could even think to turn around, you were wrapped up in a familiar pair of arms and pedipalps, holding you rigidly in place until you felt a pair of fangs sinking into your neck. Then came the injection of an unidentified fluid—venom, you presumed, even in your stunned state. Who else could it be but Raigne clutching your body, back flushed with his chest as he bit you?

“I’m sorry, [Your Name],” Were the first words out of his mouth once he was through with the envenomation, followed along by a low chuckle. “You’re sweet, did you know that? A little too trusting as well… But that’s what I love about you.”

Raigne then nuzzled into the crook of your neck, right next to the spot where he’d sunk his pincers into you not mere seconds ago.

“W-why, d’you…” Your question was slurred and delirious-sounding, which only made Raigne coo at you in the same affectionate way one would do to a cute, struggling kitten.

“Hmm? Do you mean to ask why I’m biting you when I told you that male spiders typically don’t?” You couldn’t even nod, but he seemed to know that he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Well, my dear, I did tell you that most male spiders don’t bite… I never said that I didn’t,” Raigne chuckled again, still nuzzling against you. “Oh, and about the venom… It isn’t lethal, don’t worry. Why in the world would I want a dead bride? I’m a spider, not a specter~”

As he continued speaking, the frequency of his nuzzling increased, and you still found yourself unable to move a muscle. Your entire body was paralyzed.

“Did you know? Autumn is the mating season for most spiders,” Raigne’s unoccupied hands began to wonder then, starting from your shoulders and trailing down to your breasts. “I was wondering how I should court you... I truly apologize for not doing it properly, but I really could not help myself!”

He bent down closer to whisper in your ear, as if his words were much too sacred to be spoken aloud, “You are so alluring… I’m surprised by how uncouth I am behaving because of how much I want you.”

His words took on a somewhat warbly tone, entering into a raspy, dreamy-like pitch. It didn’t help that he was still groping you, hands eager and thorough in their exploration of your chest. In his mind, he had all the time in the world to do so, after all — and it wasn’t like you would be going anywhere anytime soon, what with his pedipalps still holding you and his venom in your blood.

Raigne fully intended to make you his bride.

Once that thought crossed your hazy mind, the idea of freedom slowly slipped away until you could think of nothing else...

#male yandere x reader #yandere drabble #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere x reader #yandere spider #my writing #yandere #yandere male #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #male oc x reader #original character #yandere teratophilia #teratophillia

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babygirlbenji · 8 months

Text

I Still Love You - Mason Mount

A/N: This is a long-awaited part 2 to Last Train To London which you can read here! I worked really hard on it and I hope it lives up to expectations. Enjoy!

Warnings: mild angst, mild swearing, fluff

WC: 2.8k

When your train pulled into London King’s Cross, Ben was there, as promised, to pick you up with a McDonald’s meal. He took you under his wing, and let you stay at his place for the night.

‘Make yourself comfortable, sweets, and please know you can stay here as long as you need.’ You knew you had an offer from Sophia and Kai to crash at their place until you got back on your feet, but you didn’t want to intrude on their space.

‘I might take you up on that offer, Ben, thank you.’ He showed you around his place, making sure you knew where everything was in case you couldn’t sleep, let you have free rein of the fridge, freezer and cupboards, and even let Oscar the dog stay in your room, which Oscar was more than happy to oblige.

‘I think that’s everything. If you need me, text me, okay? I’m right here.’ You shuffled over to him and wrapped your arms around his torso to give him a hug you’d needed for weeks at that point. He rubbed your back affectionately. He was like a big brother to you, and you were more grateful than you could ever put into words for his support.

You had expected that night to have been sleepless and anxious, but you were simply too exhausted, both mentally and physically, that by the time you changed into your pyjamas, brushed your teeth and climbed into bed, your eyes were drooping already. Oscar jumped onto the bed and turned around a couple of times, making a nice little den in the blanket for him to snuggle up next to you in. You reached out to fiddle with his curly fur. The dog was like a weighted blanket, reassuring you that you were safe and you were okay. Before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

As the days, weeks and months rolled by, you could feel yourself slowly healing. Ben, Reece and the rest of the Chelsea boys, along with Kai and Jorgi over at Arsenal (they were still very much part of the inner circle), stood stoically beside you every step of the way. You had initially distanced yourself from Stamford Bridge for the first couple of months, the memories you had made there with Mason all too painful, but you gradually made your way back into the hallowed halls of the iconic stadium. You attended matches whenever you could, and started to wear CHILWELL 21 shirts to matches.

This had not gone unnoticed by fans. They had quickly cottoned on to the fact that you had gone back to London and Mason was still in Manchester. The gossip websites were in full swing, linking you and Ben together and writing spiteful articles about how you were a gold-digger, how you hopped from one football player to another, how it was your fault that your relationship had ended… You never minded, though. You continued on your healing journey and went about your daily business. You had secured a well-paying job back in London as an events planner in Soho, and had managed to find a nice little studio flat not too far from your office. Ben had insisted he buy you a new car, as you had sold your car up in Manchester to help bring some money in to pay for the flat deposit. Your life was most definitely on the up, and it would take a gigantic storm to blow you off course.

That gigantic storm came about a year after you moved back to London. You had your routine, you were solid in your job and you met up with Ben and the boys regularly.

One such outing in Knightsbridge, Ben pulled you aside to have a chat.

‘What’s up, Benji?’ The nickname you had for him was one only you could use. He hated being called Benji by everyone, but you were basically his little sister. In his eyes, you could get away with murder.

‘Well, um…’ His face told you he had information he would rather not give you, but felt it was his moral obligation to do so anyway.

‘Come on, Ben, out with it!’

‘Declan’s invited me and Mason to his birthday party, and he’s invited you, too.’ His words sent a chill down your spine. You hadn’t spoken to or about Mason in months, although that hadn’t stopped you from thinking about him every day. Thinking about what could have been, thinking about the ‘what ifs’, thinking about what you could have done to make him stay in love with you. You were brought back to earth by Ben putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. ‘You don’t have to decide just yet, but the offer is there if you did want to go. It would be great to have you there.’ He gave you a quick hug, before he went back to join the rest of the group to have drinks, leaving you with your thoughts and a large decision to make. While you would love to celebrate Declan with your friends, you hadn’t seen or heard from Mason in a year. The awkwardness was what worried you the most, along with the possibility of all the emotions coming back if you did end up running into him. Because deep down, in your heart, you knew that you still loved him. He was the absolute love of your life, and you couldn’t help but feel that he was your one that got away. You realised then just how much you missed him.

The night had swiftly come to an end for you, so you messaged Ben to let him know that you were on your way home and that you’d see him soon.

Benjamin: No worries J text me when you get home, and let me know if you’re coming to Dec’s birthday bash. We’d love to have you but I know you’ll have to decide. LOVE YA X

It was safe to say you didn’t get much sleep that night. You were awake for hours, tossing and turning, thinking about what Ben had said. It would be great to go and show up for Declan. He’d been there for you through everything, even with Lauren giving birth to little Jude. They had both made space for you in their busy lives with a new-born, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Before you could stop yourself, you sent a message to Ben:

To: Benjamin: Been thinking about it all night. Sorry for the late message, I figured I needed to say it before I think about it more lol. I’ll be at Dec’s party x

You rolled over onto your side. There was no turning back now.

The day of the party arrived. Your room was a mess, dresses and shoes strewn across the floor. You wanted to find the perfect outfit for a party, which would show that you cared to make an effort but not too much effort, on the off chance you would see Mason.

Your eyes fell upon a navy blue bodycon dress that you had worn a couple of times before. It came down to your mid-thigh and had a neckline that did your bust some considerable favours. Finally feeling more positive about what you were wearing, having started to feel like you were going to have a breakdown about not being able to find anything appropriate to wear, you shoved on a pair of simple black heels and touched up your makeup. There was a knock at your door. Checking your phone, the time was 7:30; Ben was picking you up and he had arrived bang on time.

‘Coming!’ Your voice carried into the hall as you opened the door to find Ben, who was wearing a smart navy-blue button down with black slacks. Your mind briefly registered the fact that the colour of his shirt was basically a direct match to your dress.

‘Hey, you,’ he smiled, leaning in to give you a hug. Your senses were temporarily hazy by his cologne, which you painfully recalled as one that Mason had recommended to him as you had liked it on Mason. On Ben, though, it didn’t have the same knee-weakening effect as it had done for you when Mason wore it. ‘You good?’ He had obviously taken your quietness as nervousness.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m good. You?’ He nodded. You could tell he was searching your face for any signs of discomfort, of not wanting to go, of being terrified of seeing Mason.

‘All good. Mostly just worried about you.’ You shrugged.

‘I’ll be fine. Got my wingman, I’ll be okay.’ You shared a laugh as you walked downstairs to where he had a car waiting. He held the door open for you, letting you slide in with him following you.

You and Ben spent the journey talking about your days and what you’d got up to, how your job was going, what antics he and the boys got up to at training and other small talk. He didn’t want to say anything, as he could tell you were nervous enough as it was, but he knew you well enough to know that you missed Mason almost as much as Mason missed you. You were quiet, reserved, not your usual bubbly self. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t been your usual bubbly self since the breakup. Ben knew you loved Mason, but he never thought the breakup would impact you as much as it did.

Before long, the car pulled up at Declan’s house. The nerves in the pit of your stomach started doing backflips as you went up to the front door. Loud bass was audible through the walls, and you could tell there was a large crowd already, even though it was early by most people’s standards. You just wanted to stay for a couple of hours at the most before quietly leaving, all ideally without seeing Mason.

That plan quickly went out the window when Declan opened the door, arm in arm with Mason.

‘Hey guys! Oh…’ Declan’s wide grin disappeared the minute he saw it was you and Ben, clearly thinking you were someone else. The awkwardness was palpable. ‘Hey Y/N, Ben, glad you guys could make it!’ Dec brought you in for a hug, whispering an ‘I’m so sorry’ in your ear as he did so.

‘Don’t worry,’ you replied in an equally quiet voice, hoping he could hear you over the music. The squeeze he gave you told you he had heard you.

You avoided Mason’s eyes completely as Ben and Declan caught up, Ben asking about life at Arsenal and how Declan was finding his new club.

‘I’m gonna get a drink, did you want anything?’ You asked Ben at a break in the conversation. Mason’s eyes raked over you as you got close to Ben, one of your hands absent-mindedly on his arm. Jealousy raged in his stomach.

‘Just a beer, please, gorgeous,’ Ben replied. His usual pet-name for you was innocuous for the both of you, but took on a whole new meaning in Mason’s head. Why was he calling you gorgeous? Why were you touching him? Were the tabloids correct? Had you gone for his former teammate in the wake of the breakup? Mason’s head was reeling.

You handed Ben his drink and wandered off to mingle with some of the Arsenal WAGS, introducing yourself to Martin Ødegaard’s new girlfriend and giving Milly, Ben White’s new wife, a big hug to congratulate her, as you hadn’t been able to attend the wedding.

Neither Declan or Ben missed the fact that Mason’s eyes rarely left your form for more than a few seconds as he watched you chat and catch up with some old friends.

‘How are you, Mase, United treating you well?’ Ben asked conversationally.

‘Yeah, ‘s alright.’ Eyebrows were raised at Mason’s curt tone. Ben and Declan exchanged confused glances, before leaving Mason to his thoughts and continuing into the party to see some of the other guys who had made an appearance. Mason was left with his thoughts as he stood and pondered his next move.

As he was doing so, he saw you excuse yourself from the small throng of people to head to the kitchen to scope out the buffet. He seized his opportunity and followed you into the kitchen.

What he couldn’t have known was that instead of grabbing something to eat, you were having to physically stop yourself from having a full-blown panic attack. Gripping the counter with your hands and keeping your head bowed, you focused on keeping your breathing deep.

You had no idea how many minutes had passed, but an all-to-familiar voice brought you back to earth with an almighty bump.

‘Y/N? You okay?’ You turned, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face with the person you never thought you’d see again. ‘Y/N?’ he asked again.

‘Y-yeah, I’m okay.’ You had suffered with anxiety and panic attacks throughout your relationship, and Mason had always known how to help you.

‘You sure?’ A deep, shaky breath rattled through your body. You both knew the after-effects of the panic attack were the worst part of it all. You would feel exhausted, ashamed, guilty… But he had always been there to help you through it all. He would offer you cuddles, a listening ear, a movie, whatever you needed.

Things were so different now, though. There was a rift the size of the Atlantic Ocean between you, and you didn’t know how to get across it.

‘Let’s get you somewhere quiet, come on.’ He hesitated, before holding out his hand for you to hold. ‘You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.’ But you realised you wanted to. You needed him, you needed his touch, his hold. You reached out and grabbed his hand, immediately feeling like you had been connected with the earth again.

He led you upstairs to one of the far guest rooms, opened the door and followed you in. You took a seat on the bed, fiddling with your hands in your lap. He sat on the floor in front of you, eyeing you carefully.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ You sighed. A big, deep sigh. Now that you had him in front of you, the questions you’d held in for a year were threatening to spill over.

‘Can I ask you something?’ The look on his face suggested that he knew what you were going to ask, but he nodded, all the same. ‘Why did you stop putting effort into our relationship? You always said that I was the love of your life, that I was it for you… what happened? What happened to us?’ He sighed, similar to how you had sighed earlier.

‘Honestly, Y/N, I don’t have a good reason. I wish I did, believe me, but I don’t. The media scrutiny, the fans giving me shit on social media, the move, everything to do with it, it all just got to me. I pushed you away without even realising and for that, I will never be able to apologise enough.’ You pondered his answer, and then debated asking a question you had longed to know the answer to since the day you left but were too scared to know the answer to.

Before you could ask it, though, Mason spoke up. ‘Are you seeing Ben?’ The gravity of his question made you pause.

‘What?’

‘Are you and Ben, you know, a thing?’ You shook your head.

‘No. He’s like a brother to me, Mase, you know that. All the boys are. When I met you, you gave me a whole new family I could only have dreamed of.’ Your eyes met again. His eyes hadn’t changed a bit. They were still the deep chocolate brown you’d found home in for all those years.

You climbed down from the bed and sat with your back to the bed. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to figure out how to ask the question you were starting to crave the answer to. You felt like the answer to it was yes, but you needed to be sure. Finally, you decided to just go for it.

‘Do you… do you still love me?’ The look on his face said it all. He was looking at you like he had never seen you before, as if you were the only woman in the entire world. And to him, you were. You were everything to him and he would be forever kicking himself for ever making you feel like you weren't. He scooted forward to crouch in front of you before gently holding your face with both hands.

‘Y/N Y/LN, of course I still love you. And if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my days loving and cherishing you the way you deserve. The way I should have shown you from day one.’ Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at the man who had your heart.

‘Of course, I’ll have you.’ You sat up and collapsed into his arms, finally feeling that you were home once again.

#mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount smut #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount oneshot #manchester united #chelsea fc #mason mount blurb #football imagines #footballer imagines

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 1 year

Text

Reluctant Protector | Din Djarin

Part 2 of 2

Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Summary: After being abandoned as a child, you grew up working for one of the most prolific crime lords in the galaxy in order to survive. It all comes crashing down as a split second decision has the Mandalorian hunting you. As it turns out, your hunter might be the only one who can save you. After all, the lines between predator and prey have always been blurred.

Warnings: angst (what's new), mild language, panic attack, violence, fluff, mentions of human trafficking (brief), Mando being a fool in love, adult themes throughout, happy ending (again, what's new)

A/N: This is part two to the request I mentioned! Once again, got carried away and I kinda love it, hope you love it too!

Part 1

You managed to wrestle off the growing panic attack for close to an hour after Din left.

You sat close to the child, reminding yourself that Din at the very least would not leave the youngling he protected so dearly. When your mind began to doubt even that certainty, you could not stop the flashbacks when they began. The scenes of that night you remembered so well began to torment you.

Flashes of your father’s last words, of his lies that your innocent being so willingly believed. Flashes of your mother’s absent gaze. Flashes of Vince swooping in to claim you.

Vince. Din had said it himself, the bounty was at an unbelievably high credit amount by now, and only a fool would keep helping a bounty that could fetch such a high price. This thought crumbled whatever little strongholds remained on your self control and you shot to your feet, garnering a confused babble from the kid.

“Stay here,” You breathlessly instructed, touching the blaster at your waist as you stumbled for the hatch.

You would not be left, not this time. Not again. Not when Din meant so much to you.

You made sure to close the hatch behind you to protect the youngling within and set off for the city beyond where Din had no doubt ventured to begin his hunt. Your vision was blurred with uncried tears, and your chest was ever so slowly constricting upon your heart and lungs. Your stomach twisted with nausea and breathing became a conscious chore as you grappled for sanity, for reality. You would find him, you decided. You would find him and help him on the hunt.

It was stupid and irrational to anyone else, but you were haunted by ghastly memories and scarred by trauma and it wasn’t stupid to you. All you could manage to think was that it would not happen again. You would not be left again.

Din Djarin

Din trailed his target from afar, his trained eyes tracking the bounty’s every move and interaction.

After close to an hour and a half, he’d finally managed to banish you from the center of his thoughts and instead focus on the task at hand. But even then, as he waited for the bounty to enter a vulnerable, isolated area where he could confront them, Din could not stop his mind from traipsing to the Vince situation.

You had been dragging your feet for weeks to come up with a solid plan to confront your old boss, and Din knew that it was because of the way you felt indebted to Vince for raising and protecting you all of those years. You had never mentioned how you’d come into his service, but Din knew well enough that Vince was the father figure in your life. As much as he wanted to let you have time to keep working through that struggle, Din knew that time was running out. The hunt for you was only intensifying, and soon enough the two of you wouldn’t be able to keep up this quiet lifestyle. You’d be on the run, and Din wanted nothing more than for you to be at peace.

He was so distracted by that thought that he hadn’t even noticed the growing commotion on the street below his perch until the scream of civilians and the crashing of metal and glass caught his attention. Din snapped his gaze down to the street only for his heart to drop straight to the floor.

Because there you were, sprinting as hard as you could away from a hunter with a tracking fob in their grasp.

Din instantly snapped into action, a nasty curse slipping past his lips as he dropped down from the roof he was crouching on and broke into a run. He cursed you in his head, furious that you’d left the safety of the Crest even when he’d told you not to.

“Move.” Din growled, shoving past patrons and bystanders as he sprinted after the trailing commotion of you and the bounty hunter.

Thinking quickly, Din took a shortcut through an alleyway. After scaling the wall at the end of it and dropping at the other side, he managed to emerge just ahead of your frantic escape. Adrenaline tangling with dread in his blood, he managed to grab ahold of your running form just as you sprinted past the alley’s opening. Whipping you inside, he had you pinned against the back wall with a hand at your mouth to silence you before you could even scream.

The panic in your eyes at the sudden movement lessened as your eyes focused on him, your body pinned snugly between the wall and his beskar-plated chest. This was the closest he had ever been to you, what with no space at all remaining between the two of you. If it were a different circumstance, Din’s mind would be clouded with thoughts of your body so close to his.

But there was a hunter after you, and for that reason alone Din forced himself to ignore the press of you against him.

Din could hear your voice muffled against his hand, but didn’t pay attention as he pressed closer to hide you and glanced out of the alley just as the bounty hunter jogged past. The hunter looked utterly confused, wondering where their bounty had just disappeared to.

Before the hunter could think again, Din had released you and rushed them. He grabbed the hunter and dragged them into the alley harsher than he had you, and just as he did, you whipped out your blaster and landed a fatal blow to the hunter’s chest. Din released the hunter, letting their body slump to the ground between the two of you. As a deafening silence settled over the absence of chaos, Din looked up from the hunter and to your trembling form.

He was furious.

You had almost gotten yourself captured, and he never would have known until he would have returned to the Crest after the hunt and seen you gone. The very thought had his throat closing in terror, and it was that terror that Din was able to blanket and express as rage to hide the blatant outpouring of how he really felt about you.

“Vaabir gar ganar a jaro?” Din raged, not even realizing the words were Mando’a until he saw the flash of confusion on your utterly perfect face that was contorted with an emotion Din was too angry to notice. He repeated, “Do you have a death wish?”

“Din, I-” You tried, your voice trembling almost as badly as your body.

“You could have gotten killed, or worse!” He shouted. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now, and in his horror-driven anger, he still hadn’t noticed. You had never heard him speak this loudly before.

“I-I’m sorry.” Your voice was frail and unsure, so unlike how you usually were, “You left me, and I didn’t…I didn’t know what to do.”

Din stormed forward, grabbing your arm firmly, but nowhere near painfully, “I said I was coming back! Why would you-”

Din’s words died on his tongue. Now that he was touching you, he finally noticed the tremors surging through your body. Like the plug of a drain had been pulled, his rage flooded away and he could no longer conceal the concern he harbored for you. Din examined your face for a moment and took in the faraway, haunted look in those stunning eyes of yours. He saw the way you weren’t fully present in this moment and he realized suddenly that you weren’t just scared, you were in the midst of some sort of panic attack.

“Cyar’ika, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Din’s voice was tender compared to the fury that had bridled it before. “You left me,” You repeated, ever so softly and brokenly, “You left me and I didn’t know if you were going to…going to…”

You couldn’t even get the words out, you were so badly shaken, and it broke something so deeply within Din. Suddenly, he couldn’t care less that you had almost been captured. All Din could think about right now was how to help you, how to bring you back to him.

In the darkness of the alley, Din brought his hands to your face. His thumbs ran along your tear-streaked cheeks and Din knew that the sight of your tears was one of the most rattling he’d ever encountered. He wished he could mark down every one of them and note where and who they came from so he could hunt them down and make them pay.

“What’s wrong, cyare? I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, sweetheart.”

Your hands grabbed onto Din’s arms as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. To Din, it almost seemed as though you were holding onto him as if your life depended on it.

“You can’t leave me too,” You finally managed to gasp out, your large, panicked eyes rising to meet his through his mask, “You can’t leave me too.”

The very thought of leaving you made his stomach turn and Din instantly let go of you just so he could tug you close to his body. He’d never wanted to take off his armor as badly as right now. He wanted to pull you closer, closer than the beskar allowed. The way you instantly crumbled into him made his heart shatter, and it killed him not to understand why someone so fortified and seemingly unshakable was so utterly terrified.

“I’m not gonna leave you, cyar’ika,” Din mumbled, rooting one of his hands through your hair to hold you closer to his chest, “I’m not gonna ever leave you.”

In that moment, Din forgot everything else besides what it felt like to have you in his arms. He wished that it could last forever, but he knew that this was only a temporary fix to whatever was happening to you. Besides, the longer you were out here, the more likely it was that another hunter followed a tracking fob here and found you.

“Come on, let’s get back to the Crest,” Din softly urged, pulling back but not daring to let go of you. Instead, he kept his arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he led you back to the Crest.

He needed answers. He needed to know what had caused you to be in such distress.

|||

Your POV

It had been nearly three hours since the incident in the town today.

In the time that followed, Din had gotten you back to the Crest and launched you immediately off of the planet and into a far corner of the galaxy from Serreno.

Once he was sure you were far from the planet you’d just been tracked down to, he left the cockpit and settled you onto the cot in your room with a blanket around your shoulders. He left only for a handful of minutes before he was back with a steaming mug of soothing tea. Then, he simply sat down beside you in silence, allowing you to soak in his presence and strength until you felt ready to speak.

Now, hours past the episode earlier, you finally had worked up the courage to speak to him.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” You mumbled, not being able to meet the Mandalorian’s gaze, “I know I jeopardized all of our safety by leaving and I know I should have listened-”

“Hey, stop that,” Din interrupted, making your rambling instantly stop. You kept your gaze firmly down on your lap and you heard him sigh from beside you, “Look at me, cyar’ika.”

Cyar’ika. You weren’t entirely sure what the word meant in the common tongue, but coming from Din it sent warmth spiraling through you. Din surprised you by gently grabbing your chin and turning your face to meet his.

“I’m not mad at you. I was just…scared.”

The rumble of his voice grounded you, and as he dropped his hand from your chin you almost reached out to stop him.

One vulnerable moment passed by and you sighed deeply, “I was too.”

That was what Din had been waiting for, you could tell by the way his entire body seemed to stiffen. With intrigue that he could not hide well, he tilted his head at you.

“Why?”

The question jolted through you even though you had known it would be coming. You peered deeply into the depths of his mask that had become a safe haven to you, and you made a choice.

“My parents abandoned me when I was seven years old,” You started. And when the Mandalorian bounty hunter, perhaps the most intimidating person you’d ever met, reached over and took your hand in his, you had the strength to keep speaking.

You told him everything. Afterwards, as you lay staring up at your ceiling that night, you realized just exactly what Din Djarin meant to you.

And you were finally ready to let go of Vince Hanon.

|||

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

The Mandalorian’s voice rang with uncertainty just as you finished rigging up the comlink with an untraceable chip, just as Vince taught you as a child.

“Have a little faith in me,” You quipped, glancing up at Din as you leaned back in your chair sat across from him with the rigged comlink between you, “I know Vince Hanon better than anyone. It will work.”

Din sighed, resting back in his chair and propping one arm up on the side of it, “As long as that comlink won’t lead him right to us, I guess nothing bad can come of a conversation.”

“I’ve been rigging coms since I was eleven, Mando. This baby is untraceable,” You assured, savoring his low laugh in response. The two of you sat in Peli’s hanger on Tatooine. You had met her only a week ago, and yet she’d taken quickly to you. Already, you felt the familiar ache in your chest every time you had to leave just as you began to make a friend.

You couldn’t allow yourself to think that way, not right now. So. you sucked in a deep breath and leaned forward, activating the comlink. A series of beeps sounded out as you typed Vince’s connection swiftly into the com and then…silence.

Silence.

And then…

“I have to admit, Prodigy. It took you longer than I originally bet to contact me. I’m impressed.”

As Vince’s voice wafted out of the comlink and stung your ears, you had to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking apart all over again. In a moment, you had your composure back and leaned forward, feeling the intense gaze of Din all the while.

“What else did you bet on concerning me, Vince? I’m sure you’ve lost more than a few up to this point.” Your voice was sharp and light, and you hoped Vince did not see through the ruse and notice how frantic you really were within.

His laugh barked through the comlink, setting you slightly at ease. At least he wasn’t yelling. Yet.

“Good to hear you haven’t changed,” Vince mused.

“You’d be surprised,” You bit out. On the other end, Vince hummed in response.

“Tell me, my prodigy. What is it that pushed you to contact me now, after months of running?”

“It’s just that,” You replied, your heart now ricocheting in your chest. This was it. What came next were the lies, and you hoped and prayed that he would buy them, “I’m tired of running. I want to know what it’s going to take for you to end this, to let all of this stop.”

“Aw, now tell me the truth darling,” Vince tsked, and you nearly lost your cool as you waited in dread-filled anticipation for what he would say next, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that Mandalorian that you’ve had as your guard dog, now would it?”

You made sure to wait a beat to respond, “He left me on Serenno. Now I’m on my own, and I think we both know how long I’ll last like that.”

There was another pause, and your mind was racing with the possibilities of what would happen should he not believe you.

Vince sounded humored when he finally responded, “He left you. I’m sorry child, but I’m starting to see a pattern here. First your parents, and now your bounty hunter.”

“Watch your mouth, Vince.” Your anger was not forced.

“Oh, I struck a chord there.” Then he paused again, and laughed suddenly into the silence, “Oh no, please don’t tell me you grew to care for this bounty hunter.”

Suddenly, Din’s gaze on you was burning hot and your heart missed more than one beat. You had to grapple to keep your composure, for it felt almost exposing to have this topic brought up when you knew you wouldn’t have to lie as much.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He left, and now I need to know what it’s going to take for you to end this hunt,” You gritted out.

“Come back to me, then I’ll call it off.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Not a chance,” You assured, your pulse racing a bit faster, “You’re a businessman, Vince. Let’s make a deal.”

This was it. That was the bait, now you just had to wait and see if he’d take it.

And if you knew anything about Vince Hanon, you knew that he couldn’t deal over a comlink.

“Tempting,” He pondered, seeming to pause to consider the trap laid before him. You were sure he considered that possibility, that the Mandalorian had not left and you were setting him up, which you were. Luckily for you, Vince Hanon had always underestimated you.

“Tell you what,” Vince finally decided, making you sit up a bit straighter and look over at Din briefly in anticipation, “Come back to homebase, alone. We’ll talk and see if we can’t come up with something.”

“And how am I supposed to be sure you’re not going to attack me as soon as I do?” I questioned in return. Vince laughed heartily across the comlink.

“Oh how I’ve missed you, my prodigy,” Vince chuckled, sighing to himself, “We’ll make it a neutral zone. You have my word if I have yours.”

You knew he was lying, but you could lie too.

“Done,” You reply.

“Good,” Vince purred, his voice making your stomach turn, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have missed you.”

That was the one part that you could not be sure was a lie or not.

“See you then,” Was all you said in response before shutting off the comlink and sitting back with a huff of relief. After a brief pause of silence, you glanced up to see Din already looking at you.

“Told you it would work.”

Din nodded, standing up from his spot across from you, “Now for the hard part.”

The two of you had walked through this plan at least a hundred times in the last week. It was simple. Get access to Vince’s homebase, get him to talk with you, and then, when his guard was down, Din would come in through one of the secret passages only you and Vince knew about and help you end this for good.

You stood as Din made his way over to you and handed you a small pouch heavy with metal, “Here’s enough credits to get a ship. There’s a shipyard a couple hundred paces from where we’re docked. Get one and head straight for the homebase. I’ll trail you there tomorrow morning.” You accepted the credits gratefully and nodded, “Remember, be careful. Vince will have all of his outposts looking for you. He doesn’t trust me anymore, he’ll be expecting you.”

