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swan-of-sunrise · 10 months

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Taking Care of Business (Chapter Forty-Two)

Summary: Once reunited, Din, (Y/N) and Grogu agree that the only way they can finally achieve a peaceful life is to confront Moff Gideon and stop him once and for all.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I’m sorry for making you guys wait, but we’ve finally arrived at the re-taking of Mandalore and the epic ass-kicking of Moff Gideon! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Forty-Two The Homecoming (Previous Chapter)

“Din! Din, behind you!”

“I can’t just stand here and watch them kill him! Din!”

“No, no! Din!”

(Y/N)’s terrified screams, Grogu’s wails and the incessant pounding of the captain’s fist on the blast door’s fortified glass echoed throughout Din’s mind as the two Stormtroopers dragged his limp body down an endless hallway to the Imperial base’s debriefing room. He blinked hard to clear his head, making sure to keep his limbs as loose as possible for the benefit of fooling his captors, and he forced himself not to imagine what Moff Gideon and his forces had in store for his family; although his wrists and ankles were tightly bound with whipcords, Din was mustering all of his strength to break free and overpower both beskar-clad Stormtroopers single-handedly and without even one of his weapons. You’ve gotten through tougher scrapes than this, he told himself as he anxiously wet his dry lips and prepared himself for his ambitious next move, now do it again for (Y/N) and Grogu.

Seizing his opportunity, Din lurched towards the nearest wall and pushed off its surface with his bound feet; his sudden action sent the Stormtroopers stumbling backwards and after head-butting one of them, he flipped the other over his shoulder and snatched the vibroblade fastened to his utility belt, slicing through the whipcords securing his ankles and drawing his bound hands back to stab the fallen Stormtrooper. The second Stormtrooper shot the vibroblade from his grasp before he could move and continued firing, forcing Din to somersault across the hallway and kick the blaster from his hands; he sprang to his feet and roughly slammed the second Stormtrooper into the wall, but was forced to raise his arms to block the blaster bolts that the first Stormtrooper fired at him and then the stream of fire from the second Stormtrooper’s flamethrower. Crouching low to the ground, Din rolled across the hallway and knocked the second Stormtrooper down and pointed his flamethrower at the panicked first Stormtrooper before slamming his fist into his helmeted head; he charged at the first Stormtrooper and wrestled the blaster from his grasp, quickly maneuvering him onto his knees and snapping his neck with one quick motion.

A whipcord wrapped itself around Din’s neck and cut off his air supply, and he was yanked backwards onto the ground at the second Stormtrooper’s feet. He grasped at the whipcord and struggled to breathe as the Stormtrooper tightened the weapon around his neck and despite his best efforts, dark spots began to appear in his vision. The Stormtrooper, taking advantage of his weakening state, grabbed his discarded blaster and pressed the muzzle against his helmet, and Din could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness.

“No.” Eyes flying open at the sound of the familiar vocabulator, Din looked over to see IG-12’s hand grasping the blaster’s muzzle; the weapon fired, the red blaster bolt ricocheting off of his beskar helmet, and an enraged Grogu crushed it in his suit’s metal hand. “No. No. No. No.”

(Y/N) appeared on the Stormtrooper’s other side and with a strong kick to the abdomen, the Stormtrooper was sent flying down the hallway and his unconscious body lay sprawled on the ground. Din rolled himself over and just as he took a deep gulp of fresh air, IG-12’s bacta sprayer administered the medicine over his upper body and made it once again difficult for him to breathe. “I’m okay…” He hoarsely reassured the concerned child and weakly waved his bound hands around to clear the air. “I’m okay.”

“Din!” His wife’s panicked face came into view as she hurriedly knelt beside him and helped him to his knees. “Grogu, can you cut him loose?”

“Yes.” Grogu piloted IG-12’s hand to slice through the whipcord, and he let out a triumphant coo when the bindings loosened.

(Y/N) spared the child a brief smile over her shoulder as she pulled the whipcords off of Din’s wrists and neck. “Thanks, little guy.” When the captain turned back around to face Din, her (Y/E/C) eyes were filled with unshed tears as she stared into the visor of his helmet. “When they took you away, sweetheart, I thought…I-I thought that you…Maker, I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.”

“Alor’ad…” Din rested one of his gloved hands on her cheek and guided one of hers to the sliver of skin between his helmet and cowl with the other, allowing her fingertips to feel the warm skin of his jaw as his thumb softly wiped one of her tears away. “I’m okay, ner cyar’ika alor’ad. Can you feel my heartbeat? I’m right here. I’m alive because of you and Grogu, and I swear on all the stars I’ll never leave your side.”

Nodding, (Y/N) smiled through her tears and rested her forehead against his in a Keldabe Kiss, and Din took the opportunity to savor the brief but intimate moment of calm before reluctantly returning to the reality of their situation when his wife quietly spoke. “He can’t keep winning, Din. Your people have been through too much at the hands of Moff Gideon and the Empire…” She pulled away to look into his visor, and he felt a surge of admiration at the fiery determination in her reddened eyes. “And I for one am sick and tired of that son of a mud-scuffer targeting my family.”

Din, understanding the meaning behind his wife’s firm statement, gave her one last Keldabe Kiss and turned to look at Grogu; the child was seated inside the IG-12 suit and watching them both with widened eyes, and the corner of Din’s mouth lifted upwards into a proud smile as he recalled how he’d crushed the Stormtrooper’s blaster without a moment of hesitancy. “Thank you for your help. Grogu, I’m going to need you to be brave for us, okay?” The child softly cooed and tilted his wrinkled head to the side as he continued. “We can’t keep running; if we don’t take out Moff Gideon, this will never end. You with us?”

Grogu gave them both a firm nod and after affectionately rubbing one of his large ears between her fingers, (Y/N) helped Din onto his feet and brought a hand up to her commlink. “Bo-Katan, come in.”

“Received. Where are you?”

“We’re safe,” (Y/N) reassured the Nite Owl while adjusting Din’s cowl for him. “Din’s escaped and we’ve got the little guy with us.”

“We’re going after Moff Gideon,” Din added. “Do you have a location?”

“No. We are under attack; I have to get the troops to safety.”

Din buried his disappointment and nodded. “Understood.”

“Stay safe, you three.”

“You too, Bo.” Dropping her hand from her comm, (Y/N) turned to Din with an expectant look on her face. “Since you’re our clan’s resident bounty hunter, I take it you’ll be leading the way to Moff Gideon?”

Beneath his helmet, Din pursed his lips to keep from chuckling as he was reminded of their playful banter regarding bounty hunters versus smugglers. “Naturally. And as our resident smuggler, you’re gonna help us evade as many Stormtroopers as possible until we can get our hands on some weapons.”

(Y/N) grinned as she playfully elbowed IG-12’s arm. “You sure are getting a well-rounded education from having the two of us as your guardians, huh, little guy?” Grogu babbled in agreement and the captain looked over at Din with a self-assured gleam illuminating her beautiful face. “Now, let’s take back Mandalore once and for all.”

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Din hadn’t hunted down a bounty in some time, but navigating the halls of the Imperial base and evading pairs of Stormtroopers at every turn was beginning to help him tap into his dormant bounty hunting talents. Thanks to their adventures at the hidden Imperial laboratory on Nevarro and the light cruiser they’d infiltrated to rescue Grogu, he had an idea of the base’s overall layout and was able to track the Imperial commander’s path while (Y/N) successfully ensured that the three of them remained unseen, taking advantage of the hallways’ niches and blind spots that the Stormtrooper’s bulky helmets caused.

“We’re getting close to something important,” (Y/N) murmured as they waited for two armed Stormtroopers to pass by their hiding spot. “Why else would there be so many Imps around here?”

“I agree, which is why we should call in our back-up now.” Seeing that the Stormtroopers were gone, the three of them slowly edged around the hallway’s corner and continued forward while Din spoke into his helmet’s commlink. “R5. Come in, R5. We need you, buddy.” He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the astromech’s familiar chirps and whistles, thankful that the droid had listened to their instructions earlier that day and stayed on the planet’s surface when the Armorer transported the injured Mandalorians up to the fleet in the Gauntlet. “You’re gonna have to scomp into the base and get us the location of Moff Gideon’s command center.”

The astromech’s panicked beeps were illegible to Din, but (Y/N) nodded sympathetically and replied, “I’m sorry, Din doesn’t speak Binary. We’re counting on you, R5, and we know that a Rebel hero like you can get the job done.” Din tilted his head at the captain’s flattery and she shrugged, reaching up to cover her commlink before whispering, “He’s got very fragile nerves, but he’s making his way down into the base as we speak.”

They ushered Grogu around another corner and pressed themselves against the wall to avoid a pair of Stormtroopers jogging by. “We can’t show up at that command center unarmed, alor’ad; you’re sure you don’t have any weapons on you?”

“I lost my blaster when we ran into a Stormtrooper right before finding you, and the only other thing I’ve got is a sewing needle.”

Din heaved a sigh and glanced over his shoulder at the jetpack he’d stolen off of one of the dead Stormtroopers, thankful for the useful device but cursing the Empire for failing to commission more weaponry to their personnel. “We’ll have to make do until a lone Stormtrooper passes our way.” They pushed themselves off the wall and quietly made their way down the hall, and he pursed his lips in impatience. “R5, how are those schematics coming?”

Several moments later, a series of beeps came through the comms and an image projected itself out of Din’s vambrace, making (Y/N) beam and Grogu coo excitedly. “We’ve got it. Great job, R5!”

“Thanks, buddy, you’ve done good.” When his wife arched a brow at his praise, he shrugged indifferently. “He’s not so bad, I guess…for a droid.” He raised his arm and together, they studied the detailed hologram. “That’s the command center; the communication log says that’s where he operates from.”

“Then that’s where we’re going.” (Y/N) gave Grogu an encouraging smile. “Ready?”

The child nodded and patted one of the buttons on his vocabulators. “Yes.”

Din patted the top of his wrinkled head as he passed him by and led them down another hallway. “Stay close, kid. Let’s go.”

With the Imperial base’s schematics to guide them, the three of them continued down the hallways and tunnels until they came upon a large doorway that glowed with vibrant red lights. Din’s hand guided (Y/N) and Grogu flush against the wall as he briefly peeked around the corner, furrowing his brow at the sight of a grand hall divided by several barrier shields guarded by two Stormtroopers each; eight armed Stormtroopers dressed in beskar won’t be easy to defeat, he thought to himself as his mind raced to think up a battle plan, but we’ll just have to make it work.

“The command center is down there,” Din softly explained when he pulled away from the corner to meet (Y/N) and Grogu’s concerned gazes. “We don’t have any weapons, so this might get messy; the barrier shields are dividing the Stormtroopers into four groups of two. I’ll go in and take each pair out while you stay here with Grogu and direct R5 to open the next barrier when I give you the signal.” The captain opened her mouth to argue, but Din was faster. “Alor’ad, you’re a fearsome warrior and the best pilot I know, but even you have to admit that your hand-to-hand combat skills aren’t developed enough to take on over a dozen beskar-clad enemies just yet.”

A miffed (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest but gave him a reluctant nod. “Fine, but I’m only agreeing with you because I speak Binary…and because you said I’m the best pilot you know.”

Half amused and half exasperated, Din lifted the edge of his helmet up to press a soothing kiss onto his wife’s furrowed brow. “Ner atin alor’ad. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

“You’d better be.” (Y/N) stole a quick kiss before he lowered his helmet into place and brought her hand up to her comm. “R5, there’s some barrier shields. We’re gonna need you to deactivate them one at a time on my command, okay?” The astromech beeped out his reply and when Din gave her a firm nod, she continued. “Deactivate the first shield.”

Din charged around the corner the moment he heard the barrier shield fizzle out, punching the first Stormtrooper hard in the front of his helmet and kicking the legs out from under the second; he snatched the fallen Stormtrooper’s vibroblade and turned in time to grab the first Stormtrooper’s blaster wrist, stabbing him several times in the stomach and using his dying body to block the second Stormtrooper’s blaster fire. He tossed the beskar-clad corpse aside and threw the vibroblade at the second Stormtrooper, hitting him square in the exposed section of his neck, but he narrowly missed grabbing the blaster as his lifeless body toppled into the endless chasm beside the walkway. Cursing under his breath, Din grabbed the vibroblade tucked into the first Stormtrooper’s boot and turned to face the next barrier shield; the Stormtroopers on the other side were panicking and slamming their hands on the control panels nearby, but it appeared that the surprisingly tenacious astromech jammed all their signals. When they saw that Din was staring, the two nearest Stormtroopers quickly armed themselves with electro batons and shields.

“R5, next shield!” (Y/N) called into her comm.