Din nodded stiffly, “I’ll make sure the kid is safe with Peli before I leave.”

You nodded in return, and the two of you stood there in tense silence for a moment. You both knew what was coming next, and you both knew the risks.

“It’s gonna work. I know it will,” Din assured. You took in a deep breath, your brows drawn in worry as you met his gaze through the dark of his mask.

“It has to.” You suddenly were slammed with a piercing ache in your chest as you realized this was a goodbye. Even if it was just for now, it scared the hell out of you.

You didn’t want to leave him.

Without uttering another word, Din stepped forward and tugged you close to him. He seldom hugged anyone, and had only done so once with you when you had completely broken down before him on Serenno. Now here he was, holding you just as close as you were holding him.

“Thank you,” You breathed, not moving back an inch, “For everything. I could never repay you for all of this.”

“You’re not gonna pay me for helping you. I’m not in this for a profit.” He rumbled, and his voice once again reminded you of what home really was, “If I was, I would’ve turned you in months ago.”

A surprised laugh broke through you and you stepped back, reluctantly pulling yourself out of his arms, “Another joke, this is becoming a new habit.”

“Only for you, cyar’ika.” His voice was like honey to your soul and you were reminded of how addicted you were.

How in the hell did this happen? When you first met him, he was a hunter and you were his bounty. He then became your reluctant protector, which you could understand enough, but now….Somehow Din Djarin went from a reluctant protector to the one person who made you believe in fate.

“Be safe, Din.” You instructed as you slowly walked back.

“You too.”

And then you left, turning around and heading for the shipyard he pointed out. As you did, your heart stayed right there with the beskar-coated Mandalorian.

His hands were safe, they would protect your heart. Even if he wasn’t aware he had it yet.

|||

Walking back along Vince’s turf, you realized just how many scars you bore from this place.

Some were physical, but most were internal. Either way, those scars reminded you of the caution you needed to proceed with and exactly what was at stake. Those scars helped you walk with assurance into the mansion that you had fled from what felt like a lifetime ago.

“There you are! The lost child finally comes home.” Vince’s voice echoed through the halls of his mansion, making adrenaline spike instantly through your veins. The crime boss walked to meet you in the foyer of the mansion, his lips alight with a smirk but his eyes uneasy.

“She came alone, sir,” One of the five guards with you reported, before holding up a single blaster gifted to you by Din, “She was armed only with this.”

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, prodigy?” Vince mused, taking the blaster and examining it for a moment before tossing it aside. The metal guns slid across the polished floor.

“Five guards, is that really necessary Vince?” You inquired, gesturing to the five hulking members of Vince’s crime organization around you. All of them were familiar to you. In fact, you were close friends with most of them before your fallout with Vince. To be on the other side of this was about as unpleasant as you assumed it would be

“As I said, you are full of surprises. I had to be sure you would hold up the neutral zone,” Your old boss replied, examining you closely for a moment before turning and leading you off into the mansion you knew like the back of your hand, “Come. Let’s find a place to talk.”

Vince led you off into the bulking facility, finally guiding you into the massive conference room where he holds most of his meetings. The room sat near the highest floor of the mansion and jutted out the side, leaving nothing between you and the floor hundreds of feet below except for a solid, metal floor.

To fully convey the type of business meetings Vince held here, there was a large, circular hole in the middle of the floor near where Vince finally stopped walking. Air roared in through the hole, and you didn’t have to question what it was for. You’d seen Vince use it before when clients were being…less than compliant. The drop was fatal, and there was no one who had ever survived it.

“Now, you wanted to talk so badly. So talk, child.” Vince announced, turning to you with an almost taunting gaze.

You wasted no time getting to the point, “What is it going to take for you to stop this hunt?”

“Woah now,” Vince chuckled, clasping his hands before himself, “Let’s ease into this. First, I have a question I have just been dying to ask you.”

He took your silence that followed as a sign to continue on, “Just how did you manage to get the Mandalorian bounty hunter to be your loyal guardian?”

“I don’t know why he did it,” You responded truthfully. You left it at that, not wanting to do the ‘small talk’ thing with Vince.

“I mean, it really is quite interesting. A bounty hunter as respectable as the Mandalorian tracks you down, but instead of cashing in my generous bounty, he helps you evade me. Then again, you always did know how to sweet talk, didn’t you?”

His words bit into you and you absorbed them with as much composure as you could. Surprisingly, you found that they did not hurt you as much as they would have months ago. Vince’s words are beginning to mean less to you with every passing day.

“Get to the point, Vince.” You drawled out. He is unfazed by your words and continues on his tangent as he often does.

“What really boggles me, though, is that he just left. He didn’t cash in your bounty, he just…left. Why is that?” Vince presses, looking like a cat that has caught a mouse in a trap. You refused to be trapped, though, and didn't cower away.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Vince hummed to himself, his eyes seeming to pierce straight through you, “So you do care for him, then.”

That took you by surprise, but you absorbed it as best as you could.

“Until he left me,” You admitted, deciding to allow Vince a hint of truth caught in the lies you were spinning, “But I guess you and I both have a habit of caring for people we probably shouldn’t.”

Finally, you were able to catch him by surprise with your biting retort. Even the guards around you seemed to take in a collective, sharp gasp. Vince’s gaze faltered, and you could see the fury he kept well-hidden behind his smirks and calm facade.

“You wanted to do business, so let’s do business,” He averted, and you took the small victory his avoidance indicated.

“I’ll call the hunt off with one condition. Come back to work for me, and all will be forgiven.” This time, you actually laughed.

“You’re kidding, right?” You retorted, looking at Vince as though he was insane, “I came here to compromise. You want me to work for you again, but I never will. Now, we have to find a common ground. We have to make a deal.”

“I’ve taught you well,” The crime boss admitted. All the while, your mind was split. You knew that Din was somewhere close by right about now, and you would only need to stall for a little while longer before he showed up.

“What do you propose?” You pushed, needed to continue the conversation to give Din more time to get into the mansion. Vince paused for a long while, and the guards around began to get antsy in the silence. They shifted from foot to foot before finally Vince broke the silence.

“Here is your deal,” He finally spoke, his eyes lit up with excitement as he surveyed you, “I will give you a test. If you pass, I’ll call off the bounty. I’ll even publicly announce a penalty if anyone still pursues to take or harm you.”

You went to respond when he pressed on, “And you will have your freedom from me.”

This was where you faltered. You knew that Din was close and that soon enough everything you were dealing with Vince would not even matter, but his offer still made you pause. Interested, you couldn’t help but take the bait.

“What’s the test?” You asked warily.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Vince hummed, shaking his head at you, “You’ll have to take the deal before I tell you.”

That was a dangerous game. You had no idea what his ‘test’ was, and you knew that whatever it was would not be pleasant. But, you were running out of time to stall Vince and you needed to buy Din more time.

So, you did exactly what he wanted you to do. Din would be here soon anyways, what would the deal really stand for?

“Deal,” You agreed. You watched surprise flicker across Vince’s features. He hadn’t expected you to agree so easily. Looking all too pleased with himself, Vince clapped his hands together.

“Wonderful!” He turned to gesture to two of the five guards surrounding the room, “Please bring in our test.”

The two guards spared you a long glance, and in that glance you noticed a shred of pity. These were people you grew up around, people whose lives you’d saved and who had saved yours. To see them hesitant to do Vince’s bidding made you even more uneasy, but it brought you a shred of hope. If these guards still shared a thread of loyalty to you, maybe they would not kill you if it came to that.

You were so focused on thinking about your own survival that you didn't even realize the guards were dragging someone, not something, into the conference room until a glint of light on metal caught your eye.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you looked up, because there he was. Your Mandelorian. He was in cuffs, stripped of his weapons, positioned right near the open hole in the floor, and…

A gasp left your lips and before you could register what was happening your eyes were locking with his. Not his mask, with his eyes. They took his helmet off, and now you were looking at Din Djarin’s face.

You allowed yourself one selfish second of taking in the sheer rugged beauty of his features that nearly knocked you off of your feet before you forced your eyes to train on Vince. If you closed your eyes like you wanted to, it would give away too easily just how deeply you cared for Mando. You didn’t want to shatter his anonymity, but you knew there was no escaping it. That didn’t stop the guilt that shriveled in your gut, or the memory of those piercing brown eyes that was being burned into your brain.

“What the hell is he doing here?” You asked, masking your sudden, rising panic with feigned anger. Vince looked all too smug as he waltzed over to Din and placed a hand on his beskar-armored shoulder. His face was drawing you in like a magnet, but you forced yourself not to look. Din didn’t choose to do this, to break his code and his way of life, you couldn’t violate him like that.

No matter how badly you wanted to see his breathtaking face again.

“I caught him on the outskirts of my mansion,” Vince replied, making you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from flinching or showing your terror, “Which is interesting since you just said that he had left you.”

“He did,” You asserted, not fully being able to hide the tremble in your voice, “On Serreno. I don’t know why he’s here.”

Vince laughed at that, “Oh I have a few ideas. Your freedom depends on which one of them is true.”

“What’s the test?” You gritted out, your heart beginning to keep an irregular beat.

“The test is simple,” Vince announced, walking away from Din who was surrounded by two of the three guards and approaching you, “Prove to me that you do not care for the Mandalorian.”

“What?” you breathed out, growing more and more erratic with each passing moment. Vince just kept on smiling

“Prove to me that he means nothing to you. Prove that he’s not here because he never left you at all and this is all a trap for me. Prove that you do not care for him.” His words were dripping with arrogance, but you knew Vince Hanon well enough to see the truth. His words rang with jealousy.

Vince could not stand the very thought that you could care for someone who was not him. He wanted to be the only person you truly cared about, he wanted you to love him like a little girl would her father, he wanted you to love him like he loved you.

But a father would never do this, and this wasn’t love.

You had always wanted to love Vidar like you saw other children love their parents. You wanted him to be the father you had lost so badly that you were willing to convince yourself that he really cared and that you did too. You both had been lying to yourselves, but it was too late now.

Now, you had to play along and find a way to save the one person you truly cared for.

“How?” You asked, trying to look as calm as you could. Vince seemed surprised by your sudden shift in character and seemed to lower his guard for a moment. He grabbed the blaster the guards had confiscated from you and shoved it into your hands.

“Take this, and shoot your Mandalorian in the head.”

Your world seemed to stop as you simply stared down at the gun in your hands. No longer being able to avoid it, you gave in to your desires and looked up to lock eyes with Din. He was already staring right at you, so as soon as your eyes met, something broke within your gaze so that only Din could see it.

He was so so handsome, and you realized that they had taken off his helmet not just to allow you to shoot him, but to try and shake you as well. Before you could even turn the blaster on Vince, your boss interrupted, “And don’t even think about shooting me instead. If you do, Mando here will be dead before I can even hit the ground.”

On cue, the two guards who you were raised with lifted their blasters to point at Din from either side. True helplessness welled up in your gut. There was no way out of this. There was no way you could save him without giving yourself up.

As you raised your blaster to point at Din’s head, you knew you couldn’t do it. Din saw the brief flash of defeat flicker through your gaze, and his features went from nervous to utterly frantic. He didn’t dare say a word, but he shook his head the slightest bit. His intentions were clear.

Do it, Din was practically screaming at you, Kill me. Don’t go back to Vince.

The blaster shook in your hands, and you once again saw the pity on the guards' faces as tears blurred your vision. With every moment that passed, your facade crumbled. It was plain to anyone in the room that you were moments from agreeing to go back to Vince, and Din was growing more and more restless.

“Come on,” Din breathed, so low you could barely hear it.

Your heart was shattering within your chest and a single tear managed to slip down. That was your tipping point, and you no longer tried to hide the quivering of the blaster in your hands. Din’s gaze was growing desperate the more distraught you became, for he knew exactly what you were going to do to save his life.

In an act of pure defeat, you dropped the blaster with hot tears already slipping past your defenses. Din struggled slightly against the vice grips the two guards had on him, and it only deepened the crack opening in your chest. When your eyes clashed with his, you knew this was it.

You looked over to Vince, not able to look at the despair in Din’s gaze. Just as you were about to say you were going to go back to Vince, you noticed the twitch of pure rage across your old boss’s features. There was a flicker of jealousy that quickly followed, and then, quicker than you could stop it, Vince took a step closer to Din.

“Always have to do it myself,” Vince spat, turning to the Mandalorian and kicking him squarely in the chest.

You gasped in horror as Din’s eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards towards the opening in the floor leading to a couple hundred foot drop.

“NO!” You cried out, shoving away from the guards around you and tossing the blaster aside. The only thing you could see was the Mandalorian falling without his jetpack that they no doubt stripped from him.

You sprinted as hard as you could, and before anyone could stop you, you dove and slid across the hard floor. You slowed to stop at the edge of the hole and threw your arm down, managing to latch onto the cuffs bracing Din’s arms just as he fell through.

The weight of Din snapped you forward towards the hole, and you had just enough time to brace a foot against the lip of the hole as you held fast to your Mandalorian. Your soul-sighing relief at catching him did not last long when his weight held by one of your hands on his cuffs dislocated your shoulder with a sickening crunch.

Your scream of agony echoed through the meeting room, and you managed to pry open your eyes to peer down at Din through the roaring of wind. Your eyes met his as he dangled hundreds of feet above the ground, the only thing keeping him alive being your already-weakening hand secured to his restraints.

“Din,” You breathed, your tears falling down into the wind.

The horrifying sound of cracking metal made you snap your attention to his restraints. Under his weight, they were beginning to bend and fail.

“You gotta let me go,” Din choked out, and more tears fell on cue. You shook your head almost violently, your vision dotting with white amidst the blinding pain.

“Help him!” You begged, your voice raw and cracking, “Help him, please!”

One of the guards moved to help you, but Vince stopped them with one raised hand, “I will. If you agree to rejoin my organization.”

“No!” Din’s sudden shout, something extremely rare for the Mandalorian, took you by utter surprise, “Don’t. Please.”

More cracking sounded from his restraints, and in a matter of seconds, the metal binding his hands together had begun to snap apart. You had enough time to latch onto one of his wrists just as the restraint integrity failed and snapped apart, but the weight of holding him by one hand only now nearly tore you apart in anguish.

You couldn’t lift him on your own, not with your shoulder in this state. You couldn’t save him, not without damning yourself.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, looking down at the man who had saved your life.

“Cyar’ika please, don’t do this. Just let me go,” Din pleaded.

You could tell that he was trying to pry his hand free from yours to make the choice for you, but you held fast to his wrist.

“I can’t.” Your breath was almost lost to the wind, but it was loud enough for Vince and his men when you spoke next.

“I’ll do it, I’ll come back to you! Just help him.” And with that, your fate was sealed.

The guards sprung into action, darting forward and grabbing onto the Mandalorian and tugging him out of the hole. Relief danced with misery in your chest as you helped drag him fully out. As soon as his body was out, Din slid away from the drop off and tugged your body instantly into his.