The second barrier shield fizzled out and Din sprinted forward, slicing the first Stormtrooper’s arm and carving a deep cut into the second’s thigh; the second Stormtrooper slammed his electro baton into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards into the first Stormtrooper’s electro baton. Gritting his teeth, Din charged at the second Stormtrooper and shoved him into the third barrier shield with a well-placed hit with his knee, then turned in time to catch the first Stormtrooper’s wrist and slam him against the floor. He scooped up his electro baton and caught the swing that the second Stormtrooper aimed at his head before knocking his legs out from under him and kicking the first Stormtrooper roughly in the head as he struggled to stand, knocking the screaming Imp into the chasm and reaching to grab his discarded shield.

An anxious-sounding (Y/N) yelled behind him, “R5, next shield!”

The third barrier shield fizzled out and with his electro baton and shield raised, Din launched himself at the next two Stormtroopers; he rammed his shield into the first Imp, sending him flying backwards into the fourth barrier shield, and deflected blaster fire from the second before electrifying his leg and sending him crashing to the ground. He electrocuted the first Stormtrooper and knocked him unconscious, tossing his electro baton aside and grabbing the blaster holstered at the Stormtrooper’s waist; when the second Stormtrooper staggered to his feet and began firing his own blaster, Din was forced to duck behind his shield and lay down blaster fire as the hallway filled with smoke.

“(Y/N), have R5 deactivate the next shield!” He called out over the deafening noise.

“R5, next shield!” When nothing happened and no beeps could be heard on the other side of their commlinks, (Y/N) anxiously repeated herself. “R5, next shield!” Din and the second Stormtrooper continued firing at one another, and Din was beginning to worry that he might overheat his weapon if the astromech didn’t act soon. “Din, R5 isn’t answering!”

“R5!” Din barked into his comm. “R5, next shield!” With a lucky final shot from his newly-jammed blaster, the second Stormtrooper dropped to the floor and Din sprinted past his dead body as the fourth barrier shield fizzled out, sliding on his knees and bowling over the first Stormtrooper with ease; he slid past the second Stormtrooper and scooped up his partner’s discarded blaster before jumping to his feet and shooting both Imps dead. Din’s chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath and when he looked out at the smoke-filled hallway littered with the corpses of several Stormtroopers, he nodded to himself and called out into his comm, “R5, good job, buddy…”

At the opposite end of the hall, (Y/N) and Grogu cautiously emerged from around the corner and the captain let out an impressed whistle. “Only you could make hand-to-hand combat look like an art form, sweetheart.” She stepped over the sprawled bodies as she led Grogu’s IG-12 suit down the walkway to where Din stood, pausing a moment to scoop up one of the last Stormtrooper’s blasters and holding it at the ready as she spoke into her comm. “You did a wonderful job, R5. Can you open the next door?”

The doors slowly swung open and both Din and (Y/N) cautiously stepped into the chamber, their blasters raised and their eyes darting around in search of any hidden threats. When they found none, they continued forward and examined the rows of tanks that lined each side of the chamber; Din frowned when he made out the humanoid forms floating in the murky liquid and the longer he looked at them, the more he began to suspect what exactly they were. “Wait here,” Din spoke to (Y/N) and Grogu before walking down to the end of the chamber and examining the control console; he fiddled with the knobs and watched the detailed Aurebesh notes flash by, and his eyes widened beneath his helmet. “Dank farrik, they’re clones…”

From her spot in the middle of the chamber, (Y/N) stifled a gasp and tried her best to calm an understandably fearful Grogu. “It’s okay, little guy, that’s not Gideon. These are his clones.”

Grogu squealed in terror and when Din’s head whipped around, he saw that several of the clones had opened their eyes. One imploring look from (Y/N) had Din switching on the tanks’ self-destruction function; he knew in his heart that for the sake of his family and the galaxy, Moff Gideon’s clones could never be allowed to see the light of day. “Let’s go!”

The lights switched off and as (Y/N) and Grogu ran to Din, the tanks rumbled and began to burst open; the three of them fled the flooding chamber while emergency alarms blared, not stopping until they came upon a closed set of doors. As they halted their movements, the doors slowly slid open and after exchanging a wary look, Din and (Y/N) led the way into the cavernous command center with their blasters raised. A blue-hued hologram of the Imperial base’s schematics was on display in the center of the room but before they could examine it, the doors behind them slid shut on their own accord.

“Oh, that’s not good.” (Y/N) hurried to the closed doors and pressed every button on its control panel, but nothing happened. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

The hologram flickered twice before vanishing and revealing the double doors sliding open at the opposite end of the chamber; Din ducked into a niche while (Y/N) and Grogu hid behind the niche directly across from his just as a chillingly familiar voice rang out through the chamber. “My clones were finally going to be perfect! The best parts of me, but improved by adding the one thing I never had: the Force.” Moff Gideon’s voice shook with rage as he spoke, and Din’s grip tightened around the hilt of his blaster in anticipation, thanking the Maker that he’d destroyed the clones when he had the opportunity. “I was isolating the potential to wield the Force, and incorporating it into an unstoppable army.” Across the chamber, (Y/N)’s jaw tightened but he could see a hint of fear in his wife’s gaze. “And you smothered them before they could draw their first breath.”

In perfect synchronization, Din and (Y/N) leapt out of their hiding spots and fired their blasters at the beskar-clad Imperial commander. Moff Gideon merely smiled and blocked the blaster bolts with his vambrace before firing a missile at them, forcing Din to hastily shove (Y/N) against the wall to avoid the projectile; it flew across the command center and exploded in a massive fireball against the locked doors as Din shielded the captain’s body from the blast. They both looked back to the Imperial commander, who had donned his horned beskar helmet, and with one brief glance, they pushed off the wall and charged towards him with their blasters blazing. Din activated the jetpack he’d stolen off a dead Stormtrooper and launched himself through the air, slamming into Moff Gideon and sending him skidding back several feet into the base’s hangar. Before Din could react, he was flipped over the Imperial commander’s head and sent hurtling into a stack of cargo crates, knocking him senseless for a few moments and causing him to groan in pain.

Moff Gideon kicked his discarded blaster away as he strode towards Din, but (Y/N) appearing behind him and firing her blaster at point-blank range was enough to momentarily draw his attention away from Din, giving him several precious moments to stagger to his feet and watch as the Imperial commander kicked (Y/N) halfway across the platform. Din’s vision went red and he threw a punch at Moff Gideon’s helmeted head, but he effortlessly caught his fist in one hand and used the other to strike him over and over; his hand closed around Din’s throat and he roughly threw him against the ground, forcing Din to scramble out of the away just as his fist slammed into the spot where he’d landed and cracked the stone floor.

Din’s eyes widened beneath his helmet as three figures dressed in ornate red armor and carrying electro-bisentos emerged from between stacks of cargo crates; knowing that he was without a single weapon and already weak from Moff Gideon’s attack, he squared his shoulders and started forward to confront the trio of warriors. The warrior on his right swung his electro-bisentos first and Din expertly dodged it, ducking beneath the other two weapons and blocking a strike with his vambrace before kicking one of the warriors in the head. He was taken by surprise when one of the electro-bisentos collided with his shoulder, sending a stinging pain coursing throughout his entire body and giving one of the warriors the opportunity to slam their weapon into his helmet, a hit that knocked him flat onto his stomach; he writhed in agony when the tip of an electro-bisentos pierced into the unarmored section of his shoulder and struggled to lift himself up off the ground, but he was quickly surrounded by the red-armored warriors and a boot pressed down on his back to hold him in place.

“No. No. No.”

Din forced himself to crane his neck and sucked in a fearful gasp when he saw (Y/N) and Grogu standing side-by-side in front of the command center’s doorway, the captain’s blaster drawn and already firing at the three red-armored warriors as the child smashed his clawed hand against IG-12’s vocabulators. To Din’s utter horror, the three warriors abandoned him on the ground and charged at them with their electro-bisentos raised for battle, forcing (Y/N) and Grogu to retreat back into the command center where they had no chance of escape.

“No!” Din cried, scrambling to his feet and sprinting as fast as he could after them; he was knocked down by a missile fired from Moff Gideon’s vambrace and when he picked himself up, he was met with the terrifying sight of the command center’s doors sliding shut and trapping his family with the three highly-skilled warriors.

Din ran to the door’s control panel, but a whipcord wrapped itself around his neck and he was instantly thrown onto the ground by his own momentum; he yanked on the whipcord in a desperate attempt to free himself, but Moff Gideon merely tugged him back across the platform and kicked him hard in the torso. Although his vision was blurred by a lack of oxygen and stinging tears, Din spotted the vibroblade tucked into his boot and quickly snatched it from him, slicing through the whipcord just as a concentrated stream of fire washed over him. Tightening his grip on his new weapon and gritting his teeth, Din jumped to his feet and launched himself at the Imperial commander; he slashed and parried with all the strength he possessed and while they exchanged blows, he was unwittingly reminded of their vicious duel on the light cruiser. Just as he’d done once before, he had to defeat Moff Gideon and protect his family from the Empire’s lingering danger, but unlike the last time, he vowed to himself that their second duel would end with the Imperial commander dead at his feet.

On my name and the names of the Ancestors, Moff Gideon will not leave this planet alive, Din swore to himself as he kicked his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to his knees. He swung his balled fist at Moff Gideon’s helmet-covered face, but it was caught by his quick hand; Din’s knees started to buckle while his fingers were crushed in the Imperial commander’s iron grip, and the hard impact of his knee hitting his beskar-covered face sent a searing pain to his nose. One of Moff Gideon’s hands wrapped around his neck and lifted him into the air, high enough so that the tips of his boots were barely brushing against the ground, then flung him down onto the platform behind him.

The wind was knocked out of Din’s lungs and his body ached from being tossed around, but he forced himself to scoot back as Moff Gideon slowly strode towards him, trying in vain to come up with a plan to defeat the powerful Imperial commander and save his family before it was too late. His salvation came in the form of a blurred figure wearing blue and white beskar armor, who slammed directly into Moff Gideon and sent him sprawling onto the hangar’s platform before turning to face Din. “I’ve got this,” Bo-Katan reassured him as she gestured towards the sealed command center. “Go save your kid.”

With a hasty nod of thanks, Din scrambled to his feet and hurried across the platform to the command center’s control panel, only slowing down to scoop up two discarded blasters; it was only then that he finally took note of the intense sky battle raging on high above between the Mandalorians and the beskar-clad Stormtroopers, and a quick glance over his shoulder showed him the ferocious duel that Bo-Katan and Moff Gideon were engaged in. He skidded to a halt in front of the command center doors and slammed his foot against the control panel’s buttons, impatiently waiting for the doors to slide open wide enough for him to slip through and bursting into the command center with his blasters raised. It only took Din a split-second to evaluate the situation – a dazed-looking (Y/N) was propped up against the wall with a broken blaster laying beside her and Grogu was pinned down beneath several pieces of scrap metal in front of her as two red-armored warriors advanced and the third lay dead on the floor beside the destroyed remains of IG-12 – and with that, he fired off two shots that hit each warrior in the back and charged into battle.

The first warrior hadn’t yet recovered from Din’s surprise attack when the second withdrew an electro-chain whip and wrapped it around his left wrist, forcing him to drop his blaster as a searing pain coursed through his body. Din grimaced beneath his helmet and shot the second warrior in the shin but before he could wrench his wrist free, the first warrior swung his electro-bisentos and Din blocked it with his vambrace; the force of the blow knocked his other blaster from his grasp and the first warrior raised his weapon for another attack, but was thrown back by an invisible shove as Grogu let out an enraged cry.

“Thanks, kid!” Din wrapped his hand around the electro-chain fastened around his wrist and yanked the second warrior onto the ground.

“Din!” Whirling around, he saw that (Y/N) had dragged herself across the command center to the third warrior’s dead body and retrieved his vibroblade. “Catch!”

The captain tossed the weapon across the room and Din lunged to catch it, ducking out of the way of the first warrior’s attack and elbowing him hard in the face; before he could use the vibroblade, the second warrior’s electro-chain slammed into his back and he fell onto the ground beside Grogu, who’d crawled his way out from beneath the scrap metal. The first warrior’s electro-bisentos swung down but just before it could make contact with Din’s neck, its momentum was halted when the child raised his clawed hand and used the Force to protect Din; Din kicked the legs out from under the first warrior and rolled onto his feet, scooping up one of his blasters and shooting the first warrior several times and planting a hard kick onto the second warrior’s chest as he lunged towards (Y/N). The first warrior staggered towards him, but Din easily knocked the electro-bisentos from his grasp and drove his vibroblade into the narrow gap between his helmet and chestplate, kicking his dead body away before shooting the second warrior until he lay dead at his feet.

Din’s chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath and once he was sure that all three red-armored warriors were dead, he ripped off his helmet and hurried to where (Y/N) was sprawled on the ground. “Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, are you all right?!” He discarded his helmet and helped his wife sit up, his gloved hands supporting her body as his eyes frantically searched her for any injuries.

“I-I’m okay, sweetheart.” (Y/N) comforted him with a smile, despite the rapidly-swelling bruise that spanned her cheekbone and the drying blood that trickled down the side of her face. “I hit my head when that son of a mud-scuffer slammed me into the wall, but I definitely made sure to repay the favor.”

Din chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, I can see that.” He littered her forehead and uninjured cheek with kisses as his eyes welled with tears. “I’ve never been more afraid than when those doors sealed you two in here with those warriors, alor’ad. I thought I lost you.”

His wife’s (Y/E/C) eyes shone with unshed tears and she nodded in understanding. “I know the feeling all too well.” Her hand reached up to brush some wayward strands of hair away from his forehead and she leaned in to capture his lips in a brief but meaningful kiss that he was quick to return; after several moments, they pulled away from one another and (Y/N) beamed down at Grogu as he crawled into her lap and nuzzled his face against her stomach. “You know, this little guy saved my ass a couple of times; after I took down the warrior who attacked me, he used the Force to keep the other two away from me.” She ducked her head to give the child’s wrinkled head a kiss. “Grogu was very, very brave.”

Din’s heart swelled with pride as he patted Grogu’s head and smiled when he cooed. “You did good, kid.” Just as the captain opened her mouth to reply, a panicked look overtook her earlier happiness and Din’s brow furrowed in confusion as she held a hand up to her commlink. “What is it, alor’ad?”

“That was Axe; he’s crashing the light cruiser into the Imperial base, and we only have minutes to evacuate.”

A sense of understanding passed between them, and Din found himself slipping his helmet back on and helping his wife stand before reaching down and grabbing both discarded blasters; he offered her one of the blasters and gave her a firm nod. “For Mandalore.”

The corner of (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards as she replied, “May the Force be with us.”

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When Clan Mudhorn emerged from the command center and stepped out onto the hangar’s platform, Din walked in front of his family and used his beskar-clad body as a shield. Several feet away stood Moff Gideon, who was striding towards a crouched and helmetless Bo-Katan with purpose while he brandished his electrostaff and spoke. “The Darksaber is gone.” The Imperial commander’s black and crimson cape brushed against the shattered remains of the blade’s hilt as he stepped past it, and Din’s eyes widened in surprise beneath his helmet. “You’ve lost everything. Mandalorians are weak once they lose their trinkets.”

The Nite Owl’s eyes landed on Clan Mudhorn standing behind Moff Gideon, and her exhausted face morphed into a vengeful smile as she shook her head. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Together, Din and (Y/N) fired their blasters at Moff Gideon and advanced forward as he was forced towards the platform’s edge; Bo-Katan rolled out of the way while the Imperial commander dropped his electrostaff and began returning blaster fire from his suit’s vambrace, and Din used his free arm to ensure that the captain’s body was shielded from the blaster bolts whizzing past. The four of them were suddenly thrown onto the floor and as sparks rained down, Din looked up to see the burning remains of the Imperial light cruiser crashing into the base’s opening high above them.

A startled cry caused Din’s heart to leap into his throat and when his head whipped around, he saw (Y/N) drop to the ground and the sight of the clutching her leg caused him to surge towards her. “Alor’ad!”

He wrapped his body around hers as Moff Gideon’s blaster bolts ricocheted off his armor and out of nowhere, Bo-Katan slid in between them and used her glowing shield gauntlet to protect them. More and more smoldering debris fell onto the platform and forced Din to pull (Y/N) onto her feet, supporting her with one arm as he fired his blaster at Moff Gideon with the other; the Nite Owl let out a guttural battle cry and charged towards the Imperial commander as she fired her blaster, while Grogu waved his clawed hand and used the Force to shove Moff Gideon back onto the plaform. (Y/N) launched herself into the line of blaster fire and expertly shot the electrostaff into the crevice below the platform and when Moff Gideon aimed his blaster at his family, Din dropped to his knees and slid in front of them as he fired his blaster without prejudice.

As a towering ball of fire descended onto the platform, Bo-Katan hurried to their side and thrust her shield gauntlet above their heads; Din pulled (Y/N) and Grogu close to protect them from the falling sparks, all while watching a screaming Moff Gideon be consumed by the blazing inferno with a sense of dark satisfaction. Burying his beskar-covered face in his wife’s neck, Din waited for the inevitable rush of heat and the brunt impact of debris from the destruction of the Imperial base…but none came.

“Din…” He opened his eyes at (Y/N)’s awed whisper and pulled back to see that they were surrounded on all sides by an invisible shield, the wondrous expression on the captain’s face illuminated by the flames that harmlessly swirled around them. “Look.”

Din’s eyes followed hers and widened when he saw Grogu standing in front of all three of them, his tiny arms raised as he manipulated the Force with the ease of a true Jedi padawan. It seemed as though it were only yesterday when he’d used his special abilities to save Din, Greef, Cara and IG-11 from Moff Gideon’s forces back on Nevarro, and the comparison nearly made Din choke up with pride for his foundling. Good job, kid, he thought to himself on the off-chance that the child could understand his silent message through the Force, you really are one of a kind, ner kotep ad’ika.

Bo-Katan breathed out a awestruck laugh as she deactivated her shield gauntlet and sat back onto her shins. “You two’ve got one hell of a foundling.”

“We sure do-” (Y/N)’s satisfied smile morphed into a grimace and she looked down at the blaster wound on her shin. “Maker, everything they say about getting shot directly on a bone is true.��

Din winced in sympathy, knowing all too well how painful that sort of blaster wound could be, and he rubbed a soothing gloved hand across her back to distract her from the discomfort. “Everything’s gonna be all right, alor’ad; we’ll get you to one of the fleet’s medics and they’ll patch you up in no time.”

When the fire began to die down, Grogu lowered his arms and the protective shield melted away as they cautiously got to their feet; the exhausted child plopped down onto the ground and with a silent chuckle, Din scooped him up and held him in the crook of his elbow while Bo-Katan supported (Y/N). The smouldering remains of the secret Imperial base and the noticeable absence of Moff Gideon filled Din with a sense of satisfaction, and he knew in his heart that they’d just won a final victory over the Empire; Mandalore once again belonged to the Mandalorians, both factions disregarded centuries of bad blood and finally came together as one, and Clan Mudhorn was free to live a peaceful life away from the looming threat of Moff Gideon. And as he stood alongside his fearless wife and loyal friend and held his precious foundling close to his chest, Din finally allowed himself to breathe.

This is the Way.

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

Mando’a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain Ner cyar’ika alor’ad-My darling captain Ner atin alor’ad-My stubborn captain Ner kotep ad’ika-My brave son

A/N: Yeah, I really wouldn’t wanna get on the bad side of Clan Mudhorn lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Forty-Three Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95 @welcometothepedroverse @sarahjkl82-blog @elinedjarin @ccomandercody @crowleysqueenofhell @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001 @groovyqueer @impala1967666 @fluffy-canada-pancakes @icee228 @siimiasoi

#taking care of business #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #baby yoda #bo katan kryze #the armorer #paz vizsla #axe woves #koska reeves #moff gideon #star wars

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potatoes-is-are-food · 3 years

Text

Demon Shit [part 6]

Warnings: foursome, threesome, blood, dubcon(ish)

word count is ~8600

This isn’t the end for the series but it is the end of the initial adventure before everyone was present!

Tomura demanded to carry you again, slinging you onto his back effortlessly and letting you cling contently to him as you wound through streets yet again, leaving Dabi to carry the bag of supplies. The journey was much shorter this time, though, and it was only a few minutes before he was setting you in front of another creepy back-alley door and shoving you inside. That was where the similarities ended.

This room was much bigger than you’d expected, already lit by candles scattered around on various surfaces. Instead of a chalk circle on the floor there was an altar with chains dangling off it and a knife in the center that had you nervously looking to Dabi. He ruffled your hair and snorted,

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything,” he pinched your cheek, “It’s not for you, little sacrifice,” he began setting the engraved candles he brought on the floor around the altar. The smell made you grimace and Tomura pinched your side teasingly. He joined the raven-haired demon, scattering most of the red feathers in a pattern along the altar and haphazardly flinging the rest to the floor.

Dabi turned his attention back to you while Tomura lit the candles, an odd scent slowly permeating through the room and making your skin crawl and head spin. You started to lose your balance as you inhaled the smoke, stumbling into his arms and almost drunkenly leaning into him. He removed all the outermost clothing from your pliant little body, cradling you when you slumped against him in only your dress and stockings.

“Feel good?” he chuckled, brushing his fingers against your warm cheeks. You hazily beamed up at him, a floating sensation making your skin tingle and bringing a dopey smile to your face as you nodded. He kissed you and you moaned freely into it, inhibitions growing smaller and smaller by the second. You wrapped your arms around his neck and when he hoisted you into his arms your legs immediately locked around his waist, hands roaming his shoulders and chest more than you’d allowed yourself before, trying to seem polite despite how stupid that seemed in retrospect.

He groaned when you forced your tongue into his mouth for a change, desperation having replaced all traces of shyness as heat started to build in your body. You cradled his face, gently trailing your fingers along his stapled skin as he held you. You felt feverish, close to delirium and unable to hold onto any thoughts other than an incoherent string of “Dabi, fuck, Tomura, fuck, kiss-” his tongue pinched yours between its split, toying with you for a few more moments before he pulled away, steam practically rising from your lips as they parted. You panted, half-lidded and out of focus as he set you down on the altar, the cold metal nearly enough of a shock to your skin to make you regain some sobriety.

Tomura coaxed you gently onto your back, stealing his own small kiss from your lips before linking the cuff on the end of one of the chains around your wrist. He laughed as you whined softly, trying to reach for him and pull him back only to be stopped by Dabi repeating the action to your other wrist. They each cuffed an ankle as well and Tomura held the knife out over your body, taking Dabi’s wrist in his free one.

The second the knife touched his disfigured skin, every candle aside from the ones carved in runes on the floor went out. You couldn’t see much at all with all the smoke clouding your vision and almost no light. You could hear the slice and feel Dabi’s blood hitting your abdomen, a drop and then a light splash, hot liquid instantly seeping through your dress and nearly burning your skin. You whimpered, feeling several more drops trail up your chest before registering the sound of the knife being passed and another sickening slice.

Blood seeped through your dress all the way from your shoulders down to the tops of your thighs. You heard wet, sloppy drinking sounds and what seemed to be an equally messy kiss before a pair of rough lips sealed over yours, tongue parting your lips and forcing the unexpectedly sweet liquid down your throat. You choked, not expecting the volume that flooded your mouth, swallowing as much as you could but still feeling some dribble down the sides of your face. You gasped as he pulled away and it happened again, Dabi’s lips this time forcing demonic blood into your mouth.

Then they were gone, the last of the light from the candles snuffed out in their absence and a chill biting into your skin. You shivered, instinctively trying to pull your arms back to your body but being unable to, shackles clanking against the increasingly cold metal of the altar. You struggled despite knowing it was in vain, mind still a mess from whatever that smoke was. Your eyes strained in the dark, feeling a presence but unable to perceive it any tangible way. Your breaths came out in panicked bursts, chest heaving slightly as adrenaline pumped into your veins. Then you felt the breath blowing back on you. Directly from above your face.

“Boo,” he whispered. You screamed, kicking weakly and struggling against the heavy chains anchoring you down. The druggy haze made your body feel heavy and your meager movements took enough effort to leave you exhausted after just a few seconds.

“Dabi!” you cried, although it sounded much more like a moan than you’d meant, as the figure above lowered his face to your neck before stopping abruptly. The lack of movement stilled you, tears rolling down your face as you hyperventilated and sobbed quietly. A long silence passed and then you got to properly hear his voice,

“Dabi?” His voice sounded lighter, somehow sweeter than the ones you’d become used to. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, when light blinded you as all the candles reignited, making you clench your eyes shut for a brief moment until they settled back into a dim glow. The being hovering over your shaking body was unlike anything you’d ever seen. Ethereally beautiful; his golden eyes pierced into yours. Every angle of his face was sharp, as though he’d been carved from a precious stone into the form of perfection. In a strange way you couldn’t place, he reminded you slightly of Dabi.

He terrified you a little. More than Tomura had at first. A hand came from behind, gripping his blonde locks and jerking him back and off of you. You noticed the rest of him was perfect, too, but his wings were what made you stare. They were brighter than the feathers Tomura had scattered around, shimmering variants of red visible even in the low light. He swiftly ripped two of them out, holding them like swords as they stiffened in his hands. Tomura had pulled him off you, baring his sharp teeth at the winged demon, who seemed to calm at the sight of him.