You melted into him, dropping your head into the crook of his neck and savoring the feel of his stubble. One of his arms was wrapped around your back diagonally, holding you impossibly close. With the other, he gently prodded your injured shoulder. You hissed instantly in pain, wincing as his fingers danced across it.

“I know, darling. I know,” Din murmured, then held you closer as he quickly and expertly relocated your shoulder. Your cry of pain was short and immediately chased with a relief of pressure that made you drop further into him. One of his hands found your jaw and angled your face so your forehead was pressed against his.

Skin on skin, breaths mingling—it would be heaven if you didn’t know the hell of saying goodbye was on the horizon.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, not caring what the two of you looked like to everyone else in the room with you practically in his lap, “I’m so sorry.”

“None of that,” Din urged, his nose brushing yours, “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

There was such defeat in his tone that it tore you apart. There was so much you hadn’t told him, so much he didn’t know about how you felt about him. You did not have to look around to know that the five guards who were once your family were watching the ordeal with a somber facade.

“Din-”

“I know,” He whispered, his lips brushing yours and sending electricity crackling through your body.

You knew Vince was watching your every movement and you knew that if he was jealous before, he’d kill you for this, but you did not care. All you cared about was that the Mandalorian was holding you close and his lips were so close to yours that they almost touched.

So you leaned forward and pressed a feather light kiss to his lips.

You wanted more, and you could tell from the way Din almost chased your lips after you pulled away that he did too. You couldn’t, though. Not if you didn’t want Vince to kill him. But that one small, fleeting kiss was enough to ignite you, to strengthen you, to forever rip you apart. A confirmation of what was swirling in your chest and a reminder of what now could never be.

It was Vince Hanon’s voice that broke the silence, but not in the way you expected him to.

“You love him.” Not a question, a statement.

The words jolted through you, but you accepted them with a bittersweet ache of your chest. You locked your gaze with the dark brown eyes of the Mandalorian and nodded, “I do.”

Those two words seemed to shatter whatever was left in the depths of those brown eyes. There was a solemn silence that followed your response, and when Vince spoke next, it was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“Take him and go.”

Not daring to hope in the words just uttered, you swiveled around to lock your gaze with the equally broken one of your old boss. Vince Hanon looked down at you and for once, you could see a flicker of the love of a father in his torn eyes.

“What?” You breathed. Vince swallowed hard and held his jaw tightly.

“Take him and go,” He repeated, his eyes softening upon the closest thing to a family that Vince had ever known, “You’re free.”

Not waiting to see if he would change his mind, Mando and you managed to climb to your feet. Instantly, you looked to the nearest guard who looked at you with…happiness.

“His helmet and jetpack,” You inquire, to which the guard nods and jogs away to go and grab Din’s belongings. The Mandalorian’s hand dropped to grab onto yours and you looked over at him with a bright, uncontrolled smile. You didn’t know if you were going to be able to see his face at the end of this, so you tried to capture every detail.

“Didn’t I tell you that it was all going to work-”

Your words were cut off sharply by the sound of a blaster followed by the explosion of searing heat through your upper torso.

Bits of blood and seared flesh splattered across the beskar armor of the Mandalorian as, in the split second of happiness you both had allowed, Vince had changed his mind, and the love in his eyes had melted away as he lowered his smoking blaster. Your sharp groan of pain splintered through the shocked air, and your wide eyes met the petrified, fury-lined gaze of the Mandalorian.

“Y/N,” Din breathed, his arm circling your waist as you collapsed into him, “Y/N stay with me. Stay with me!”

His frantic voice was dulled in your ears as you slipped down to the floor. He followed you, cradling your body into his lap as your organs slowly began to shut down in the shock of the injury. Your breath came in gasps and you couldn’t seem to fill your lungs no matter how hard you tried. You managed to look over to Vince, who stared down at you in furious, jealous determination.

In his eyes you saw the answer to why he’d taken back his word—If I can’t have you, then neither can he.

“Kill the Mandalorian and dispose of the bodies,” Vince ordered flippantly, an ice cold wall slamming down within his mind.

You clutched Din’s hand tightly, your half-lidded gaze slipping up to his. Not even thinking twice, Din held you close and shielded your body with his. It wouldn’t do much—you were already dying. You were going to die with him in his arms, and you could think of no better way to go. Just as you braced for the blaster shots, you heard the click of metal followed by an astonished gasp. Slowly, Din moved away from you and you heard him release a low, shaking breath. In your half-delirious state, you managed to look over to the source of the commotion.

There was Vince Hanon, standing in shocked outrage as the five guards he’d just ordered to finish you and Din off now stood with their weapons pointed at Vince.

“Sorry boss,” One bit out, his chin lifted high as he defended you, “This one’s personal.”

At the rollercoaster of grief to panic to relief and back, your body slumped further into Din now that you knew the two of you were safe.

Well, at least he was.

“Get the med kit!” Din shouted to one of the guards, who readily sped off to the corner of the meeting room and grabbed the bacta kit that was kept there for emergencies. Din looked back to you, running his hand along your hair, “You’re gonna be okay, cyare. You’re gonna make it.”

“Can we go home now?” You breathed, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment. Din nodded, running a finger along your cheek.

“We’re gonna go home,” He vowed.

It was his vow that allowed you to blissfully drift into the comfort the darkness brought you.

|||

Arriving into consciousness was a series of steps.

You remembered flashes of light and sound and beskar steel all wrapped in darkness and sleep. There were groggy memories of strong hands and whispered vows as you slowly ascended back into the waking world.

When you finally awoke, you barely felt the pain you’d fallen asleep with.

As you slowly sat up, one hand braced against your barely tender and mostly healed torso, you took in the familiar surroundings of the Crest. With furrowed brows, you glanced around the small cramped room that had been yours during your months with the Mandalorian.

Din.

The thought shot you out of your half-awake stupor, your mind sharpening at the chaotic memories that infiltrated it. You and Din had survived. You had escaped Vince and you survived.

Even though a part of you wanted to crawl back into bed and delay whatever conversation was coming, you forced yourself to stand on wavering feet. Instantly, you could feel the ache of the shoulder you had dislocated and a slight burn of pain where you had been shot.

With more strength than you previously thought you’d have, you stumbled out of your room and into the hull of the ship. The space was empty, but you heard the wafting of a voice from the cockpit above. So, gathering what little strength you had, you managed to make it up the ladder and up into the cockpit. As you swayed to your feet on the solid floor, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Din sitting in the pilot’s chair with the youngling beside him.

“I don’t know, kid,” You heard him sigh, turning from the child to look out the front of the ship and into the space beyond, “She’s been out for three days. She should be awake soon.”

His voice was unsure, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your beskar-plated protector. The child noticed you before Din could, and his large dark eyes connected on you. The youngling let out an excited squeal and jumped down from his chair, scurrying over to you.

“Hey kid what are you-”

Din’s voice cut off sharply when he heard your laugh and turned to see you hoisting the small, green child into your arms, “I missed you too, buddy.”

You smiled sweetly down at the youngling who nuzzled into you, melting your heart as you held him close. Even though your gaze was down on the kid, you could feel Din’s burning stare on you. Looking up, you smiled at the sight of that familiar helmet.

“Morning,” You greeted. When Din slowly stood and said nothing, you gently set down the kid. You saw him take a shuddering breath, almost unnoticeable if he wasn’t the sole focus of your attention.

“You shouldn’t have come up the ladder, could’ve gotten hurt.” Was all he said. You laughed softly.

“I think a fall from a small ladder would be the least of my injuries right now,” You pointed out. There was a dragging silence that followed, and your smile faded. There was no avoiding the conversation to come, “Din, I’m so sorry. So many things went wrong back there and I-”

Din just shook his head and moved so swiftly that it made your words stutter in shock. Before you could finish your apology, Din was pulling you into him. His grip was firm, but gentle around your injured shoulder. Now that he was touching you, you could feel the tremble of his hands.

“I almost lost you,” He mumbled. Sudden, hot tears sprung to life in your eyes.

“I almost lost you,” You reminded, holding him a bit tighter, “How am I alive?”

“Right after the shot, Vince’s guards helped stabilize you with bacta before we could get you to a chamber.”

You nodded, your throat nearly closing up at the thought of Vince’s guards turning on him. Now that your mind was upon the subject, you mumbled against Din’s chest, “And Vince?”

“His guards turned him over to the New Republic on attempted murder charges. They’re bringing the whole organization down.” Din answered, one of his hands stroking your hair.

You thought that hearing those words would burden you with guilt or haunt you with sour memories. But, for the first time since Vince took you in at seven years old, something within you could rest. It was over. The pain, the loneliness, the obligation to serve a man who you felt indebted to—all of it was over.

Before you could reply, Din swiftly pulled back and slid his hands to cup your cheeks. Your heart missed two separate beats before it settled back into rhythm.

“Next time your life and mine are on the line, let me die.” It was not a suggestion, it was an order.

“I can’t do that,” You all but whispered. He shook his head vehemently.

“Let. Me. Die. Are we clear?” Din repeated, no room for negotiation in his tone. You held his gaze through the beskar helmet for a long pause before a sad look passed through your gaze. You were transparent, and you knew there was no longer anything you could hide from him.

“Let’s hope we’re never put in that position again,” Was all you could respond with that would be true. Din just shook his head at you, releasing your face and mumbling something beneath his breath about ‘stubborn’ and ‘head-strong’.

“If you were in my position, would you not have done the same thing?” You couldn’t stop the question, and even though you hid your curiosity with a scoff, the question burned in your mind.

Would he? You were almost positive that he would have, but you needed him to say it. You needed to know that you weren’t being delusional in the heat of a chaotic moment.

You needed to know if what you felt was shared by him.

The question seemed to catch the Mandalorian’s attention and he sighed, reaching up a hand to trace it along your cheekbone, “In a heartbeat. Cyar’ika, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

For a moment, you swore your heart stopped beating. The two of you were dancing around what was at the forefront of both of your minds, but you couldn’t last out much longer. As you stared into the shining beskar of his helmet, you remembered the features of his face. His rugged jaw and kind, brown eyes. You remembered it all.

“How the hell did we get here?” You breathed, smiling up at Din softly. He let out a slightly trembling breath.

“I don’t know,” Din replied, swiping his thumb across your cheek again before settling his hand under your jaw, “But I think I was made to love you.”

If your heart stuttered before, it gave out completely now. For a moment, the only thing left in the galaxy was you and him and the youngling staring up at the two of you with large, curious eyes. You were where you belonged. Smiling, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the cool metal of his helmet.

“I love you too,” You whispered, walking past him and settling into the seat beside him. As you did, the youngling walked up and jumped into your lap, making you giggle softly, “Where to, Mando?”

Din, almost seeming dazed, stumbled slightly to his chair and sat heavily. You chuckled at him as he fumbled with the controls for a moment before he cleared his throat and seemed to gain his composure.

“I need to find more of my kind to help with the kid,” Din replied, looking over to the small green child sitting in your lap.

“Well then,” You sighed contently, strapping yourself into the chair and making sure to secure the child, “Let’s go find them.”

Din reached out a hand and grazed yours with it, holding it for a moment before turning to the control panel and punching coordinates. As you watched him, you knew you could do this forever.

You still didn’t quite understand what could make two unlikely paths tangle. After all, you never should have met the Mandalorian. And even when you had, he was meant to be your reaper, your reckoning.

Instead, he had become your everything.

And if you had to endure your parents’ abandonment a thousand times over just to meet Din Djarin, you would do it with glee.

Over and over and over again.

#din djarin #din djarin angst #din djarin oneshot #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #angst #fluff #star wars #din x reader #din djaren #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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myenterpriseisparked · 10 months

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Rank the Star Trek captains based on whether or not they're expert road trippers

Archer - He tries. So hard. He burns a CD mixtape to listen to and rents a huge RV that only kind of works. He plans out a bunch of stops but "leaves room in the schedule for unplanned adventures :)" and then proceeds to not follow the plan at all and everything goes wrong. Actually, now that I think about it, Archer on a roadtrip would probably just mostly be the plot of the movie "RV."

Pike - He lets Una plan the stops and he METICULOUSLY plans the food. He and Una take a survey about what all their crew wants to see along the way and try so hard to integrate them all into the trip. He plays LOTS of car games, like Eye Spy or that one game where you count animals on your side of the vehicle until you see a graveyard and have to start over or that other game where you describe a movie plot badly and everyone has to guess what it is. He lets Uhura control the music and Spock read the map and Ortegas drive. The plan for the trip goes off the rails, of course, but everyone ends up having a blast anyway. Overall a SOLID roadtrip.

Kirk - Kirk takes everyone to see every single tourist trap they can find and, you know what? It's fun. Is the World's Largest Truckstop really all that special? No, but the memories they make there are. I also imagine his roadtrip largely takes place in Iowa and other parts of the Midwest so a lot of the trip is rolling cornfields. Overall not a terrible trip, if a little slow and nutty.

Picard - Due to being European, Picard's idea of a roadtrip is a little... different. The crew is a little confused as to why they are only doing about 3 hours of driving a day, but they do appreciate that it's through Wine Country, where the rolling hills are lovely. I imagine Picard plans a "themed trip" (wine tasting and touring) and Riker is the one to throw in the fun tourist traps they do end up visiting. Q is somehow at every single place they stop. Lwaxana is at a few of them too.

Sisko - Sisko takes everyone on a tour of the MLB baseball fields. He meticulously plans places to eat (mostly cajun places that he critiques as 'not as good as his dad's, but acceptable.') and fields to visit. In the meantime, Jadzia picks some more... colorful places to visit in the evenings. Different groups of people get lost but they always find each other. Everyone is a little wary of visiting baseball fields, but once they find out that it was Jake's idea to cheer his dad up, everyone acts like each field is the most fascinating thing they have ever seen. In the end, the trip is a little tedious, but they have all bonded over the solidarity of making Sisko feel better.

Janeway - Janeway drives through the middle of nowhere. Absolutely no cell signal ever. Google Maps will not work. They stop every hour or so to look at the sights. At several points, their van gets robbed and they have to craft new supplies as they go. They make some "road enemies" (other roadtrippers that get competitive about parking spots and camping areas and stuff) and get in several fights (that they win). They camp alongside the road instead of staying in hotels and it's kinda miserable but it builds a lot of relationships and character. Their van breaks down a lot but they always fix it themselves. B'Elanna ends up souping up the engine about 4 different times. In the end, they all get home pretty much dead on their feet, but the whole crew is planning the next road trip anyway.

Freeman - She has a schedule that no one follows and she yells about it a lot. The road trip keeps getting completely derailed. They absolutely do not hit any planned stops and they have to replace each of the van's tires 3 times. Good news, however, is that they got a GREAT sale on all the trinkets and stuff that they bought along the way so everyone is still having an okay time.

Dal - Barely has a plan. He basically piled everyone in a vehicle one day and started driving. They stop whenever they feel like it and do odd jobs to earn enough money to keep going. The end goal is to reach San Francisco by the end, but Dal has to keep them backtracking for various reasons and they're having a heck of a time understanding exactly how this brand-new Chevy Silverado with a fancy computer system that they accidentally stole works. Everyone has fun anyway, even though they are also kinda lowkey running from the cops.

Burnham - I don't honestly know enough about Burnham as a captain to say for sure but I think she and Saru would plan a pretty chaotic lil road trip that kinda jumps all over the country in a strange order. Lots of zigzags and backtracking and stuff. I think they have fun though?

FINAL RANKING:

1st Place - Pike

2nd Place - Kirk

3rd Place - Janeway

4th Place - Sisko

5th Place - Archer

6th Place - Burnham

7th Place - Picard

8th Place - Dal

9th Place - Freeman

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ladylooch · 10 months

Note

Your requests may be closed, and I most definitely respect that, but this is me begging for just a crumb of protective Nico because I need it more than I need oxygen. 🥺

A/N: I almost died eating a cheesy roll up from Taco Bell while writing this… And I came back from near death because I had to finish this for you 😘 No I am not dramatic at all, why do you ask?

You had gone to bed before Nico. He was out in the living room, watching a late west coast game between the Rangers and Kings. He had slept in late and took two naps, so sleep wasn’t coming for him anytime soon. Fine with you. You didn’t mind an empty bed when you knew he was in the other room.

You fall asleep quickly, taking a bit of cold medicine to help you sleep after having a sinus infection earlier in the week. The medicine helps you slumber deep, but it also brings a very vivid dream that takes place in your bedroom, seemingly tonight. A man is in the corner. He’s lurking, waiting for you to shut the door so he can grab you. You try to yell to Nico, but the hand over your mouth muffles any attempt.

“Make a sound and your boyfriend dies.” The man says as he throws you down on the bed and pulls out a knife.

You jolt awake, sitting up and sucking in a gasping breath. You clutch your chest, trying to get your bearings straight. Everything still feels so real. You look around the room, cringing at all the shadows that cast out in oblong shapes to you. You close your eyes, trying to talk yourself down from your panic. When you open them, you swear there is movement to your left. You look fast, seeing the curtains blowing in the breeze from the ceiling fan. Everything in your body is screaming fight or flight.

The weak light from the TV barely reaches the end of the hall as you open the door. You tip toe down, wondering if maybe Nico had fallen asleep on the couch. When you round the corner, his brown eyes immediately find you. He lays on his back, feet crossed at the ankles, with his hands behind his head. You cling to the wall nervously.

“I’m scared.” You admit to him. He perks up to a sitting position, opening his arms to you.

“What’s up, sweets?”

“I had a bad dream.” You mutter into his neck, attaching to him like a baby sloth.

“Oh no.” He rubs his hands up and down your back to comfort you. “Wanna talk about it?”

“There was a guy here.” Your voice shakes. Nico pulls you tighter at the observance.

“No one is here. Just me and you, baby.” He soothes immediately.

“He was in the bedroom and he grabbed me. He said he was going to kill you if I made any noise.” You squeeze your eyes shut, fingerprints pressing deeper into his body. Nico sighs, bringing his face close to your hair to press kisses along your head.

“You’re okay.” He reminds you. “You’re safe here in my arms. Nothing is going to get to you through me.” His words are perfect. Nico always knows what to say. You pause right where you are for a moment, not speaking, only feeling the solidness of him beneath and around you. Nico notices your grip on him slacken a bit and pulls away so he can see your face. “Better?”

“Yeah.” You nod, taking a measured breath. “How much longer are you going to be up?”

“I can come to bed now if you want.”

“Yes, please.” He nods, clicking the TV off and helping you to your feet. You let him walk first into the bedroom. He immediately flips the light on and does his due diligence to look around the room, even behind the curtains that scared you when you first woke up. “Just me and you.” He reiterates. “Get under the covers.” He waits for you to do so, then turns the light off.

He climbs into bed and pulls you into his body so you are spooning. You fit together like interconnecting parts. With Nico’s protection, you fall back to sleep relatively easy. This time, you dream of you and him on a sandy, white beach, sipping margaritas and getting interesting tan lines.

#nico hischier #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #hockey writing #my writing #nhl fan fiction #writing request #New Jersey devils

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fandomwritingbit · 1 year

Text

(bf's dad) william afton x (fem)reader pt.2!

WARNING: swearing/blasphemy. smut. oral sex (male) vaginal sex, age-gap, inappropriate relationship, guilt. sort of exhibitionism, sort of.

NOTES: afab reader. After hiding her "session" her besie mate's Michael's dad, reader avoids them both for a couple of weeks. But Mr Afton catches her off guard in a shop shit goes down... Cameo from big tescos and another character crops up a bit later on too.

Pt.1 here

It had been easy to move on from your night at Afton's...in practicality. You'd been able to physically leave William Afton at the door. After cleaning yourself up, post the mind-blowing sex, you'd look Mr Afton in his eyes and implored him to never mention this to Michael. He'd scoffed telling you that you'd needn't worry, his tenuous relationship with his son wouldn't be improved by bragging to him that he'd fucked you stupid against the side table in the living room. Still though, you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't engage in this inappropriate shagging again, even if the thought of his solid frame pinning you against the wall made your mouth fucking water.

And you'd stuck to it, of course not going over to Michael's again, shit not even speaking to Michael really. He'd come up to you at Uni the following day and the second his dark eyes locked on to yours - so like his father's - you were filled with guilt and the image of Mr Afton. And the worst part, you sort of enjoyed it. God, he'd asked you why you looked so tired that day, you nearly laughed: "Well mate, I'm knackered because last night when I came over to see you, your dad gave me the best fucking I’ve ever had and I stayed up all night reliving it over and over again.” Of course you didn’t really say that, you’d thought it though, so you’re pretty horrid. In reality, you’d quickly made up some excuse about staying up late doing your coursework and got the fuck out of dodge, avoiding your friend’s eye line all week. Then the week after. And then today.

It was Tuesday evening, not that it mattered really, you were so run off with your feet with pissing work to do you weren’t really counting days: truth be told you’d almost put the whole situation out of your head.

You’d think your local big Tesco would be quiet on a Tuesday night, but of course it wasn’t, there are fuckers everywhere, stocking up on alcohol most likely, you want to yourself but no, your budget certainly isn’t allowing that. You make your purchases as fast as the bloody queues will let you and head for the door.

Stuck in your head as you’re leaving, you hear a crisp whistle - the kind that says ‘yoo-hoo’ as opposed to the wolf variety - and you turn, ready to tell some teenager to swivel. But no. Of course. OF FECKING COURSE. At the end of the aisle you see a chuckling Mr Afton slip just out of sight. The reminder that he existed and wasn’t just something you’d wank to, nearly made you double-take, you were close to just walking out and pretending you hadn’t seen him, but the man obligated you to approach when he re-emerged beckoning you over with a mouthed “Away, y/n.” So you went over, wrapped in a lovely blanket of nervousness.

Rounding the corner of the aisle to where he stood, you didn’t stop yourself from looking him up and down, yeah, he was still a good-looking bastard. You weren’t a jittery sort of person really, yet this man threw you so much on the back foot you couldn’t find anywhere to look.

“I know it’s cliché: but fancy seeing you here.” He rested his elbows on the front bar of his trolley, bringing himself to your eye level, you’d forgotten what an impossibly tall fella he was. 6′6 at least, crazy in comparison to you or indeed anyone.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond to him, eventually settling on:

“Yeah, believe me I did not expect to run into you.” You were smiling as you spoke, partially at your own embarrassment and at the stupidness of the situation - this is exactly the sort of thing that would happen to you, the universe must really have a grudge at your expense. He laughed at your curt response, the heat of your cheeks exposing your discomfort at this encounter.

“Charming. Am I really that bad? As far as I’m aware, we left on good terms.” He was teasing you, shaking his head as he spoke mockingly.

“We really did, sorry I’m just-” Just be fucking normal, you internally berate yourself, this really isn’t that shocking. “I don’t know... surprised to see you.”

He nodded, bringing the back of his thumb to his mouth as he considered your statement. There was something about silence when stood with this man that you couldn’t stand, it gave you time to think about last time: about his hands pulling you across that table by your ankles, the feel of his chest against your head as he pounded into you, good God.

“I get that, sweetheart. Jesus, I hardly believe you’re real.” He laughed briefly before continuing, “When Michael talks about you now, I have to remind myself to behave.” The mention of Mike’s name made your eyes widen, you were lost in the effect Mr Afton had on you, it almost physically hurt to be slammed back into reality like that.

“Yeah, I can’t even look at him at the moment... He does this thing with his head as he listens to someone talking, like tilts it to the side. And you do exactly the same thing.” You looked down as you said the last part, unable to hide the slight smirk grazing your lips; seemingly knowing what you were referring to, he grinned.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding him then?” Yeah, mate, that really isn't the half of why you've been staying away from Mike. “He’s been complaining after you all week... to be honest I think he’s got a little crush on you.” Eyeing you up as he spoke, he watched you rub your arm in awkwardness, bloody hell you were a sweet sight to see.

“I feel bad.” You somewhat explain, hands rising into a shrug. He moved closer to you slowly, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was about in the aisle behind the two of you, running his tongue between his lips before he spoke.

“Well...” he leaned down close to you and you gulped, the invasion of your personal space should have been unwelcomed, but it really wasn’t. Quite the opposite, you pressed your thighs together, the smell of him arousing you more than it should be possible.

He continued; his voice low “Do you feel guilty ‘cos you did something wrong? Or because you enjoyed it?” You laughed, almost in disbelief that he said that and that when he did you felt butterflies like an idiot. Squaring up to him nearly, you kept your eyes anywhere but his as you replied shortly.

“Both. But also because I’d do again.” He was very bloody close to you now, unable to help himself once you’d said that. He felt his cock twitch against the fabric of his trousers, the idea of fucking you again driving him near crazy.

“Oh. Would you now?” His breath stroking the side of your neck as he talked.

An old woman walking past the two of you towards the cereal aisle, reminded him of where he was and what he was doing: flirting hard with a lass half his age in a fucking Tesco, poor Ethel didn’t need to see this. He moved away from you and for a brief moment you forgot how to stand up on your own.

Checking the time on his watch, he smiled to himself. “Did you walk here?” He asked innocently enough, somewhere subconsciously you must have been able to tell where this was going, but it hadn’t been brought into the light yet.

“Yeah. I don’t live far away.” Your eyebrows narrowed as you answered, the important part of your brain not up to speed or grasping the relevance of this question.

“It's late, I’m giving you a lift.” It was a statement not a question and you giggled at his blatant excuse to get you alone.

“Do I have a choice?” “Nah. it’s dark out. I think.” he said smirking, craning his neck to try and see over the aisle divides to a window.

“They’re tinted windows, mate.” You laughed into the back of your hand. He nodded his head pulling a face that said, ‘yup I realise that...now’.

“Alright.” he grinned, voice reeking of mock offence. “And how was I supposed to know that, you minx?” You shrugged, still grinning at him. “Anyway, my point stands.”

“Isn’t this the same thing you did last time? Using my safety as a ploy to keep me around?” you enquired, doing your best to try and wind him up. It looked like it was working but in fact your cheekiness just made him want to pursue you more - he had exactly the same issue last time.

“Yeah, and you bit then too.” He winked at you, before beginning to push his trolley out of the aisle. You shook your head, hating that it was this easy for him to make you want to follow him. For fuck’s sake you barely knew him! This was something they warned you about as a kid, really not a good idea to get in strange men’s cars, especially when they evidently have an ulterior motive: and yet you were still going to, weren’t you.

When he was done checking out, he met you at the door to the shop with his bag. And you follow him like a lamb to his car. It was dark and he smirked at you smugly, a mouthed “I told ya '' on his lips made you giggle as you got in his front seat. He joined you, seconds later, and that familiar feeling of nervousness crept up your spine as you were in the confined space with him.

“Well, lovely. Where am I taking you?” He watched your face for reaction and you froze a bit, deer in headlights and all that.

“I should say: nowhere. And get out your car...” you think out loud, sitting up in your seat a bit, mock motioning to the door handle, which prompted him to press the lock button on the driver's side, rather dramatically, he just grinned, not even moving his gaze from you. Man, he’s something else, you think to yourself. Just blinking in response before you turned fully towards him in the seat, giggling mischievously.

“You’re kidnapping me?” you state, raising your eyebrows in feigned disapproval.

“I wouldn’t say that. It's more...” he paused thinking, half a smile on his face. “Smuggling. I’m not kidnapping you, just moving you from one place to another.” He ran a hand over the top of his head, chuckling, you really always had something to say. “

Ah that makes it okay then.” you say sarcastically, snickering at the look on his face. “But... stupidly I might ask if I can come to yours.” Your own audacity was really surprising you, not long-ago sharing floor with this man made you unable to string together a sentence; here you are now, a hair trigger away from saying ‘Oh aye mate, I’m after going to yours on the hope that you’ll shag the life out of me again.’

He didn’t say anything to you, just sniggered as he turned on his car and began making an exit. He’d really hoped that that would be your answer, God, he’d been banking on having you again, in truth there was a lot more he wanted to do to you, and he’d been thinking about it non-stop for the past fortnight.

The journey back to the Afton residence really wasn’t very long, only about 15 minutes due to the lack of traffic, the roads deader than that poor old Ethel in Tesco. As you began to recognise the familiar turn of the road, the stupid flitting butterflies came back; unlike last time this was a deliberate choice with the activity about to transpire on the table, in consequence you were practically buzzing with nerves just thinking about it.

The time in between stopping the car, taking the keys and unlocking the door, and Mr Afton cornering you in his bedroom passed in a blur, maybe it was the nerves, more likely though the arousal. Let’s face it, all your cards were known and neither of you could wait much longer.

You had so many comments to say about how boring his bedroom was, honestly it was like a showroom, no personality just bed, tv, drawers. It was very fucking clean too, you had a joke banging around in your head about his last encounter ending in a professional deep clean, but before you could demonstrate your comedic genius, your back was against the wall and his tongue was down your throat. You couldn't complain though, nor did you want to.

There was just something about how he kissed you that knocked the air from your lungs and filled your pretty little head with cotton wool; it was embarrassing really and part of you sort of hated him for being able to do that. So, in true stubbornness you elect that this time the bastard’s not bettering you. Pulling yourself away from him, he grunts slightly at the lack of contact, his arousal evident in front of you.

“Where do you think you're going?” His voice thick with restraint, it was taking a lot for him not to grab you right now. But there was something about the mischievous glint in your eye that made him hold on - at least for now.

“I hardly got to have a look last time. I’m doing it now.” you state, the ability to be clever gone. It was true, in your rush during your last meeting, you’d been too focused on yourself to get a proper gander at the bloke before you and there’s no time like the present.

Though your face felt hotter than the sun, you find the courage to start undressing him, unable to glance at the snug expression leering down at you.