Dabi was suddenly beside you, releasing you from your chains. You sat up, immediately flocking to his arms and cowering in his chest. He trailed a thumb along your cheek bone, collecting the lingering wetness on your skin and licking it off. Despite fear flooding your veins you sill found yourself resisting the urge to stroke his skin under his shirt. Tomura came to your other side, pulling you from Dabi as he started slowly towards the blonde.

“Kei…” he started, holding up his hands in an attempt to seem nonthreatening. Tomura pulled you to sit in his lap, head resting against his shoulder as he pet up and down your back. You shifted slightly, nervously watching the exchange. You shivered, burrowing closer into the white-haired demon whose touch also seemed to set your skin on fire. You nearly purred when his hand came up to stroke your hair. If the whole situation didn’t have you so scared you’d have been pawing to get his clothes off.

“You… fucking… asshole,” Keigo spat, fury tainting his perfect face.

“Fuck, man, get over it already,” Dabi sighed, “it was forever ago! I said I was sorry!” Keigo lunged, knocking him on his back and hovering dangerously close to his face.

“He was mine!” he shouted, rearing back and punching him in the face. You gasped, lurching forward only to be held back by Tomura. He hit him again. And again.

“Please stop!” you screeched, managing to get one hand free and frantically reaching. Keigo looked up at you and in the second he was distracted Dabi got loose enough to kick him, sending him into the wall and making him cough from the impact to his chest. Their fighting was oddly...sexual? There was certainly a lot of tension in it that wasn’t just fueled by anger, but you wondered if the smoke was making you imagine it.

“It’s fine, doll,” he gave you a wink, making another obvious swing Keigo easily stopped. He grabbed his arm, twisting it behind Dabi’s back and using his other hand to pull his head back by his black hair. His lips ghosted the seam held together by his staples as he muttered something you couldn’t hear. He gripped his hair harder, pulling his head back further while Dabi’s free hand made its way to one of Kei’s wings. You expected him to set it on fire or something, but instead he gave it a tug.

The moan that slipped past Keigo’s lips was divine, sending a throb directly through your core. Your eyes went wide as you watched them struggle, still hurting each other as they wrestled to the ground. You looked to Tomura who just shrugged and made you stand so he could untie his shoe and pull it off.

He grumbled to himself for a moment while he worked the laces before throwing it at the two writhing on the floor. It hit Keigo in the back of the head and he glared up at Tomura before seeming to remember you were there. He swatted once more at Dabi and shuffled to his feet, approaching you as though he was trying not to seem too eager. He took his time eyeing you up and down, taking in the blood on your dress, dried tears on your face, and lack of shoes.

“I thought you said you were gonna take care of your next sacrifice,” he scoffed, “What the hell is this?” He turned to give Dabi a snide look, only to be smacked again with the same shoe from the opposite direction. His feathers bristled and he shot one at him, lodging it in the side of his face and smirking as he pulled it out with a grimace.

Keigo stooped to your level and let his eyes roam your face. Your brows furrowed and you started to sink back towards Tomura, but he stopped you with a firm hand on your back, forcing you to stay up for inspection while he took his shoe back. Kei reached up and trailed his fingers along your cheek, eyes intensely focused on yours. You trembled, feeling small and cold and messy after his comment. You could also feel warm wetness seeping through your panties from the effects of the smoke and would rather die than have him see it drip down past the hem of your dress. If he could tell, he pretended not to.

“So you’re actually gonna share for once, huh?” His golden eyes locked onto Dabi behind you. You assumed he must’ve nodded, because Kei set them back on you again, “Don’t think this makes up for what you did,” he leaned closer, prompting you to unconsciously do the same. His lips were soft when he finally closed the distance, almost unsettling after how used to rough textures you’d gotten. He kissed you like you were made of glass, gently wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to draw you closer as his tongue breached your lips. That too was weirdly normal with no added length or split down the center.

You kissed him back stiffly, wringing your hands nervously despite every cell in your body screaming at you to throw yourself at him. Dabi hadn’t encouraged this like he did when you met Tomura and it felt weird. Not that you could deny it felt good too, though. The sensation made you shake and feel as though you might collapse. When he pulled away he sighed,

“Relax, baby, I don’t bite,” he trailed kisses along your jaw, gripping your neck loosely with his thumb over your artery, “...too hard,” he muttered, nipping one of the many hickeys littering your neck. It hurt less than when the other two did it since he lacked fangs or an entire mouth full of pointed teeth, but you yelped nonetheless, reaching a hand back to Tomura. He pulled you out of Keigo’s hold and into his lap when you stumbled and fell back. You were at least grateful the fabric of your dress could soak up some of the copious amounts of fluid threatening to drip onto the floor.

“Ease up, pretty boy,” he grumbled, stroking your arm. The contact made you nearly moan, but you stifled it. Tomura scoffed at Kei, “Since when am I the responsible one?”

“Do you not remember your first interaction with her?” Dabi snickered. You turned to look at him, feeling more secure the second he glanced at you. He’d been wiping the blood and feathers up, shoving everything back into the bag he’d carried it in before and flinging it to the side when he was satisfied. Then he came to you, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he looked you over before tilting your face back towards his friend. The gentle yet authoritative action only worsened the growing problem between your legs and it was all you could do to stifle another whine threatening to fall from your lips.

“C’mon, Keigo, look at her,” he cooed, “Isn’t she pretty?” Your eyes flicked back to Kei, watching him appraise you again as he grumbled. You could feel the lust hazing across your eyes as you gazed at him more openly than you’d intended, making his expression soften.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Pretty enough to stop being mad at me?” he teased, showing off how eagerly you responded to the lightest of his touches, “Sorry about your boy toy but I promise you’ll love her even more.”

You squirmed a bit, discomfort growing by the second. He sighed,

“I’m still fucking mad at you,” he sneered unconvincingly, expression softening further as he helped you to your feet again. Dabi handed him Tomura’s long jacket and he put it on you, closing up the entire front to cover the mess made of your dress. It drew your attention to the fact that he was naked. You’d been scared before, much too confused, and it was still pretty dim so you hadn’t really looked. With only candles lighting the room the light flickered against every rigid curve of muscle. You forced yourself to keep your eyes up, only stealing a glance when he turned to grab your shoes.

You weren’t surprised it was big. You nearly sighed, thinking how good and warm it would feel if you reached out and touched it. How heavy it would be and how much your body would ache when he was done with you. When they were done with you. A small shudder ran through your body as Dabi offered his hands to you. You held them for balance as Keigo slid your shoes onto your feet.

“I saw that, dove,” he smirked, pinching your thigh as he stood up, “You got my clothes?” he asked Dabi. Tomura threw a pair of pants at his head,

“Hurry up,” he grumbled.

While Keigo got dressed Dabi fixed your hair and wiped off any remaining blood from your face, making you presentable enough to go back through to the portal home. Whether it was part of his powers or not, he certainly had a knack for knowing exactly how you felt at any given moment, reassuring kisses being placed to your cheeks just how you needed it. You leaned into his touch, focus still evading you as you tried to hide your desperation.

“Be sweet to Kei for me, yeah?” You nodded, both of you knowing you’d give into any request he gave you if he kept stroking your head and letting you cling to him.

You didn’t watch Keigo get dressed, opting to turn back when he at least had pants on. It was weirder with him, he wasn’t as ...unhinged as Tomura or as familiar as Dabi. He struggled getting on his shirt, groaning as he tried to stuff his wings through the slits in the back and awkwardly thanking Tomura when he halfheartedly helped out.

Dabi stuck Kei’s jacket in your hands and nudged you forward to where he sat, lacing his boots. You stumbled slightly, nearly bumping into him and then trying not to stare as you handed it to him. He ruffled your hair and thanked you, practically beaming when you offered back a small smile and “you’re welcome.” When he was finished struggling to get that on too he slung an arm over your shoulders, the touch enough to make you squirm as your panties finally became unable to contain your arousal. You pressed your thighs together as you took notice of Keigo’s hand closest to your face. For a second you couldn’t place what seemed strange about it.

“This doesn’t make up for what you did but damn she’s cute,” he pinched your cheek, smiling at your flustered face. That wasn’t really what concerned you, though.

“You don’t have sharp nails,” you noted, peering at his hands. He grimaced,

“Er, yeah, I wasn’t born a demon or human,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “I was an angel before I met Dabi,” he chuckled.

“Tomura’s the bad influence here,” Dabi shot back, “Don’t try to blame me,” he laughed along. Tomura just shrugged,

“Not my fault you two make terrible choices.”

You looked between the three of them before Dabi elaborated,

“I was originally human but Tomura was always...like that,” he smirked, poking his side. Tomura gave a half-smile back. Their friendship fascinated you. It was kind of nice to see them interact like this, you thought as you rested your head lightly against Keigo. You were eager for more contact with the three of them, struggling to keep it together as tears began to well in your eyes. Your blood seemed to burn in your veins from how badly you needed to be touched.

You had questions, but it was hard to hold onto thoughts about anything other than getting home and to bed. Dabi gathered up the bags on the floor and started ushering Tomura towards the door, Kei putting a hand on your back to prompt you to do the same. When you got back outside it was dark, thunder rolling in the distance and rain softly falling onto the pavement. You didn’t see which, but one of your demons flipped your coat hood up for you.

The rain quickly soaked you to the bone as you walked, clothes sticking to you and the others as you held Kei’s hand tightly, trying to control your shaking. Eventually your knees gave out, buckling as your cunt throbbed almost painfully. Keigo tried to catch you, pulling you up by the hand he was holding so you didn’t fall too hard on your knees. You could still feel them scrape on the pavement, though, the small amount of pain an almost welcome distraction from the sensation between your legs. It was so intense and unbearable you couldn’t contain the tears anymore.

You sobbed as he lifted you back onto your feet, but crumbled again, unable to support yourself as tears spilled down your face. He looked shocked as he lifted you into his arms, looking you over for injury. Your knees were slightly discolored and your stockings had ripped but it wasn’t anything someone would normally be so upset over. You cried into his neck, clinging to him as your chest heaved. Dabi’s warm hand ran down your back,

“The smoke doesn’t usually make it this bad,” he mused, encouraging you as you sank further into Keigo’s neck. They picked up the pace but you kept your face buried against his skin until you felt the rush of snow from your pocket surround you. The walk up to the house was brief and you were placed on one of the downstairs beds almost as soon as you entered.

“I wouldn’t have spent so much time trying to hurt your dumb ass if you’d told me you used bone candles for the ritual,” Keigo said through gritted teeth, kicking his shoes off and shaking out his wet hair. Tomura wrung his out, letting the water fall onto the floor and earning him a glare from Dabi. The black-haired demon looked you over, wiping tears from your cheeks before kneeling and removing your shoes. When he stood he inspected the damage to your skint knees, ignoring your pouting until you reached out to grab him.

“Have you ever summoned a former angel? Shit’s more work,” he shot back, giving you his full attention after.

Your fingers gripped his shoulders tightly, pulling him closer until he got the hint and kissed you, allowing you to practically suck his tongue as he started stripping you, pulling Tomura’s wet coat off your trembling form. You lapped along the insides of his mouth, the sweet flavor of demonic blood still vaguely present. He halfheartedly chuckled against you as he pulled away, immediately being replaced by Keigo so he could undress himself.

When you reached out to touch Kei’s unblemished skin you found it bare again, his shoulders and neck pleasantly warm as you glided your fingertips across them. His hair was silky when you threaded your fingers through it and you sighed against his lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He cradled your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs against your cheekbones before trailing lower and wrapping loosely around your throat and squeezing gently.

You gasped at the restriction to your arteries, moaning softly into his mouth as you felt arms wrap around you from behind. White hair spilled over your chest, still slightly damp as Tomura worked the back of your dress open, nipping and kissing along your shoulders as he worked the fabric down. You pulled back one of your hands from Kei to hold his hand, rough texture and claws calming you down as the former angel rattled your nerves.

Tomura and Keigo lifted you together as he slid your dress down your legs, letting it drop to the floor. You shivered as the air contacted your bare skin, the slight draft in the house adding to how real the pocket felt and making you wonder if that was something that had to be added. Your nipples pebbled and you felt sharp teeth ghost against one, followed by Tomura’s mouth latching on and suckling. You whined into Kei’s mouth, stroking his and Tomura’s hair as he finally broke the kiss, panting softly against you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, trailing his fingers along your jaw, “Yeah, she’s pretty sweet,” he gave Dabi a smug grin before winding his fingers into his black hair and pulling him in, kissing him an inch from your face and nudging you forward into his disfigured neck. You obliged, sucking and kissing at his skin while they made out, Tomura still toying with your breasts.

Dabi slipped a hand under the side of your panties, ripping the fabric and doing the same to the other side so they fell off, leaving you in torn stockings and drugged-away bashfulness. You continued to kiss his neck, trailing your lips lower until you passed his staples and latched onto some of his normal skin, sucking until you were certain you’d left a mark.