“You just broke your own fucking clothes rule.” You couldn’t help but laugh, his voice was a bit too serious given what he was saying, but you suppose that’s understandable when you have what he’s thinking with in your hands. Moving to continue, he catches your arm. Clearly, he wasn’t joking about the rule because his hands are cold against your flesh, sliding under the fabric of your shirt, close enough to your waistband that your legs quiver slightly. Hooking the shirt, he pulls it from you, grinning at how your bravado had faltered a fair bit already and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Satisfied?” You ask, the grin on your face not nearly as brave as you wanted it. The way he was looking at your chest told you the answer already, he looked hungry, and the only thought bouncing around his brain was how crazy you were driving him.

Not letting him distract you too much, you slide your hands down his torso, eventually landing at his belt, which you soon pull free. With a hum of slight amusement from above you.

“God, you’re driving me fucking mental.” He half-moaned, breaking into a slight chuckle at the sight of you, it was disbelief. Honestly, he’d only popped out for some shopping.

Perhaps you’re enjoying playing with him a bit too much because before you can even get to your knees to take this ‘exploration’ further, you can feel your knickers clinging to your slick. You hadn’t even really seen it last time, he was big, almost intimidating, and for a moment you kneel looking at him, before slowly taking hold of his cock, smirking as you dare to look at his face.

Continuing with your agenda, you take the tip of his cock in your mouth and run your tongue over it, now able to taste the precum already there. The thought of him aroused just from seeing you at the shop made a pang of want chime through you.

As you became more confident with it, taking more of him, a firm hand grabbed hold of your hair - not guiding your movement exactly, but grounding himself. You weren’t able to take all of him, but you didn’t need to, your focus on his tip and simultaneous stroking with your hands was more than enough.

The groaning above you almost made you want to smile in a kind of dirty victory, but you keep focused on your task. You were a bit too good at this and not wanting to... ‘over-exert himself’ too soon, he pulls your head away, quickly bringing you to your feet.

“Did I offend?” you ask as he turns you from him, biting kisses down your back whilst experienced hands pull your clothes from you. It didn’t pass you by that doing so was somewhat considerate, the marks he was leaving wouldn’t be seen by anyone else, they were personal.

“Fuck, no.” he answered finally, through a smirk. He’d stripped you so fast it could have been a magic act and now you stood, naked, save for your panties. His fingers plied under the fabric and began toying with your abundance of wetness. God, you were fucking precious, your little mewls as he played with your clit, making his cock ache. Stiffening, as he changes the patterns he draws on your bundle of nerves, you feel the pressure of your high building, he was much too good at that. Pressing his fingers into your pussy from behind, your back arches involuntarily, the mix of his digits pulling slowly in and out of you and the mean biting kiss he burned into your hip was insane.

And before long you were so desperate that you pulled away from him with the intention of enticing him to you. But you didn’t have to, he grabbed you and turned you to face him, so quick that you giggled in his rush.

Letting him push you back onto the bed, you can’t manage to shift a stupid smile off your face.

“God, you’re fucking precious, you.”

You’re laying on your back and he kneels between your legs, not wanting to mess around any longer. The sight of your wet little cunt was too damn tempting and slowly stroking himself he rubs the tip of his cock between your folds, spreading your slick and laying a blanket of anticipation at the pit of your stomach.

So many dirty words were on his lips but before he could say any of them the clear sound of the front door slamming made both your heads turn. You look at him with half a grin and look back to the door to hear the sound of heavy feet clumping up the stairs: Michael was home.

Of course he fucking was, now of all times. Not 5 minutes earlier, not 5 minutes later, now. As his dad was teasing the dripping entrance of his best friend’s needy pussy. Both breathing heavily and fuming with his arrival.

You see the older man fold his lips between his teeth, an expression of unbelieving annoyance beginning to form. But you wanted it too much, and the idea of your mate being in his room was not enough to stop you raising your hips to feel William’s cock pressing against your hole.

A voice above you, makes you look up. “You don’t care that Michael’s home?” he teases, letting you continue rubbing against the length of his cock, having to battle with the urge to shove into you, as he knew just how thin the walls were in this shit house.

You laugh a little, “I’ll be quiet...” you try, voice as sweet as the arousal between your legs. A sudden hand grips your hips, pulling you up with ease, the tip of his dick pressing just inside you, enough to make you gasp.

“Not if I’m doing a good job, you won’t.” He laughs, thrusting halfway inside you, making you yelp in surprise, a hand flying to your own lips. “See?” He continues chuckling, but the feeling of your walls tight gripped around him, broke him down enough to thrust shallowly inside you. His hands holding your hips to keep you still whilst he did so, the image of your lip between your teeth testing his patience.

From in his adjacent bedroom, Michael’s head piques in doubt at what he was hearing, but the realisation of the low grunts of his father mixed with a steady whimper of a lass, made his jaw drop slightly in disgust and disbelief. He turns his tv up, trying to distract himself, shaking his head.

“I-I don’t... he won’t know it’s me...” You begin, your persuasion interrupted by the moans he plucked from your lips. “He’ll think you’ve got some random lady in here.” And that was enough for him.

Sold.

He pressed himself fully inside you, setting a slow but tantalising pace, his cock deep and brushing that fucking amazing spot inside you, that made you whine.

You’re so close already, all his teasing had paid off, and you find yourself gripping at his forearms, eager to taste your climax. Your fluttering walls give you away and the man above you smirks as he presses his thumb to your clit, circling it, slamming you into orgasm sharpish.

“Fuckin-” you start, lost in the pleasure that coursed through your veins. You felt so fucking tight around him like that, pulsing sporadically around his cock, fucking bliss. He groans, dragging your body forward, his hips rutting against yours, fucking you through your orgasm. Near addicted to it, he pulls you so far, your lower body completely off the bed, useless to do anything but accept the pace you were given which had become rough. The sound of the two of you was accompanied by skin slapping hard against skin, the lewd noise of your cunt taking what he gave you topping it all off. You were so fucked up already and couldn’t give less of a shit at that moment, only clawing at what parts of the man you could reach.

From across the room your phone buzzes unnoticed. Messages from Michael, relaying the events that you already, but shouldn’t have known. ‘Can’t fucking believe it’ - ‘my dad’s got some lass over and I can hear everything 😭’

God, you wanted to fucking cum again, rolling your hips to meet William's thrusts, trying his restraint. You were like a vice around him and the moaning was taking him over the edge. As much as it pained him, he pulled himself from you, grinning at your almost instant,

“What are you-”

He takes hold of you, picking you up from the bed and dragging you across the room, slamming your desperate body against a wall, your back to him. For a moment you’re confused, not exactly complaining, but confused.

“If he can hear it... he might as well hear it all.” he grunts into the back of your head. You’re about to protest this, but it's lost in your head when he presses back into you rough, fucking you dumb from behind. Everything else was gone, except the want to feel this man cum inside you. You were close yourself and the laboured groan against your skin, pushed you closer to your edge. His pace was hard, but becoming more erratic and greedy against you, the thump of his chasing clear as day on the other side of the wall.

“Fuck, I’m going to-” You didn’t really need to hear the rest, cutting him off with an eager plea for him to cum inside you. He presses you flush against the wall and you smash into your climax as he hits you just right, your flexing grip triggering his own. His pace stammers as he cums, each movement accented with a near animalistic grunt. Your eyes were wide at the feeling of his release inside you and beginning to trickle down the back of your leg.

He holds you there for a moment, before slowly pulling out, wanting to see just how pretty you looked with him dripping out of you. Turning to face him, you smirk, your face hot.

Seeing him looking at you thoughtfully, your brow raises,

“What?”

“We’re not done.”

God, long one there!

PS: sorry Michael, even I feel kinda bad about that lmao.

#fnaf william afton #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton fic #fnaf smut #william afton smut #william afton x you #fnaf 18+

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gabbasposts · 6 months

Text

]You’ll know in time[

Lies of P: P (Pinocchio) x fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, power play, P has a dick 💀 language, minors and ageless blogs are getting blocked ✌️😘

Gif not mine

A/n: first of, SPOILERS. Especially if you aren’t far in the game. I literally sat on this for the longest time trying to figure out how I could make him having a dick be logical 😀 I saw some people theorizing that the ending where he passes out in Sophia’s arms was because he was fully human and the exhaustion of everything he had done up until that point finally took over. And while it isn’t the most solid explanation (especially when there’s a bit of hinting towards the fact he might be the tin man due to the ending)… your here because you want to fuck him, so we’re just going to use that for now. Anyways, reader is a Stalker (no I don’t specify any other details about them other than the fact they probably have two names) and I like to imagine P and them have a Batman and Cat woman kind of relationship for this fic. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy 💀

•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/

"Slower." The sudden command caused P to glare at the woman before him, his blue eyes narrowing at them with clear distaste in them.

His hand had been working his cock for the better part the of an hour, listening to the Stalker who stared at him... a smirk of satisfaction crossing her features as she looked at him with an air of indifference, slowly circling the chair she had pushed him into earlier.

"Come on… your not that eager now, are you?Have some patience." She jeered finally coming to stand in front of P who made an annoyed sound.

"Stroke it slower or I won't help you. It's as simple as that." She spoke tilting her head as P made a "Tch." Sound, clearly annoyed by her orders.

However, she knew he loved it… her commands, her edging him into madness. He could pout and make as much annoyed sounds he wanted, but his body always told her otherwise.

She didn't know when P had became human... he left the hotel one day, after the Black Rabbit Brotherhood had attacked, seemingly to face off against Geppetto and when he returned, or... when Sophia had returned him, that's when she had discovered his newfound humanity.

It had been a stupefying sight, having him wake up in his hotel room so that he could rest up... she had been by his bed side, boredily waiting for him to awake and tell her of the happenings of his journey.

Her favorite past time was pestering him when he was around, finding satisfaction with his narrowed eyed gaze, and looks of utter desperation with wanting to stop her from her usual behavior.

When he did finally awake, as expected, he had been annoyed and hadn't thought twice about simply shrugging off his clothing as he walked to the large wardrobe just a few feet from the foot of his bed.

Not that she had complained of course, but when she had saw it... the manhood between his legs…it was safe to say, even once he had fully re-dressed into cleaner clothing, her jaw had still been on the floor once he had turned around. Simply giving her a questioning look before making his way out of the room.

In his eyes, he didn’t feel any different. His body had changed and he had some… new additions, but changing in-front of her hadn’t been a big deal.

They had an interesting relationship to say the least... she had been scavenging the day she met him, mistaking him for a human at first before noticing the mechanical twitch in his body. He told her about a safe spot, that being of Krat Hotel, a place she had thought had long fallen but was pleasantly surprised to see was doing well in the care of Antonia before she succumbed to her illness...

And every time he stopped by to simply change his clothing, or talk to Eugenie and Sophia, she made sure to annoy him with her presence. Sometimes going the extra mile to stalk him around the city before revealing herself to him after a fight, much to his annoyance.

How they got to this part of their acquaintanceship was a long story to say the least but that didn't matter now... His right hand slowly began to move... from the base of his cock where a simple vein ran just along the side, and ever so slowly to his red tip, which leaked the opaque white substance that threatened to erupt in full from the angry red tip of his length.

Her eyes slowly traveled from P's face, down his chest until she was starring straight at his length. Biting her lip slightly, as her fingers came to brush a strand of his shoulder length hair from his face.

She didn't miss how his shaky exhale fell from his lips, causing her to hum in contentment as she pulled away. His blue eyes stayed on hers as his head gently lulled to the side, his hand still going at the begrudging slow pace that made his hold on the armrest with his mechanical hand coke to a dangerous point, the small sound of the wood splintering filling the room alongside there eager breaths.

"When are you going to tell me how this happened?" Her tone was low and sultry as she slowly began to strip out of her own clothing. She watched, feeling her core throb as he fixed her with a warning gaze.

P wasn't someone who fell into her provoking traps, but she couldn't deny that she loved pushing his buttons, watching as he jaw clenched and he’d fix her with a warning gaze.

"When are you going to tell me your name?" He spoke, his voice low and slightly velvety as his eyes began to wander over her body, drinking in every detail and piece of skin that was slowly being revealed to him. She sighed, sitting in the foot of the bed before him, kicking off her pants before leaning back on one arm, as her other moves to the front of her.

"You already know it." She answered matter-of-factly, as she spread her legs wider for him to see her cunt in which was sopping wet by this point.

"Your real name." He answered gritting his teeth as his hand suddenly came to a halt. He fought to keep his eyes open, his half lidded gaze on her cunt as his cock twitched in his hand. Threatening to blow his load.

She made a small humming sound, herding her middle and ring finger coming down to massage her clitoris with slow movements as she kept her eyes on his. "...you'll know in time."

"Then so will you." He said, biting his lip suddenly as his eyes took in your actions. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at his words, clearly wanting to play a mental game of Russian roulette with the information they both eagerly wanted to know about one another, but not ready to reveal.

"Fine... in the mean time, come here." She spoke softly, her hand still working her core. She watched as his gaze found his again, darkening at the prospect of finally being able to indulge in her.

She wanted to be more of a tease. Perhaps make him beg for her, or make him make her cum with his good hand or tongue before she allowed his cock to sink into her, but in her efforts of teasing him, she had only managed to edge herself as well. She wanted him now...

He stood up, his eyes gazing down on her unblinkingly as he took only a few steps closer. Without as much as a warning, he pushed her back by her shoulders until she fell plush against the soft covers of the bed, the action causing her to smirk as she gazed up at him. "Your starting to understand what I want now."

He said nothing, simply grabbing the back of her knees and pulling her so that her bottom was closer to the edge of the bed, giving him better leverage of how hard he wanted to fuck her.

She stared at him, an action he matched as he hummed quietly, his right hand holding the base of his cock as he dragged the tip through her dripping folds.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking about how desperate I’ve been when your this wet… I wonder…” his voice took on a strange yet sultry tone, making her stomach flutter for a moment as he began ever so slowly pushing the tip into her.

“Were you ever this aroused by me when I had been nothing but a mere puppet?” Y/n didn’t have time to ask, as he suddenly sheathed himself fully within her, finally snapping that coil that had been holding on for so long… anticipating for this moment.

She moaned out, an action that caused P to throb within her as he tilted his head giving her an almost hungered look as he slowly dragged his hips away from hers.

By the time he snapped them back against her, she felt dizzy. This was a far cry from her hand… and she couldn’t help but to whimper out as he began to find his pace, making sure regardless his thrust were hard against hers.

“Mmh… curious, aren’t we?” She tried to chuckle shakily but was interrupted by a particular hard thrust that caused her to cry out. “Very.” He answered back, before his pace quickened.

The room began to feel with the sounds of her moans and mewls. His grunts and sharp breaths aided in helping her get off and P couldn’t help but to smirk.