He groaned into Keigo’s mouth and the two parted, strings of saliva connecting them before he wiped them away, setting his sights on you again. Tomura pulled away with a parting kiss to your chest and suddenly you could feel your face heating up as three pairs of demonic eyes stared you down. You felt like fresh meat lain before a pack of starving wolves. And then they pounced.

Tomura sank his teeth into your neck, just painful enough to make you cry out as Keigo swallowed it, kissing you deeper than before and exploring your mouth with his tongue without any regard to your need for breath. Dabi pushed everyone back so you were lying down and he could dive between your legs, teasing you with his unnaturally hot breath and making you squirm under Keigo. You writhed, already overwhelmed before they’d even really started.

Your body was already so riddled with splotchy bruises and bite marks, but that didn’t stop Tomura from adding to them anyway, sharp teeth drawing blood out of your still-fresh wounds. You whined into Keigo’s mouth and he pulled away, dragging his tongue along your skin from the corner of your lips to your jaw, planting wet kisses and bites on your neck. His lips eventually met Tomura’s and the two shared their own sloppy kiss just above your skin.

Dabi finally closed the distance to your twitching pussy, continuing to torture you with feather- light flicks of his tongue to your swollen clit. You groaned, reaching for his hair to pull him closer but being blocked by his hand catching yours and pinning it to your side. He finally obliged you, slipping his long, hot muscle into your drenched cavern and lapping at your insides greedily. His lips unevenly kneaded at the rest of your folds as he stroked along your thigh. You bucked against his face, whimpering just as Tomura released Keigo and your mouth was smothered once more with his.

He defaulted to his preferred method of kissing and shoved his long tongue down your throat until you sputtered, gagging slightly but reciprocating nonetheless. Your free hand came up to tangle in his pale hair, sharp teeth just grazing your tongue as you held him close. Keigo moved his lips along your ribs, kissing and biting indiscriminately as his hand trailed downwards. Two of his fingers found your clit, rolling the swollen bud as Dabi fucked you with his tongue, filling you enough to feel nice but not be what you needed.

You moaned as Tomura pulled his tongue from your mouth, air finally filling your lungs. You pulled him closer when he tried to lean back, planting several soft kisses along the corner of his mouth and cheek. He smiled but broke from your grip and moved behind you, letting your head rest against his chest. With the new angle you could see Dabi’s face between your thighs, his warm hands curled around the limbs and resting softly against your skin.

His eyes were closed, his focus entirely on working his tongue against your g-spot. He looked up and gave you a wink just before Keigo straddled you and blocked him from view. When he moved back Dabi took the hint and parted from your heat with a few light kisses to your thighs, allowing Kei to slip back. The blonde settled his hips between your legs, letting his heavy cock rest on your stomach to see how far it’d reach.

You squirmed slightly, holding onto Tomura’s arms as they wrapped around your shoulders and crossed your chest. Dabi slid his hands up along Keigo’s sides, murmuring something into his ear you couldn’t hear. The sight of them together made heat rise to your cheeks, and you wished they’d go further. They didn’t, though, instead Dabi pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck and joined Tomura behind you.

Keigo lined himself up, stroking along your folds with the head of his cock before pressing inside tortuously slow. Your mouth fell open as he stretched you open, gritting his teeth just as his tip bumped against your cervix. Your head fell back against Tomura’s chest as you groaned, eyes clenched shut and writhing a bit trying to get him to move.

When the initial shock wore off and he continued to lie still inside you, you looked up to see him smirking down at you. His gaze made you clutch Tomura’s arms tighter.

“What’s wrong, sacrifice? You look flustered,” he teased. He leaned forward, hovering over your trembling body until his face was centimeters from yours, “If you want something, you can ask for it.” You stared up at him with wide eyes, feeling a few tears gathering in them. You wondered if he could tell, but as his shit-eating grin widened you knew.

“Please,” you said softly, voice trembling. He intimidated you, his beauty and the lack of more demonic traits made him feel too familiar. He quirked an eyebrow as though he didn’t understand what you meant. You sighed in defeat, shifting under him in discomfort, “Please move.”

He gave you a single, leisurely thrust; pulling out nearly all the way and slowly filling you again. Then he stopped again,

“Please what?” he taunted, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. You hesitated, unsure if he wanted you to use his name or tell him exactly what you wanted.

“Please fuck me, Keigo,” you whispered, looking up into his golden eyes. You finally released the death grip you’d had on Tomura, timidly reaching forward to ghost your fingers along his cheek. His taunting expression softened, and he kissed you properly, soft lips gently pressing against yours as he gave you several shallow thrusts.

His hands roamed your form, squeezing at your hips and stroking along your stomach. You moaned softly into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair. You heard a scoff from behind,

“You can do it for real, she’s not gonna break,” Tomura said boredly. Keigo pulled away, cupping your face and looking more angelic than ever.

“That’s a shame,” Kei smirked again, trailing his thumb along your cheek. He kissed you again, softly cupping your face as he increased his pace, working you both up steadily. Two of his fingers encircled your clit, making you gasp against him. He took advantage, slipping his tongue between your lips.

Tomura fidgeted behind you and you felt his cock press into your back, twitching as you assumed he jerked it. He pulled you further up his body, lying back so you could rest on top of him. Your head fell back against his shoulder as Kei broke the kiss, leaning back to hold up one of your ankles as he pounded you harder. Moans fell from your mouth as you clenched around him, both of you throbbing and twitching as you got closer and closer to your ends.

His moans were so pretty, like his face and wings and the look on his face as he papped his hips against yours. The blush dusting his cheeks got more intense as he went, building speed. He got rougher with your clit, giving it a couple of light smacks as he lost himself in pleasure. You jolted at the hit, yelping and throbbing around him.

When he spilled inside you he forced himself as deep as possible, pinching your clit just hard enough to both be painful and make you climax. You spasmed, crying out as you fell limply against Tomura. The demon under you wound his arms around your waist and pressed his lips into one side of your neck while Kei bit the other. The blonde broke your skin with his teeth, making you cry out and cling to him as he marked you. You whined as Kei slipped himself out, leaning up and admiring the sight of his cum dribbling down to your ass.

Tomura lined himself up from underneath you, smearing himself in yours and Kei’s cum and spearing you unceremoniously fast. You gasped, feeling his massive girth stretching your walls. He only thrusted a few times before pulling back out and lining himself up with your ass, the immense amounts of fluid spread over his cock making it slippery against your puckered hole.

Your eyes widened and you squirmed, panicking slightly, “Tomura, wait-” He shushed you, cooing softly into your ear as he started to press against your tight back entrance. Dabi held your hand, letting you squeeze it as he pressed several light kisses along your face and lips to hush any protests. Keigo watched intently, already filling back out at the sight. You whimpered against Dabi as he started to press in.

You choked, feeling like you couldn’t breathe as his gigantic head penetrated your tight ring of muscle. Tears spilled down your cheeks as he continued, slowly working more of himself in with surprising care. He stroked along your sides and cheeks, swiping away your tears and trying to get you to relax.

“Stop clenching,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to restrain himself, “I’m not even half way in yet.” You tried to do as he said, relaxing as his hand snaked between your legs to paw at your throbbing, leaking cunt. More of the lubrication dripped down, helping keep Tomura wet enough to continue.

He thrusted shallowly, getting more and more in with each cant of his hips. When he finally bottomed out you were out of breath, leaned back into his shoulder and panting. He groaned, unable to stop himself from moving as he bit your neck. You could tell he was holding back, but he was really bad at it, his whole body twitching with pleasure as he gently thrusted.

A soft sob left your lips and Dabi hushed you with his lips again, softly kissing you as a distraction.

“Damn,” Keigo breathed, still engrossed in the show. Your face burned at the realization he’d closely watched the whole thing. It seemed to spur Tomura on and he got rougher, holding your hips and bucking up into you. You groaned, letting your head fall back away from Dabi who snickered slightly and gave your cheek a peck.

He whispered with Kei some things you couldn’t make out over your gasps and sobs or Tomura’s grunting in your ear and the two started positioning themselves between your legs. Tomura held your thighs apart as they worked out how to approach you from that angle. They bickered for a moment and settled on Kei up top and Dabi behind him, the former giving himself a few strokes before plunging back inside your pussy.

You caught on, whimpering but unable to form a coherent sentence with Tomura ravaging your ass. Dabi pressed himself against Keigo’s base, easing himself into your already stuffed hole until he passed the tight entrance, drawing a scream from you. The stretch hurt, even more intense than when Tomura and Dabi took you together last time. Your eyes rolled back into your head and your scream ended in a choked whimper before you went silent aside from gasps and occasional broken moans of their names.

They didn’t move in any kind of rhythm with each other, each choosing their own pace at which to destroy you. Tomura continued kissing along your neck and whispering mostly creepy but occasionally sweet praises into your skin as he reached to toy with your clit some more. Kei groaned and pulled Dabi into a kiss, one hand stroking your hip and thigh and the other gripping Tomura’s. Dabi’s hands were occupied with stroking Keigo’s chest and your leg respectively; you weren’t sure when you’d let go of it. You gripped at whatever you could, out of focus and barely recognizing that the strangled groaning and choking sounds were coming from you.

Tears streamed down your face an unknown amount of time before you noticed them, only realizing when Tomura licked them up and said you were pretty when you cried. The pleasure was just as white-hot, if not more, than the pain. It drove thought from your mind just as the initial wave of that smoke had. You could swear the room was spinning when Kei leaned down and kissed you, moreso playing with your tongue than actually kissing due to how out of it you were.

Dabi directed Tomura’s fingers around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to send you into an intense orgasm. You clenched around the three of them, a slightly painful feeling for all of you as your muscles contracted. Keigo hissed and Dabi and Tomura groaned, the latter biting into your shoulder to muffle it.

Tomura finished first, angling his hips up to ejaculate inside as deeply as possible. He fell limp under you after, his whole body twitching now and again and drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. He kept his arms loosely around you, occasionally gasping as he felt the others moving inside you and overstimulating him. He must not have cared, since he didn’t bother to move, choosing to stay buried in your walls.

Dabi was next, but the overwhelming heat of his semen made Kei finish too, both their cum mixing and filling your cunt until it overflowed, joining Tomura’s in the puddle beneath him. He shivered at the contact, but otherwise stayed still, still attempting to plug your ass. One of them – you weren’t sure which anymore – rolled your clit past your first orgasm and into the next, making you convulse.

Kei shuddered as his high ended, slumping forward and lying his head on top of your heaving chest. Dabi pulled out from behind him, leaving Kei’s dick to lie in the mess they’d made. He crawled up, hovering over the blonde so he didn’t crush his wings or your body any further, and kissed you. He brushed a few lingering tears from your cheeks.

“You did well, little sacrifice,” he said, his breath already level. You continued to pant, holding his hand to your face. “Think you can handle a little more?” he kissed your forehead, grinning wickedly when you gave him the tiniest of nods.

Kei rolled off you, his still semi-hard length slipping out and making you whimper. He sat up and fluffed his wings out, letting them stretch before he stood up, dragging Dabi up and forcing him on top of you. You both looked at him and his eyes narrowed as he leaned in, whispering to Dabi despite how you and Tomura could both hear,

“I told you earlier,” he growled, “I was gonna fuck your sacrifice and then fuck you.”

Dabi gave him a look you couldn’t see as Kei stood, positioning himself behind and kicking your legs further apart. He gripped Dabi’s hip, reaching around to line him up with your entrance and forcing him inside. You both groaned and then Dabi’s eyes widened and rolled back and you heard him make a noise you wouldn’t previously have thought he was capable of.

Tomura wriggled underneath you, pulling himself out of your stretched hole and crawling out from under you. He kissed your cheek and got out of bed, fluffing out his hair as he went for the door. He muttered something about watching “Staples” get wrecked and you turned your attention back to Dabi, watching his expression.

His face twisted as Keigo started thrusting, rolling his hips roughly against his ass and forcing him in and out of your abused cunt. The blonde easily kept his composure, occasionally landing a slap to Dabi’s ass or your hip with a cocky expression. Dabi, on the other hand, looked how you felt as he got pushed around for a change. His eyes glossed over and his forked tongue flopped out of his mouth, cheeks pink as he drooled for it. He’d never looked so pretty.

You licked his saliva from his face and took his tongue in your mouth, making him groan as Keigo forced him in and out of you. The two of you moaned against each other, one of his hands gripping the sheet and the other bruising your thigh. He moved his grip to your shoulders and then your neck, trying to regain some form of control.

Your moans came out as hoarse cries and pants, almost no sound coming out anymore as he bumped against your sore cervix with every press of Keigo’s hips. He came faster than before, flooding your already filled pussy until his fluids gushed out around his base. Kei didn’t stop, though, pounding Dabi’s ass until he got hard inside you again and he collapsed on top of you. His face rested in the crook of your neck as he panted and groaned, releasing your neck in favor of clinging to you.