It was going to be a long night it seemed…

•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/•\•/

A/n AGAIN: this fic was supposed to be longer but Ive been sick with covid so yeah 😒 also this P is very Carlo coded in this fic, or Carlo coded in my eyes. Idk why, but while P naturally seems more submissive to me, Carlo gives me bratty switch vibes, but for this fic I wanted to give P the top role (after letting him be subby and follow readers orders ofc)

But yeah, I hope y’all liked it 😂

#lies of p smut #p x reader smut #gabbasdumbthoughts #yeah

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duchess7878 · 5 months

Text

a part 2 has been requested for my cowboy!Johnny fic! I hope you like it :)

a/n: I love doing these requests, they give me inspiration to write because it makes me happy that y'all can get something from it <3

warning(s): rough sex, dub-con, kidnapping, degradation, slapping, knife-play, blood-play, choking, kicking, manipulating

part 2/2 of cowboy!Johnny short story (unless more is requested and the same goes for all of my stories, if you want more let me know <3)

18+ MDNI

My hand trembled as I read the note. He isn't really coming back is he? I stood for a moment as I tried to consider my options, but my mind was so clouded with fear I could barely conjure a coherent thought. If he came back, does that mean he would take me back to his gang? What would happen to me then? My eyes welled with tears as my heart clenched and my breathe I became heavy. The saloon was bustling as I quickly left the room and walked down the stairs of the saloon, almost tripping over my skirt. I left the saloon and stepped out onto the muddy road.

I didn't bother looking for a carriage because of what happened with the last one. So I began walking down the road and out of town, wanting to leave the area before Slaughter came back. The longing feeling I had when I woke this morning is now long gone, my mind made up that I didn't want this. He was a murderer, and a sadistic one at that.

The road was quiet and tense. I couldn't stop turning my head, just waiting for Slaughter to come out of nowhere and haul me off again. Anyone who knew anything knew that Johnny Slaughter of the Slaughter gang had the most uncanny ability to track in the world. The only thing that you had against it is to keep moving and that's exactly what I was doing. I didn't care where I ended up, just as long as he doesn't find me again. Who knows what he'll do if he comes back and realizes I didn't listen to him.

Johnny could feel the vein in his head throb upon returning to the Newt saloon and you were nowhere to be found. He had quickly searched the rest of the town and had turned up nothing. His instructions seemed so simple and clear, a child could understand. Now why did you have to up and run away? He laughed out loud to try and mask his irritation so the situation wouldn't bother him more than it already has. Johnny began to walk back to the room he had rented the night before knowing that he could pick up your trail there.

"Hey! You have ta-" The bartenders words were cut short as Johnny shot him a menacing look.

"Shut yer mouth. He said, not stopping and turning his head back towards the stairs.

Johnny wasn't going to let anyone or anything get in the way of his prized possession. It had been a while since he has been irked this badly and he would make sure you were punished for that. Upon reaching the room, your scent immediately filled his nostrils. It must be your favorite scent if you used it again this morning. He didn't want to go off of scent alone, as there were many smells in the wilderness and yours can get mixed up in them easily.

Johnny didn't need to search long before he found a solid footprint to utilize in his tracking. Your prints were so clear to him they almost glowed and he couldn’t be happier to be led to his treasure. He stood up straight and began following the prints out of the saloon, down the road, and out of town.

“I’m gonna find you. I will, I promise!” He said, whistling for his horse to come over.

I was growing tired from how long I had been walking. The sun now was setting, signaling I had been going from dawn ‘til dusk. I was sure I had put enough distance between Slaughter and I to take at least a small break, my feet and back were aching horribly. I turned off of the road and walked a little ways beyond the tree line, having a small plan that I would run deeper into the woods in the event that Slaughter did happen to find me. I decided to sit and rest along a tree, the bark digging uncomfortably into my back but it’s much preferred to being on my feet for a moment longer. I wasn’t even able to take in a deep breathe before I heard a twig snap and I was immediately tense again. I whipped my head around looking for anything that could’ve made that sound and I took in a huge sigh of relief upon seeing a doe in the distance. I started to relax and closed my eyes for just a moment.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable just yet sweetheart.” A voice rang out right next to my ear.

I yelped and shot away from the voice, looking up to confirm my worst fear. How could he have already found me? I put so much distance between us.

“In yer fear, you seem to have forgotten somethin’ darlin’; I have a horse. It’s funny how being so afraid can make somethin’ so simple slip a persons mind.” A malicious smirk formed on his face.

I didn’t bother letting him continue what he was going to say, I turned and ran. My feet were pounding, but that didn’t compare to my heart at the moment. I couldn’t think of anything else but getting away from him, I was scared for my life. I didn’t want to be hurt or killed, I don’t want to be eaten either if the rumors of the gang are true. My footsteps were heavy as I ran through the thick foliage, the branches whipping me and breaking skin all over the surface of my arms and shins. My dress was getting torn with each second I ran through the woods.

“This is pointless ya know. Quit fightin’.” I heard his voice call from behind before I felt something squeeze around my midsection, clotheslining me and sending me flying backwards onto the ground. The wind was knocked out of me and my mouth fell open, desperate to take in a breathe. I heard the ground crunching beneath his boots as he walked up beside me. I looked up at him and he snarled down at me, his fury evident on his features.

Without a word, he kicked his foot hard into my ribs, reeling back and kicking harshly once again. I screamed out in pain, trying to move my arm to block the spot he was hurting but to no avail, the rope around me keeping me in place.

“I asked you to do one thing doll, it wasn’t that difficult was it? Or are you too stupid to understand simple instruction?” He asked. I wasn’t able to respond immediately due to the immense pressure on my chest from the kicking and the fall, I still could barely breathe at the moment.

“You must be since you won’t answer. Since yer so desperate to breathe, let me help you with that.” He snickered and lifted his foot, pressing it harshly on my neck. I went to throw my hands up to lessen the pressure, but ended up pulling my shoulders, quickly reminded that I was bound and completely at his mercy.

“Please..” I choked out, barely comprehensible.

“Please what darlin’?” He asked mockingly, pressing slightly harder.

“Stop, please!” I shrieked out with every bit I had, tearing my throat in the process from the force I needed to implement to produce a loud sound.

“Will you listen if I tell you to stay put in the future?” He questioned, very lightly lessening the pressure on my throat. I nodded vigorously.

“Forgive me, but I just don’t believe ya darlin’.” He sighed.

“Trust me, I want to. You hurt me back there, more than I’m hurting you now.” He took his foot off of my throat.

I was finally able to take in a breath, but a new pain immediately shot through me. Like I suspected, my throat is torn to all hell. I watched as he walked from my head down to feet, looking me dead in the eyes before lifting his boot again and slamming it down onto my ankle. A loud crunch echoed through the trees. I threw my head back and screamed despite my throat being torn. The pain was intense and I sobbed following the scream, not expecting the sudden bludgeon. Heavy, hot tears followed the sobs and that earned a coo from Johnny.

“Aw, did that hurt doll? Maybe you’ll remember this next time you don’t listen to me. This should also prevent you from tryin’ to leave again for a while and just to warn you, I will do this a many times as I need if you make me.” He threatened.

“I’m sorry Johnny, please stop this.” I cried.

“You ain’t sorry, not yet.” He growled, fastening the rope he’s been holding and started dragging me towards a nearby tree. Once there, he stood me up against it and used his lasso to tie me against the tree. My ankle ached horribly in this position, but I knew it would do me no good to tell him that.

I heard a familiar metallic sound as he pulled his knife from his sheathe and stalked up to me. He stepped up until we were chest to chest, he was craning his neck to look down at me and I could feel his warm breath on the top of my head. I refused to look up at him, but that didn’t sit long. He pressed the point of his knife to the bottom of my jaw, penetrating the skin as he forced me to look up at him. I felt the blood run down my neck as I looked into his dark eyes, now filled with lust alongside the rage.

“There ya go.” He praises, removing the knife from my neck and running the tip along his tongue. He groaned as the blood touched his taste buds, it being the most delicious thing he’s tasted in a while.

He then lifted his knife to the side of my neck and made a small cut, latching his lips onto it. He sucked the wound harshly and the blood along with it, but it wasn’t enough for him. Biting the wound, the blood was forced to flow more as he sucked every drop, a guttural groan sounding out when the coppery taste flooded his senses. Now afraid that he may actually eat a chunk of flesh from my neck, I began wiggling in the restraints, scrunching my neck to try and restrict his access. It worked, but he was not happy with it.

A heavy snarl formed on his lips as he lifted his hand, slapping me hard across the face. Before I could even react to the pain, another slap came to my other cheek and a small cut formed above my cheekbone, it bled heavily. A small cry came past my lips as the pain burned throughout my entire body.

“You better not stop me again, or you’ll regret it.” He growled harshly, grabbing my jaw and forcing me to look at him.

“Come on doll, can you be a good girl for the bad man? I promise to not hurt you again.” He asked mockingly, getting in my face and licking the blood from it with the tip of his tongue.

“Yes, I will.” I said quietly, choking down sobs.

“You will what? And speak up darlin’, I want to hear you loud and clear.” He said in a slow and mocking tone.

“I’ll be a good girl.” I cried louder, my voice breaking heavily from the abuse it suffered earlier.

“That’s better.” He praised. He took as step back from me and reached up to my chest, bunching it up as he did my undies last night and ripping it open, exposing my chest to the cold air of the night. My buds hardening immediately and he groaned lightly under his breath. Without letting go of his knife, he began unbuckling his belt with his off hand. He pulled it swiftly from his the loops in his jeans and flicked the end of the strap up into his hand along with the buckle so he had a small whip of sorts. My eyes widened, quickly understanding what it was for.

I watched his hand intently and he reached the belt up to my breast and lightly ran it over the mound before flicking it up and bringing it down on top of my tit, the whip sound bouncing between the trees. I felt my chest bounce at the smack and he looked extremely satisfied with his performance. Without another word, he began his work. He whipped his belt onto each breast, back and forth, about 15 smacks on each. When he was finished, my entire chest had gone numb and I couldn’t feel anything above my stomach. My face and chest both out of commission from his torture.

“I don’t think I can wait for that pussy anymore doll.” He said, reaching to his jeans and stroking himself through the thick fabric, his head slowly lolling back as he pleasured himself.

“Then get it over with.” I spat.

“Ah ah ah, you said you were gonna be a good girl for me.” He said, not bothering lifting his head to look at me.

“Please.” I said softly.

“That’s my girl.” He said, shoving his pants down to his knees and taking a couple of steps forward, stopping once our chests were pressed together. He reached down between us, lifted my legs up around his hips and took his cock into his hand. He began pressing his head into my folds, biting his lip in focus once the contact was made. I couldn’t help but blush at the clear desire on his face, and I wondered if looked like this with other women he fucked.

He was slow this time as he pushed his way in, much unlike last night.

“Are you still mad at me?” I asked, unable to understand his behavior.

“Oh darlin’, I can’t stay mad at you. I think you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger.” He whispered towards the end, bottoming out as he finished his sentence. He completely stilled as he made eye contact with me.

“How’s about you come live with me? You’ll be fed, protected, and fucked real good. How’s that sound doll? You just have to keep being my good girl.” He asked.

Knowing that my chances alone were dwindling with every passing day, I considered the opportunity. I wouldn’t have to worry about a place to stay or something to eat, on top of that I won’t have to constantly look over my shoulder everywhere I go. I nodded, understanding that it was my best option.

“Atta girl.” He said, pulling his hips back and thrusting harshly back into me. I let out a yelp at the sudden change, again, in behavior. He began to pound into me ruthlessly, our hips slapping together loudly, the sound making me more wet by the second.

“Damn, you feel so good.” He said, gripping my thighs and pulling me closer to him, my breasts pressing hard against his chest. He pulled back for a moment a ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground next to him.

“Wanna feel you.” He muttered, quickly pressing our chests back together as he pressed his lips to mine gently. His harsh thrusts didn’t let up and whimpers fell from my throat as the pleasure rose from his touch.

“Yeah, tell me how good I make you feel.” He growled, his lips not leaving mine.

“So good Johnny, better than I’ve ever felt.” I moaned against his plush lips, not wanting this to end.

“Damn right.” He said, hips thrusts becoming erratic as he threw his head back, groaning loudly.

“Gonna cum in you doll.” He moaned, locking his hips to mine as he came.

Breathing heavily, he kept himself inside me as he came back down to earth, titling his head forward and making eye contact. He leaned forward and pressed his head to mine, kissing me lightly on the lips one more time.

“I’m definitely keeping you. You’re stuck with me doll.”

Part 1 :)

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny tcm #tcm #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #18+ mdni #mdni #smut

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theweightofakiteofdreamsingold · 9 months

Text

Mirrors – J. Kiszka

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mature themes, unprotected sex, fingering, language, MINORS DNI

A/N: Im not exactly sure what the deal is with my brain and Josh and showers and smut, but enjoy some kinky mirror sex w/ Josh lol 💁‍♀️🫶

Bajabule,

-Han

As you slid the curtain down the rod, you watched the steam from the shower float through the air of the bathroom, the condensation making the floor tiles slippery as you padded across them. You took your towel from the hook on the wall and dried your body before tousling your hair with it to get off the extra water.

You opened the bathroom door to find Josh sitting propped up against a mound of pillows, his brown eyes sweet as they watched your every movement across the room.

“What?” you asked, your voice meek and small.

“Just admiring, mama.” His voice was soft and sweet, and his eyes glimmered as they raked over every feature of your body that wasn’t still covered by your towel.

“Not much to admire,” you chuckled softly.

He scoffed, his mouth sitting open, while his eyes roamed over you again. “Baby, you’re gorgeous,” he said, peeling out from under the blankets on the bed and crawling to the end to be closer to where you were standing. “Come over here, sweet girl,” he said, standing up on his knees and stretching his arms out to you.

You bunched your towel and held it together with one hand while you walked to him. His hands held both sides of your face and he dragged his gaze slowly from your eyes to your lips while he moved his mouth closer to yours. Your breathing was steadily picking up, the closer he got to you; not with anxiety, but rather with anticipation. He had moved himself close enough to you for the tip of his nose to rest on your cheek while his lips practically brushed yours as he whispered to you.

“Here. Let’s slip this off, huh?” His hand gingerly held yours that was keeping you clothed. He swept his fingertips across the back of your hand while his big, brown eyes melted every solid part of you. “Lemme see.”

Your eyes immediately dropped to the floor and you felt your cheeks get hot. You’d never been able to shake your self-consciousness, even though Josh made it his life’s mission to never let you forget how beautiful he thought you were. He was always reminding you every chance that he got, always trying to do things to make you feel pretty.

“Mama, gimme those pretty eyes.”

You flicked your eyes to him, and his were practically dripping. They were the deepest brown you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t look away from them. You loosened your grip on the edges of your towel and let one corner slip through your fingers, never breaking from his stare. The towel fell, exposing one side of your naked body. You felt it continue to uncover you until it was hanging loosely between your thumb and forefinger. You let it slip between them, feeling it hit your feet as your eyes stayed locked with Josh’s. His eyes squinted slightly, and the corners of them crinkled as the most brilliant smile spread across his face.