You came again next, the friction from his pubic hair on your clit sending you over the edge. You openly sobbed at the overstimulation that followed, reciprocating Dabi’s hold as he shuddered and pumped another load into you. As you felt it taper off he was shoved forward onto you harder, Kei’s wings bristling as he finished.

With no regard for you already being crushed under Dabi’s weight he fell forward, sandwiching the black-haired demon and pressing your sweaty, barely conscious form deeper into the mattress. You groaned, but almost no sound came out. Dabi continued to pant into your neck for a time until his breathing slowed, but he stayed still. He relaxed his grip on your shoulders, finally letting his entire body relax on top of you. You felt him go soft inside, more cum flowing out without his full size to block it.

Keigo pressed several light kisses along his back, paying special attention to where his staples separated the distinct separate colors of his skin. He fluttered his lips against yours softly and then withdrew, leaning back and standing to admire the view. Dabi stayed still, and you stroked along his shoulders gently while you waited on him to let you up.

“Too much for you, Dabs?” he teased, ruffling his hair. Dabi groaned softly, his words muffled by your skin and the blankets. He seemed to curl in on himself as you petted him, almost like he didn’t want you to touch him. Kei gave his thigh another light smack and said he was gonna clean up, heading off to look for a bathroom and leaving you alone with Dabi.

You squirmed slightly after a while, starting to feel sticky and needing to pee. He kept you pressed down, buried in your neck. You gently nudged him, kissing the side of his head and trying to coax him up. He groaned again and finally relented, sitting up and immediately turning away from you. Your eyes immediately went wide as you reached for him, convinced you’d done something wrong.

“Dabi?” you softly called, voice barely above a whisper. He winced when you said his name. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at you over his shoulder so you couldn’t fully see his face. His eyes looked a little red.

“I didn’t really want to do that in front of you,” he turned away, “or inside you,” he trailed off slightly. You leaned up, trying to ignore the pain that shot through several joints and various other places on your body. You reached out and took his hand.

“I-I liked it,” you muttered, averting your eyes as blood rushed into your face. He looked at you, and his eyes seemed brighter than before. “I like seeing you with Tomura,” you admitted, “and Kei.”

He cupped your face, his usual serene expression present on his face now. You shifted slightly, both physically uncomfortable and waiting on him to say something.

“What a sweet little sacrifice you are,” he cooed, stooping down to your level and pressing his lips to your sweaty forehead. He tilted your chin up and you looked at him. “Guess we’re both a little dumb for demon dick, huh?” He laughed, and you joined him, still smiling when he kissed your lips.

You threw your arms around his neck, opening your mouth when his tongue prodded at your lips. His warm hands caressed your back, trailing down to briefly squeeze your ass and then support under your thighs. You rested against him as he carried you, a hand over your weeping holes to stop you dripping on the floor. You hid your face in his neck, heat rising into your cheeks.

“Hm, maybe we could get you some plugs to keep it in,” he mused, chuckling when you gripped him tighter in embarrassment.

He set you down in the bathroom and let you go take care of your bladder while he got the bath running and set the shower temperature. You felt so weird pissing in front of him since you were pretty sure he didn’t even do that himself, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to you. You finished up and he sat you on a stool in front of the shower head, detaching it and rinsing out your hair and all the cum off your skin.

“You’re getting used to it,” he said, tending to your hair, “Interacting with demons and moving through pockets and such. You didn’t pass out this time,” he noted. You winced, remembering how brutal it had been with Tomura the first time.

He shut the water off, kneeling in front of you and looking you over for injuries. Tomura’s teeth marks were the worst since all his were sharp. The wounds from that and the countless bruises and hickeys the three of them had left littered your skin, splotches of irritated skin all over your body. None of it needed any specific attention, though, and Dabi just sighed and helped you into the tub.

He sat down behind you, coaxing you into his arms and stroking you as you snuggled into his chest. You intertwined your fingers with his and raised his hand to your lips, kissing the back of his hand and the staples along his wrist. He hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You like the routine, doll?” he asked, resting his cheek against your head. You nodded, sighing contentedly. It wasn’t long like that before the door cracked open and two pairs of eyes peered in at you.

“Got room for two more?” Kei asked, pushing the door open and entering without bothering to wait for a response. You reflexively brought your knees up to your chest, blood rushing into your cheeks despite the fact everyone was still naked. You noticed his wings were much smaller as he climbed into the thankfully large tub, facing you as Tomura entered without a word behind him.

“Someone’s shy,” he teased, giving your leg a poke, “You know I saw everything earlier, right?” You curled up tighter, only relaxing slightly when Dabi leaned up and put his arms around you.

“This is the usual when she’s not tripping on those candles,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Cute,” Kei pinched your cheek. He leaned back against Tomura, making him grimace but embrace him nonetheless, “You’re pretty lucky, man, aside from the whole skin thing.”

They chatted for a while and you relaxed, leaning back into Dabi and resting for a bit. You woke up, not realizing you’d fallen asleep, just as they were getting out. Kei wrapped a towel around you and kissed your forehead.

“Why are your wings smaller now?” you asked, letting him dry you.

“Oh, I used some feathers to get rid of those sheets and then left them lying on one of the couches,” he shrugged. He summoned them back as a demonstration, his wings filling back out as he let a few stray feathers fly around. You watched with wide eyes and he chuckled, pulling you into his chest and squeezing. You wrapped your arms around him in return, fingers just barely brushing where his wings attached to his back.

He tensed up, pulling away and petting you, “They’re kinda sensitive,” he smiled, “Probably not a great idea to touch while you’re sore.” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. He seemed unfazed quickly, though, excitedly asking Dabi about what you guys had been doing so far. The last of the tension between them dissolved when he explained they’d been trying to summon him for days, making preparations and such.

You watched them kiss, a small, content smile on your lips as Tomura took your hand, muttering how he still wanted to explore the pocket with you. You rested your head against him and nodded. Dabi and Kei separated, the four of you heading out to get dressed.

You sat on the edge of a bed in a different room while Keigo and Tomura rifled through your clothes. Dabi dressed himself and started fixing your hair, watching with amusement as they argued over whether or not to give you panties.

“There’s no point, one of us will just take them off,” Kei reasoned, eyeing over the white lacy number Tomura was clutching.

“But it’s fun to make her take them off,” Tomura pursed his lips, glaring at him.

You pulled Dabi closer and he leaned in, offering his ear if you wanted to whisper. You took the invitation, cupping your hands and quietly asking,

“I thought Keigo would be angrier?” He pulled away with a snort, stroking your head reassuringly.

“He was, but he’s really just a soft bird that likes the sound of his own voice too much,” he smirked as Kei flipped him off, “Little sacrifice likes panties.”

Tomura grinned, setting the ones he’d picked aside as Kei groaned. You giggled at the exchange and Dabi gave your head a pat to signal he was done. You leaned forward to watch them select your clothes. Occasionally they’d give you options when they disagreed and you’d get to choose, but it was all so similar it didn’t make much difference.

They got up and got dressed, sneaking glances at you as Dabi pulled your towel off and started dressing you. He kissed every nasty bruise or bite mark he came across, gently moving you to get some relatively tame lingerie and stockings on you followed by another white dress that reached just past your knees and had sleeves you really liked. He didn’t put any shoes on you, though, and you stood there for a moment waiting before you realized he wouldn’t.

Tomura and Keigo headed downstairs, playfully insulting each other and talking about what games they were going to play. You felt slightly uneasy, like you had something to do. Or maybe something was supposed to happen. Dabi snapped you out of it,

“Relax, doll,” he gave you a soft smile and ruffled your hair, “There’s nothing else you have to do. Just be a good girl, yeah?” You nodded and he kissed your cheek. His hand took up yours and he lead you downstairs, starting to explain more in-depth how the pocket worked and what stuff he’d put in it for you to be entertained.

When you got into one of the sitting rooms Kei and Tomura were already there, sitting on opposite ends of the same couch and scrolling through options for movies on the TV. Dabi sat between them and pulled you into his lap where you happily rested against him. You grazed your fingers along his cheek and he kissed you, holding you just how you liked. It really felt like home.

@krystalwithakay @soup-forthesoul @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @vermeilies @babayaga67

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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Text

Auntie Flow-SBI Inc. (Techno, Wilbur, Tommy, and Philza)

This is a Brother!Technoblade & Brother!Wilbur Soot & Brother!Tommyinnit x gn!reader in the SBI Au! Y/N is younger than Wilbur and Techno but older than Tommy. Also, this imagine is gender neutral but there is talk of the reader being on their period. That being said I know that not everyone who gets their period identifies as a female which is why it’s gender neutral!

Check out my masterlist here

When Y/N isn’t up by their usual time, Dadza goes in to check on them. He soon realizes the problem and enlists in their brother’s help to make Auntie Flow’s visit go a little smoother.

Y/N’s POV

Everything hurt. Last night before I went to bed, I noticed a little bit of blood in the toilet. I was a little thrown off because my period wasn’t supposed to start until next week. But just to be safe, I put on a pad anyway and went to sleep. Thank God I did. When I woke, I woke in a pool of my own blood. Despite the pad, I had bled through my underwear, pants, and onto my sheets. My stomach and back hurt like hell and I felt like curling in a ball and crying.

I glanced at the clock beside my bed and found that I had slept in much later than normal, even for a Saturday morning. My father would probably be worried about me. My thoughts were confirmed by a small knock on the door. “Y/N?” Dadza called from the other side of the door, “You alright in there?” “Yes but no,” I called back weakly, the nausea a little too much for me to answer normally.

The door opened and from over my blanket I could see the concerned face of my father. “Are you sick?” He asked, closing the door behind him. “Again, yes but no.” My father’s face shifted from concern to confusion. I let out a sigh before flipping the blanket off of me allowing my father to see the blood stain on the sheets. Recognition flashed his face before sympathy settled in place. “Oh honey, I thought you didn’t start till next week,” He said, moving closer to the bed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” I muttered, flipping the blanket back over my body.

“Tell you what, how about you go shower. Get cleaned up and change into clean clothes and I’ll clean up your bed and replace your sheets,” Dadza offered, placing a comforting hand on my side. The warmth that radiated through caused me to sigh in contentment but I nodded nonetheless, “That sounds nice. Thank you dad.” “Anytime kiddo. Let’s get you up,” He replied, gently moving the blanket off of my body and helping me stand from the bed.

I quickly made my way past my father to my drawers and pulled out a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and new undies before walking out of my room and to the bathroom. “Well there you are! Get enough sleep you lazy bum?” I heard Tommy’s voice ring out from the bathroom doorway. I let out a small sigh and closed my eyes, I really couldn’t do this right now. “Tommy, please. Just let me into the bathroom,” I softly pleaded, opening my eyes to stare into his blue ones.

Tommy softened for a moment before the smirk appeared back on his face, “No! I think I’m going to take my sweet time in here, unless you tell me why it is you got up so late,” Tommy taunted. Anger flashed and I could feel my blood boiling at his stupid smirking face, “Tommy, I woke up this morning in a pool of my own blood, would you like me to end yours the same way?”

Tommy’s face paled to a ghostly white. He cleared his throat before silently moving out of the doorway in the bathroom allowing me to silently move past him and slam the door close. I set my clean clothes on the bathroom counter before stripping off my dirty clothes. I turned on the cold water in the sink and did my best to rinse the blood out of my pants before laying them over to dry. I prepped my other clothes for when I got out of the shower, i.e. putting a fresh pad on my new underwear.

The shower felt really nice on my skin. The warm water rinsing over all my tense muscles, relaxing them. My tummy and back still hurt a bit but the heat helped ease that pain. After the shower, I dried off before dressing in my comfy clothes. Before leaving the bathroom, I reached into the back of the cabinet and pulled out the Midol I kept for this time of the month. I popped two pills, washing them down with some water, before putting the bottle back and leaving the bathroom.

I noticed the house was pretty quiet, which was really surprising for a Saturday. Maybe Tommy had gotten too freaked out thinking about periods and he is sitting quietly somewhere. I chuckled to myself as I opened my bedroom door, wimp.

I was surprised at the sight in my bedroom. Not only were new sheets on my bed, but my three brothers were also laying on my bed. “What are you guys doing in here?” I questioned, moving a few more feet into my room. The three boys were sitting against the headboard and they each had things in their hands. “We saw Dad carrying your bedsheets and Tommy told us what you said to him, pretty funny if you ask me,” Techno explained. Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes at Techno’s words. “So we brought movies, snacks, and a heating pad. We were thinking we could just have a lazy day together, or we could just leave the things here if you want to be alone,” Wilbur explained, holding up the stack of movies in his hand before placing it down on his lap.

Little tears pricked in my eyes at his words. “Yeah. That sounds great,” I sniffed, moving closer to my bed. None of them said anything about my over emotionalness, not even Tommy that loves to make fun of me. “Come here,” Wilbur coaxed, setting the movies to the side and opening his arms. I crawled into his lap and let him hug my body before I was passed to Tommy, who also hugged me and then to Techno who squeezed me tight.

The whole day was spent cuddling in bed with my brothers. We watched a lot of movies and ate a lot of snacks. I would be cuddling with one brother and then the movie would end and I would switch to another brother. I don’t know if they even noticed, but the entire time I would be cuddling with one of the boys their hand would find my stomach and they would massage my tummy. Every so often, Dad would come in and check on us. He claimed that it was because it was so quiet he wanted to make sure we hadn’t killed each other yet, but I knew it was because he loved seeing us like this. Together, not at each other’s throats. He would stay for a few minutes, watching a little bit of the movie, before walking back out to ‘go do some work’.

“What do we want to do now?” I questioned aloud as the last movie’s credit rolled. Tommy’s shoulders moved in a shrug, “Whatever you want,” he responded. I glanced at the time and found that it was a little past 6 pm. “I know we’ve been snacking all day, but I’m hungry. Do you think Dadza will let us get pizza?” I asked, looking over at all of them, my eyes landing on Techno as he was the one I was currently cuddled into. Techno also gave a half-shrug, “It’s worth asking.”

Before I could move to stand up, a small knock sounded on my door and it swung open. “Hey kiddos. I got us some pizza if you guys wanna come down for dinner,” Dadza announced looking over us. Grins over took all of our faces as giggles bubbled from our throats. “What? What’s so funny?” Dadza asked, really confused as to what was happening. “Nothing. Nothing dad, it’s just that you read our minds,” I claimed with a giggle. A soft smile over took his face as he nodded, “Good. Then come on!”

Wilbur and Tommy practically leaped off of my bed, racing each other to the door, throwing elbows the entire way, Philza following after them, calling for them to stop. When I didn’t move, Techno raised his eyebrow at me. “Why aren’t you moving? Didn’t you want pizza?” I simply stared at him with a small pout on my lips, “Carry?” I questioned softly. Techno let out a snort at the question, but he didn’t object. I let out a giggle as Techno stood with me attached to him with our chests pressed together with my arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

Techno easily maneuvered his way out of my room and made his way to the stairs. “Before we go down, do you need anymore Midol from the bathroom?” Techno asked, adjusting so he could look at me. I gave a soft shake of my head, causing Techno to give me a soft nod before continuing down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Wilbur, Tommy, and Dadza were already seated around the kitchen table. Wilbur and Tommy’s mouths were alright filled with the pizza that our father had ordered. Techno set me down gently in my usually chair before taking his place beside me. “Thank you dad,” I thanked softly before putting a couple slices of pizza on my own plate. “Anything for my kiddos,” he chimed in response, beginning his own feasting of pizza.

The rest of the night was filled with pizza, laughter and all together good times. We broke out a couple of board games as a movie played in the background for some white noise. Tommy, of course, nearly flipped the board when he realized he wasn’t winning and was only grappled to the ground by none other than Technoblade. Dadza, Wilbur, and I just watched in amusement as the to wrestled on the floor, inevitably knocking the coffee table over and flipping the game over anyway. Looking around at the room filled with my family, I realized that periods absolutely suck. But when you have the right people taking care of you, they’re not so bad sometimes.

There you have it! I really hope you enjoyed, and if you did, be sure to leave a like!

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xxreader-writerxx · 3 years

Text

Red Haired Boy

Word Count: 3.6k (sorry got carried away)

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of death (happy ending tho), panic attack, graphic violence at parts, mentions of blood, cursing (maybe?), tell me if I need to add anything

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House Y/N/N= Your nickname

I get shoved sideways by a red haired boy and run into the wall. I let out a small gasp feeling my shoulder run into a sharp brick. I hold the cut with tears in my eyes. I see the boy turn around and run back worried. "Bloody hell! I'm so so sorry!" He tells me and I shake my head firmly. "It's alright." I mumble trying to make it seem like I'm not crying. "No it's not, you're bleeding!" He tells me and I see another boy run and stop seeing us. "Fred! He's on my tail!" He tells him tugging his arm. "Go on then! I need to handle something!" He tells him angrily getting his arm free. "Whatever..." The other boy mutters. "Does it hurt?" He asks and I shake my head shyly. "No... I'm fine. Really."

"WEASLEY!" I hear and see its our groundskeeper. "I'm going to enjoy this one..." He mutters to himself as he pulls the boy by his arm harshly. I look at him and he looks sad but smiles weakly at me. "AH MY ARM. OH IT HURTS!" I say not thinking. "What?!" He asks and I clutch my arm. "AH HELP HELP!" I yelp and he drops Fred, as soon as he's freed I silently tell him to run and he smiles at me. He runs and Filch is still distracted by my wailing. I stand straight and smile. "Its gone now. I think I just need to get patched up." I say calmly, walking to the infirmary.

"What do you mean?" I hear as I get wrapped up by Madam Pomfrey. "It was bloody amazing. She started screaming her arm hurt and let me run off!" A nearly identical voice replies. "Well good for her but karma must've came to bite you." The voice replies. "Yeah... But- No way! It's her!" He says and I look up to see the boy I helped earlier. "Hey- What happened!?" I ask seeing his eye covered in blood. "When he was running he was distracted and fell face first into a statue, cut his eyebrow pretty good." His identical brother tells me. "Oh no!" I say and he walks over and Madam Pomfrey groans.

"Sit there, I'll be back in a moment... Foolish boy..." She mutters and he hops up next to me. "Fred Weasley." He introduces and I smile shyly, shaking his hand. "Y/n, Y/n L/n..."

"I wanted to say thank you, for not only saving me but I also wanted to say thank you for saving me despite me hurting you." He tells me shyly and I smile. "My pleasure."

***

I wake up to my boyfriend kissing my shoulder as I sleepily wake up. "Hi baby..." I whisper groggily. "Hi darling..." He smiles at me and I notice he's kissing my scar from how we met. He places his cheek against mine as I wrap his arms around me. "Whatcha thinking about?" I ask and he sighs. "I never payed you back for saving me the day you got this..." He tells me and I laugh. "How bout..." I say pushing him lightly so I'm on top. "Five minutes, whenever I choose to use it, you have to do whatever I want." I whisper and he smiles cheekily. "Yes ma'am..." He tells me and I chuckles. "Yay that one day I will be doing no dishes." I tell him and he scoffs. "I was thinking something more sexual but ok." He tells me and I kiss his nose.

***

I look around frantically for my loved ones, happy I am a half witch so my family isn't here, blood related though. I look for the Weasley Family trying to see through the falling dust and rubble. I see a messy ginger hair and get excited. I limp over as quickly and see its not my Weasley but Percy. He's screaming for help. I ignore the pain coursing through me and run the best I can.

He's digging through rubble and I freeze in fear. "W-who is that?" I ask seeing a hand underneath it all. "JUST HELP!" He screams and I rush over moving each piece of rubble. I finally help drag the body out. I lay him on me to support his head and moves his hair from his eyes. "Freddie?" I ask softly and he looks at me smiling. "Hey..." He barely says and he gasps slightly for air. "Hey, stay awake for me... Percy get help, he's bleeding a lot..." I cry and he runs. I feel Fred's weak and cold hand wrap around mine. "I hoped you were in my last moments ya know?" He tells me smiling, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Well let that be another day. Freddie you are going to stay alive you idiot." I tell him chuckling through my worry, combing his hair lightly. "I want you to be happy. Don't wait for me to come back. Find someone who makes you happy. Alright?" He asks and I scoff. "I would if you were dying. But you aren't." I sob and he holds my hand. "You'll be ok..." He whispers closing his eyes but I grab his head shaking my own. "Hey remember the time we met?" I ask smiling at him and he nods smiling. "You cut my shoulder so deep and I saved you minutes later, remember that?" I ask and he scoffs leaning his head back weakly. "Didn't think my last moments would be getting guilt tripped." He tells me and gasps at a pain in his side. "Well because of that you told me you would give me five minutes of anything I wanted. I want to have five minutes, after this war, dancing with you. You understand? I want to get married and dance for five minutes." I demand and he chuckles, then cringes at the pain.

Wizards swarm us and help him onto a stretcher as we finally let go of each other's hands. People help me up saying I need to heal my injuries. I keep my eyes on him scared..

***

Three months.

Three fucking months and nothing is better. They said it would be better by now. But I still miss him, miss my fiancé. He died shortly after I saw him. His dead body being the only thing on my mind every single day. Today I need to collect his belongings so I throw myself out of bed sadly. I walk out to the room to the empty, quiet, kitchen. I look for my mug and think George must have put it away when he was cleaning. The twin of my passed fiancé constantly stops by to help around the house, he says it helps pass the time.

I climb on the ladder and see he just put it far back in the shelf. I look right above it and look at it shocked. It's Fred's mug.

I hold it and tear up. "Why couldn't you stay? You promised you would stay! You promised! Wh-why did I have to loose you?!" I scream and fall to my knees feeling my heart crumble. "You promised..." I whisper against the mug. I put it down and feel the ground rumble from the nearby train. I ignore it until it makes my mug fall from the counter and drop on Fred's. "No... No no no no no..." I sob picking up the pieces.

George's POV:

I walk into the building to see Y/n yelling at the landlord angrily. "NO YOU CALM DOWN GARRETT! THAT BLOODY TRAIN BROKE MY FIANCE'S MUG! HE FOUGHT IN A WAR YOU WOULD NEVER IMAGINE! HIS MUG IS IRREPLACEABLE! HE FOUGHT DEATHEATERS! DID YOU FIGHT DEATHEATERS GARRETT?! NO! SO YOU WILL GET THAT BLOODY BLOODY TRAIN TO STOP OR PUT A DAMN SPELL ON THIS BUILDING SO I DON'T HAVE TO THINK I AM ON A CRUISE EVERYTIME IT PASSES!" She yells at him holding a bag to her chest, tears streaming down her face. I grab her arms holding them to her chest as she continues to yell at him. "Sorry mate its just a horrible day." I explain as I wrestle her into the lift. "Y/N!" I yell at her and she sobs clutching the bag. "All I had left George! I didn't even know I had it! And it was gone just like he's gone! It was practically a reenactment!" She cries and I hold her close. I kiss the top of her head knowingly.

"He's gone!" She sobs and I nod not wanting to add to it. As much as I miss Fred, she misses him more. She has had everyone in her life leave her and he was all she had besides our family but we weren't even close to him. She trusted him with her life and it was ripped away so quickly. Her love for him was more than a man could describe.

"Let's get you washed up..." I whisper and she nods silently.

***

Fred's POV:

I limp inside the home I once knew and look for my mother, brother, anyone. I can barely see through my bloody hair that has overgrown. I climb the stairs harshly noting the pain in my ribs. I open my room and everything is empty on my side. I walk over to George's bed and nothing. "Mum?" I barely croak. I keep searching ignoring the pain.

I hear a teacup fall and break behind me, I whip around to see my mother as pale as possible. "George? What's wrong?!" She asks and I try to smirk. "Mum wrong twin, but before I yell at you about that I need to find- well myself..." I say drawing my wand. "What? George are you alright? Please don't tell me my boy is gone too." She whimpers. "Mum, where have you last seen me, or well Fred?" I ask and she walks over, tears filling her eyes. "Georgie... Fred died. You remember don't you?" She whispers, combing my hair, I nearly relax at the sensation, haven't been able to see my mother in a year. Only being tortured.

"Mum? I died?" I ask and she sobs, holding me. "C'mon Georgie! Don't tell me we have to go back to St. Mungo's!" She sobs into my chest. "What?! George went to St. Mungo's?!" I ask getting worried. "Oh Godric... Georgie! Y/n! She snapped! Please stop this!" She cries and I freeze. "What do you mean mum?" I ask and she cries more. "You know what happened!" She clutches my shirt tightly. "Mum!" I say grabbing her wrists. "It. Is. Fred. I have been tortured for a year. I need to go find Georgie and Y/n. Where's my girl?" I ask getting worried. She places a hand on my cheek and looks at me carefully. "Freddie?" She asks and I nod, cupping her hand. "Yes mum. Freddie. Can you heal me up and show me where my girl and twin is? I haven't seen them in so long, I miss them." I ask and she smiles. "ARTHUR COME HERE!" She yells as she helps me to the den.

***

I walk into George's apartment with him and my parents slowly. "Why's she living here?" I ask and George sighs. "Please be calm alright?" He asks and I nod. He unlocks the door and looks around. "Y/n?" He calls and sighs. "Don't know why I try anymore..." He whispers mostly to himself. "Please show her slowly George. We can't have her getting worse." My mum tells him and he nods.