It reflexively made you smile, and you felt his hands take hold of your hips as he stepped down onto the floor from the bed. He guided you toward the dresser where the mirror hung above it on the wall.

“Look at you,” he whispered. He was standing behind you with his hands on your hips, gently leaning against you, while your hands rested on the dresser in front of you. “So beautiful, you know that?”

You cast your eyes down again, letting a small huff of air escape through your nose. You felt your head shake just slightly while your face wore a sheepish smile, an unconscious display of self-doubt that had imbedded itself into your body language over the years.

“Don’t think so?” you heard him ask, “You need me to show you, mama?” His words were drawn out, and his voice was quiet.

You watched him in the mirror, your chest heaving, as you searched for a response. His hands trailed over the front of your body, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of his fingertips as they grazed slowly over your skin. You watched as his hands moved up your sides, the pads of his fingers pressing softly into the spots between your ribs before continuing up to your breasts. As his hands made contact with them, you saw his eyes flutter closed and felt a sigh tickle the shell of your ear, sending a chill up your spine, followed by a flood of warmth that spread from your middle, down to your toes, and all the way out to the tips of your fingers.

You leaned back, relaxing into him as he held you, his hands gently squeezing the swells of your breasts as he hummed against your neck. Your mouth fell open as your breath sucked in and out of it.

“Look at you, baby. Already so gorgeous under my hands.” His lips latched to your neck then, softly sucking and licking spots on the delicate expanse of skin while his thumbs toyed with your hardened nipples.

He pulled back from your neck again, letting out a sigh. “Want you to see how beautiful you look when you cum for me, lovely.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he moved one arm to bar across your chest, pulling you back to be flush against him as his other hand snaked its way between your legs. They immediately snapped together, and he chuckled.

“Shhh, you’re alright, baby,” he coaxed. You relaxed your legs and felt his fingers slip through your folds with liquid ease. He toyed with your entrance before settling on your clit, making a dripping mess of your heat. You whimpered as the tip of his middle finger held the perfect amount of pressure against you as he traced sharp circles around the bundle of nerves, igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach. Your breath picked up quickly as he continued, unrelenting in the pace of his fingers and drawing you to your edge faster than you’d expected.

“Fuckk, Josh,” you breathed.

“What is it, mama?” he cooed softly, “you want me to keep going or do you need something else?” He pressed his lips into the junction of your neck and shoulder while simultaneously pressing his hardened length against the small of your back. You let a moan escape from your chest at the feeling, and you arched your back into him. You consequently felt him smile into your neck.

“Aww sweet baby,” he hummed against your skin, “You need my cock in that gorgeous pussy?”

His middle finger made quicker, tighter circles around your clit as he spoke, fanning the flames in your stomach hard, threatening to burn out before you were ready to give it up. A whiny “please” was the only sound you could muster, and he immediately obliged.

Both of his hands moved to your back, and he gently nudged you so you’d lean down with your elbows on the dresser, giving him a solid angle to insert himself at an agonizingly slow pace. Once he’d reached as far as he could go, he smoothed his hands over the soft skin of your back as he gently pulled his hips back and pushed them forward again, making long, deep strokes.

Because of the upward angle of his thrusts, the head of his cock rubbed against the spot inside you that only he could reach with every forward movement of his hips, each one making your muscles clench around him. Gasp after gasp rattled from between your lips, and your head hung down as you leaned on your forearms.

“Come here, mama,” he panted, “Wanna hold you while you watch.”

He repositioned himself before barring his arm across your chest again while he held you flush with his own. Your head tilted back into him as you watched his hips jut into your ass, jolting your entire body. Your eyes found his, and he was already looking at you, intently watching your face as it twisted with pleasure.

“Look how gorgeous you are. So perfect for me,” he said, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

The hand that wasn’t holding you against him reached back between your legs to finish the job, and you cried out for him when his middle finger started tracing his sharp circles again. You felt your legs begin to quiver as he quickened the pace of his hips. He kept his strokes long and deep, but they were fast, each movement eliciting a whimper from you. The faster he went, the closer together your sounds became, stringing themselves together so closely that they were nearly continuous.

As you felt your orgasm take over your entire body, Josh stabilized your chin to sit straight before the mirror in front of you, and you watched the heat that he created spread throughout your being. He continuously whispered to you throughout your high, keeping it going.

“Doing so good, honey,” he breathed, “Keep fucking giving it to me. So goddamn good, mama. So pretty.”

Your mouth hung open as you continued to moan for him, and his hips started to stutter against you. He followed closely behind you with his release, painting your insides with it while you were still coming down.

The two of you stood, you leaning on the dresser in front of you and him, flush against your back, as you took turns heaving air in and out of your lungs to catch up. After you both did, you felt him softly press his lips into your shoulder and his hands reached around your middle, giving you a little squeeze.

“Wanna go take another shower?” he asked as a crinkle-eyed smile spread over his face.

You huffed out a laugh and rolled your eyes, following him back into the bathroom.

#greta van fleet #greta van smut #greta van fic #josh kiszka #gvf #starcatcher #greta van art #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf #josh kiszka smut

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tai-janai · 2 months

Text

Reunite

Path 8: Trust

(Chapter Select)

Voice of the Hero:

Y'know I- Agh.

You shudder, and your head spins a bit.

"What? What is it?"

Voice of the Hero:

They're... communicating. Through me. It's... disorienting.

"The others? The ones we freed?"

Voice of the Hero:

A... couple of them. The, uh, funny one with the dust. And the mean one after that, with the chains. I'm... relaying a conversation between them.

"What are they saying?"

The Voice searches, connecting to them.

Voice of the Hero:

They're just trying to... Yeah. We're trying to reach each other. They are, I mean.

"We're not done yet, though."

Voice of the Hero:

I mean, I know that. The cynical one wants a plan, though. It's... It's hard to reach, but I'll ask the first one, too. He was hoping for a plan early on.

"Try not to get lost up there."

Voice of the Hero:

Don't worry. I'm here with you. It isn't like before where I couldn't focus. It was just a little unsettled when two of me had to connect their thoughts.

"What were you going to say before you got cut off?"

Your wings flap from something subconscious.

Voice of the Hero:

Oh, uh, nothing. This place is, uh, pretty nice, isn't it?

It is very nice. Shiny marble walls, floor, windows. Maybe a little too shiny. A grand chandelier lighting up the room sends bright glimmers of light bouncing off of everything, practically attacking your vision.

Voice of the Hero:

None of them were ever this nice, even the marble one last time was all dusty and cracking.

A table in the corner holds the echo of the blade once again. Though it is pristine metal, it is somehow less reflective than every other thing in the room. You grab it, and once again feel the weightlessness.

Voice of the Hero:

Another cabin, another captive.

You aren't jostled. You smile confidently as you open the pretty, glistening door.

The way to the basement is hot. The floor seems to give under your feet, made of some non-newtonian fluid only barely thick enough to stay solid for a moment. It makes you hurry as not to sink. It is well-lit, but the walls are shiny, smooth, and pitch black.

Thankfully, the floor of the basement is solid. You stumble onto it, and look back to see the clawed footprints you left in the stairs.

Voice of the Hero:

God, what are those made of?

You're back!

Your head whips around to find the source of the voice.

At the end of the bright, warm room there sits a... thing. What would be the lower part of it is liquid the shade of periwinkle, drooping in a thick puddle. Its head is completely engulfed in a mane of small, pink flowers. You can only see a smiling, carved mouth. A dark chain around their neck is quite the contrast against the bright colors. What shocks you the most is its arms, which are extended, and holding something out to you. The something is moving.

Have you brought another with you? The more the merrier! Please, let me see them!

Voice of the Hero:

Actually- Uh- Aah!

Something rips at the skin of your soul, clawing and dragging something off of you. Your skin stings like it is being pulled at. You wince, then stumble.

The Hero:

Ugh... Again...

Everything itches. You and the, now separated, other you rub your faces and arms.

There, much better!

The Hero:

You didn't have to do that... I was perfectly fine in there.

Oh, but now I can clearly hear your beautiful voice!

The Other freezes for a second, thrown off, then resumes scratching at its feathers, a bit flustered.

The Hero:

You think it's nice...?

He glances around, then his gaze catches yours. You shrug and nod in agreement. He looks pretty pleased.

On edge, but not sensing immediate danger, you step towards the Being.

The pulsing thing it continuously extends to you is wet and bloody. It sits atop an unfolded, magenta flower.

The Hero:

What... is that?

"Its heart."

It's for you!

You wince. The other you recoils, bringing its hands out in front of it.

"Do you know who I am?"

The Being's bright smile folds for a moment, remembering the lonely eternity.

You are what put me here. But I offer forgiveness!

There is a whisper of desperation in its melodious voice. Its smile widens beyond what it had been.

The Hero:

He didn't put you down here, though.

The Being seems to stumble over itself, failing to hold its form. The puddle of whatever it is loses solidness.

I believe you.

Though it sinks, its beating heart is still extended to you.

Take this from me, please, dear hero.

You are confused. Why is it exposing its weakest parts to you? The Other steps back, also put off by its compliments.

"Why are you so sure I'll help you?"

I believe in forgiveness. I will give my heart to anyone who will give me theirs.

For the first time, you are the one untrusting, and the Being is trying to convince you.

"That isn't safe. What if I take your heart and don't return it?"

It melts faster.

Why would you do that? I... I rather you didn't.

"Why do you want to trust me? Why are you so willing to be hurt?"

If I have your heart, and you have mine, you won't leave, will you?

The liquid part of it has spread enough to reach the talons on your feet. It is burning hot, and you recoil. Wax, you realize. It's made of wax.

"You're melting."

Yes, my apologies, incredibly embarrassing of me. Please look past my flaws, focus on the love I have in my heart.

"This isn't good for you. Please keep your heart."

Its arms are now fully extended, as it has lowered further to the ground but continues to offer its source of life.

It is a display of my trust. My forgiveness.

A flower falls from the array on its head. Through the hole, you see the pale underneath.

It is where an eye would be, but it is the corner of a hollow socket. Roots crawl into the darkness. Fear rises in you.

"This isn't good for you. You're going to die."

You are the only thing I know. If you won't have my heart, I see no point in life at all.

The weight of the situation grips you. You kneel to it, and place your hands on the beating heart in an instant. The hot wax burns your knees and gets stuck on your feathers.

"This isn't good! Take it back, you don't have to do this!"

Two of your hands, and one of its own, are holding the bloody muscle. It raises a soft, waxy hand to your face. Another few flowers fall. An off-white core peeks through, more roots coming into view.

I am so proud you've chosen the path of redemption, hero.

"I didn't put you here. I want to get you out."

The bright smile falls once again.

I said I believe you, dear. Even if I remember differently. I don't need to leave if you're here.

The Hero:

This is... just like the others...

The Other comments in horror behind you. You push the creature's heart towards it, desperate for its survival.

"I'm sorry you've become like this. You are hurt. Please don't fall apart."

You hang your head. Your skin burns as the Being melts. Flowers drift down into the wax, crinkling and getting absorbed.

You aren't what put me here?

"If you want to trust anything, trust that."

Instead, the Being sounds even more dejected.

Why won't you accept my heart then? Why won't you give me yours? We have no reason to hate each other, no reason to be apart.

You look at it. The roots that cover the waxy skull look like cracks. They are embedded in the eye sockets gruesomely. Every flower is beautiful up close. Panic strains your voice.

"You... don't have to fall apart... to be trusted... and loved..."

The creature slowly brings its heart closer to itself. Its smile has shrunken. The wax cools, solidifying. It barely has a torso.

This is all I know. It was... so quiet without you.

"I'm sorry."

Another flower skirts down, you catch it before it joins the half-solid wax. It is soft, but it shrivels quickly.

"I'm sorry nobody was here for you."

It laughs, and comments sarcastically.

You are here, yet you deny me.

"I'll be here for what you are. Not for what you're willing to give up for me."

Only a hero, not a captor, could hold such valiant pacifism in his heart.

It drops its head, and curls in on itself, grinning.

Nay, you must be an angel.

You hear the fluttering of feathers, and you feel a sense of worry for the creature. They close in on it, pinching at you as you unstick from the wax on the floor. Chains scrape and clang, hitting the lustrous tile flooring.

You hold your resolve as the new form comes into view, kneeling with you. This one's feathers have been preened, ready for presenting and showing displays of attraction. Its scales look weak, like it has never been attacked, and never would care to defend.

Eyes blink, unseeing at first. Then the pupils find you, and it grins widely.

The Smitten:

Ah... There you are. My, you are beautiful.

You can only breathe a sigh of relief. It is safe now.

The Hero:

Y-you couldn't see us before?

The Smitten:

Well... no, I had no eyes. Everything was dark, I could only hear and feel my beating heart. Until you came, of course.

The Hero:

I dunno. No eyes never stopped any of the other guys.

It blinks, then the new one's face contorts with excited realization.

The Smitten:

There are others? More people to see?

The Hero:

Well, we're working on the "seeing" part, but there were things trapped too, and I can help you talk to them.

The new one lights up. He rises to his feet and takes you by the hand to your own.

The Smitten:

We must go and meet these others! My heart is my own but I am welcome to new faces taking up room within it!

It flutters about you, practically drifting. Whimsy pours from its exuberant voice. It is safe, and that warms your heart.

The Other speaks with a chuckle in his voice.

The Hero:

Yeah, yeah, you'll make plenty of friends. We're nearing a dozen at this point, yeah?

The Smitten:

Surely they all are just as eager as myself to finally be free and find others to share the joys of life and love!

The Hero:

Yeah, somethin' like that.

His tone is unsteady. He is thinking about the next step. You look at him uneasily.

The Smitten:

Come now! Angel, Other, I wish to see the sky once again!

Without a glimpse of the tension, the new one practically floats up the stairs.

"I'd like to... see the sky."

The pleased look on the other you's face falls, immediately sympathetic to you.

The Hero:

Hey... we're getting close, alright?

You nod. It is quiet now.

The Hero:

Should we... Should we tell him what I've gotta do?

"Don't. He'll try to stop you."

The Other mumbles and retrieves the echo.

The Hero:

He'll hate me later, though...

It walks up to you. You stare at the blade. You don't want to go. This place is nice, the Being here cares about you.

You tear your eyes from the gleaming echo and find the other you looking back at you, concerned.

The Hero:

Are you okay?

"Just get it done."

You can't help the panic that makes you flinch when the blade is raised.

Your body moves a bit, which only makes the slaying hurt more. The echo is buried in your pounding heart. You look down at it. You can... really tell it's there.

It feels like nothing when you hold it. Why is it so real as soon as it's in your chest?

The Other, noticing you're dying slower than usual, reaches for you.

The Hero:

Did... it... work?

You take a step back, recoiling from his hand.

Everything goes dark.

#cw: cursive #stp #slay the princess #voice of the hero #stp fanfic #stp fanart #fanfic #even i had trouble reading his words #and i can read cursive #not a flaw but a feature #anyway the Boys are Speaking

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