I walk into a room across from his and see her laying on her bed. "Hey Y/n! Got you a surprise..." George says and points to the corner. "Let me get her used to seein me first." He whispers and I look at him confused. She turns around and smiles at him silently. "Still no talking?" He asks and she tears up. "It's alright. Can you trust me real quick?" He asks and she nods confused. My heart breaks seeing her, she looks broken.

"C'mere Fred..." He tells me and she whips her head around. I walk over and she tears up. "No..." She whispers and I back away. "Hey Lovey..." I whisper. "You're dead." she tells me and I chuckle. "Turns out. A lot of people think that..." I joke and she walks over. She pokes my chest and I poke her shoulder playfully. "What was that for?" I ask joking and she says nothing but wrap her arm around me.

"Hey Y/n/n, want some tea and we can explain?" George asks and she nods. "Alright me and Fred-" He begins but she shakes her head, holding me tighter like a toddler with a teddy. "I want Fred to stay." She says and I kiss her head. "Y/n, you need to change." He tells her and she grips on my shirt. "I want Fred to stay." She repeats and he sighs. "George. She can just change while I'm turned around. I don't think she'll let me leave, right lovey?" I ask and she nods, nuzzling her face into my shirt. "He'll leave again." She states and I kneel. "Never again. I promise." I tell her and she starts to cry. "You said that." She tells me and my heart breaks. "I know, but this year was temporary. I promise." I tell her.

George finally leaves and she changes as quickly as possible and races back to hug me again. I pick her up and she stays hugging me. "Freddie..." She whispers and I nod. "I gotcha baby." I tell her and she shoves her head in the crook of my neck.

I sit down and George is tearing up. "You got her to talk." He tells me and I look at her confused. "What do you mean?" I ask and he wipes his face. "She was ok at first... Then she saw a Scrapbook of you guys. She realized that you were actually well- You know what I mean. And she stopped talking. We brought her to St. Mungo's in hope she'd start talking but after a month I just took her in here. Hoping one day she'd talk again. Then you came back. She talked for the first time today. Only because she saw you." He explains. "Your turn." She says and I nod, rubbing circles on her back.

"They thought us twins were the only two who were important enough to be in the army but slightly unimportant to kidnap one and try to get answers. They replaced me with a soldier using Polyjuice. Luckily... I had the memory of you guys keeping me strong." I explain kissing her neck. I feel tears on my shoulder and I move to see her face. "What's wrong lovey?" I ask and she hides in my neck again. "My fault." She cries into my neck. "Hey... What do you mean?" I ask and she nuzzles her face into my neck. "I didn't notice..." She cries and I kiss her neck up and down softly. "No baby, they took some of my memories so it would be impossible to not notice." I explain and she holds me tightly. "But I love you so much. I should've." She explains, taking breaks, every time trying to remember a word or at least how to say it. "I'm going to pack her things, I think your flat will be more comfortable." George says and I nod.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles and I kiss her again. "Me too..." I whisper.

***

"Good morning darling." I say as I sit on the couch next to Y/n. She smiles at me slightly and I grab the newspaper. "Want me to read for you?" I ask and she nods, laying on my lap. I run my fingers through her hair as I read the news, showing her the cartoons. I'm smiling and laughing for her until she gets up and grabs a grape. She eats it and I pop up straight. "Sorry did you want that?" She asks and I smile at her. I kiss her all over her face and she giggles. I start kissing her even more causing more giggles. The sound I haven't heard in two years, right before the war.

"Freddie!" She giggles and I smile at her with the dopiest smile I can muster. "I love your laugh..." I sigh and she smiles at me. I get a call and answer it seeing its George.

"Hey could you come down to the shop? Ron set off fireworks after falling and there might be a hole near your office. We tried fixing it but your Magic Blocker is being a pain" He tells me and I sigh. "Alright coming. You two are very much interrupting the best day of my life." I say kissing the crown of Y/n's head. "Why? What happened?" He asks and I smile at the girl in my hold. "Y/n both ate and I heard that gorgeous giggle of hers." I say smiling proudly at Y/n. She blushes slightly and I kiss her nose.

I get up to change with Y/n following closely behind after hanging up and change in our shared room as she fiddles with the sensory knickknacks. With my ADHD and her PTSD we got them to keep our minds healthy. I laugh when she throws the dollar bill squishy at me playfully. I pick it up and she smirks at me. "Pass me my wallet." She tells me and I sigh knowing what I'm getting myself into. I toss her the wallet and she opens it looking for something.

I continue getting dressed when I feel a coin hit my back. "Hey! Dollar bills!" I say tossing the coin back. "I see no such rule." She replies and I smile. "How can you annoy the hell out of me but make me fall so much harder..." I mumble and she smiles. "Its cause I pay good." She quips, tossing a coin at me. I finally get my belt fixed and I walk over. I pick her up and drop her onto our bed. I kiss her neck and she giggles as I tickle her lightly. "I love you so much..." I whisper and she kisses my cheek. "Not as much as I love you." She whispers back.

I get fully dressed and I watch as she disappears into the closet and returns, first eyes searching for me quickly and when she finds me she walks over hugging me. "Ready to go?" I ask and she nods.

Y/n's POV:

I walk into the shop with Fred as we walk out into the streets of Diagon Alley. "Busy street today." He mutters worried and I nod, holding onto his hand tightly. "Don't worry. If we lose each other, meet me at the shop. You know the way." He tells me and I nod silently.

We set off and halfway I lose him in the crowd. I look around scared. My heart beats faster and faster as the seconds pass. "Fred?" I say loudly and get no response. My heart starts to go faster than I've ever felt. "Fred?" I say, tears forming in my eyes.

What if he gets kidnapped again?

What if he's hurt?

What if I get kidnapped?

What if Fred has to go through the same as I did?

What if-

I rush to the shop and go into the bathroom, locking the door as I fall to the ground crying. My heart beating faster than it should. I try to breath but no air is allowed down my throat. Tears fall from my eyes and I cry harder.

I need to go back and look for him.

Stop being a coward.

He could be hurt.

God I can't move.

What if me being a coward causes the last of the Deatheaters kidnap him again?

I can't lose him-

"Y/n? Darling?" I hear and I wipe my tears, quickly standing up shakily. I unlock the door and smile at a distressed Fred. "Hey I just had to fix my makeup." I say and his frown deepens. "C'mere." He says holding his arms open. I stop before hugging him and take a step back. "How do I know?" I ask and he sighs. "I got some Veritaserum in the back if you'd like that." He tells me and I run into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry." I cry softly into his chest and he kisses my head. "I'm here for you every step of the way. For better and worse." He whispers into my head softly.

"Now it's time to deal with my idiot brother's mistakes."

***

Fred comes into the apartment and smiles happily. "Lovey!!!" He says and I smile brightly at him. I hold up my now empty plate and he wraps his arms, one hand holding his briefcase, around me. "I made you some too!" I tell him and he looks at the coffee table. "I can't believe I was lucky enough to marry you..." He whispers in my ear and I smile. "I can agree." I tell him, kissing his nose. It's been two years since he got back and I finally got better. I started talking again, laughing, hugging, all because I had my loving husband next to me the whole time. I still have some issues with him leaving but not as bad as before.

"How was work?" I ask as he sits down, starting to eat. "Good. Missed you though." He tells me and I smile, laying on his lap as he devours his food. I unbutton his shirt and pull up the t-shirt underneath, I put my head under the cloth and kiss his scars lightly as he rubs my hair lightly. "I love you my crazy lady." He tells me and I pull my head away, smiling at him goofily. "I love you my red haired boy."

#fred weasley #canon #george weasley #fred and goerge weasley #fred and george #hermione granger #ron weasley #Fears #hogwarts #gryffindor #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #slytherin #smut x reader #fred weasley x reader

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clusterbuck · 3 years

Text

wishing, wanting, yours for the taking

(1.8k, rated T, complete. vampire!buck au.) read it on ao3

@911week day 3: "whatever you do, please don't look." + hurt

Eddie sits in the parking lot outside Buck’s apartment for a long time, trying to decide whether or not to go in.

He wouldn’t even have to think about it, most of the time, would just walk right in. He has a key, after all. But their last call had been rough, and Buck had been quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the shift. Eddie had asked if he wanted to come over, but Buck had said he’d needed time alone.

That had set off the first alarm bells.

The next ones had come moments later, when he’d overheard Chimney and Hen talking about the fall Buck had taken, how they could have sworn he’d been impaled on the rebar sticking out of the floor of the abandoned apartment building.

“Trust me, I know my rebar injuries,” Chimney had said, and Hen had elbowed him, the way parents do when their kids say something inappropriate.

But Buck had gotten up and walked out of the building, which isn’t something people tend to do after being impaled by rebar, so Chim and Hen had let it go.

Eddie, however, knows better. At least he thinks he does. He doesn’t know how all of it works, exactly, but there is a very real chance Buck could, actually, be impaled by rebar and walk away. He’s just a little worried about the aftermath.

So now he’s in his truck wrestling with the fact that Buck had wanted to be alone, but every instinct Eddie’s ever had is telling him that he should probably check up on Buck anyway.

He gets out of the car.

Buck’s door is locked, but Eddie lets himself in with his key. None of the lights are on, and he doesn’t see Buck, which must mean he’s upstairs.

Eddie stands in the entryway and listens for a second, but the only sounds are his own breathing and the keys in his hand. He starts up the stairs, calling out for Buck as he goes.

“What—Eddie?” he hears, Buck’s voice somewhere between a mumble and a groan.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Don’t—” Buck says, and groans again, swallowing the rest of whatever that sentence was going to be.

Eddie reaches the top of the stairs and sees Buck in his bed, mostly hidden under a blanket. The sheets look bloody, and there are torn pieces of plastic littering the ground. They’re bloody too.

“Eddie, don’t—” Buck says again, and pulls the blanket further over his head. “Just—whatever you do, please don’t look.”

But Eddie doesn’t turn away. He doesn’t know how to not look at Buck.

Instead, he crosses the room and sits on the bed, somewhere in the vicinity of where Buck’s waist is under the blanket. He reaches for the top of the blanket and tries to pull it down, but Buck’s grip is surprisingly firm for someone who got impaled by rebar less than two hours ago.

Eddie isn’t surprised.

“Buck,” he says, channeling the gentle but firm tone he uses on Christopher when he’s being difficult. “I know you’re hurt. Let me look at you.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t even try it, Buck,” Eddie says, and pulls the blanket back.

Buck doesn’t look good. He’s paler than usual, almost chalky, and his hair is sticking in every direction. There’s blood smeared around his mouth.

“You can’t be here,” Buck mumbles. “I’m—”

“Hurt,” Eddie supplies. “You need help.”

“No, I mean…” Buck trails off and takes a deep breath, then shudders, like it’s hurting him. “I’m—” Either he can’t say it, or he doesn’t want to, because all Buck does is open his mouth and let his fangs slide out.

“A vampire,” Eddie says. “I know. Now will you let me take a look at you?”

But Buck is frozen in place, staring wide-eyed at Eddie. “You—you know?”

“Christopher has been really into the supernatural,” Eddie says, matter-of-fact, as he pulls down the blanket. “I put it together.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You weren’t harming anyone,” Eddie says, and gestures to the torn-up blood bags littering the floor. “I figured you’d tell me in your own time.” He moves Buck’s shirt aside and runs his hands over his torso, searching for the wound. In any other situation he’d be taking his time, cataloguing every inch of skin stretching across Buck’s stomach, but he isn’t clear on exactly how Buck’s healing situation works. He doesn’t know how much time he has.

He finds the wound on Buck’s left side. It looks like the rebar went clean through him, and from the placement, Eddie estimates it might have hit his spleen, maybe the large intestine.

“You’re telling me you got up and walked away after this?” Eddie asks, and he can’t tell if he’s annoyed or impressed.

“I thought it would heal,” Buck says, gasping a little when Eddie probes the exit wound at his back. “And I—ah—I couldn’t risk them taking me to the hospital again. I think they’re starting to get suspicious.”

“Why isn’t it healing?” Eddie asks, running through options in his head. He knows what he’d do if Buck was human, but he’s pretty sure none of that applies here.

“Rebar is steel,” Buck says. “Steel is mostly iron, and iron is a big no-no.”

“Why is that?” Eddie asks, momentarily distracted by the realisation of how much he doesn’t know about Buck and his… condition? Species?

“Can we do the whole walking vampire encyclopaedia bit later?” Buck groans.

“Right, sorry. So… the iron is blocking your natural healing?”

“I think so, yeah.” Buck gestures weakly at the blood bags. “I haven’t fed in a while, so I thought it would help, but…”

“Does the bagged blood usually work?”

“For feeding, yeah, but it’s not as—I don’t know the technical terms, but it’s not as—potent, I guess? They freeze it for storage, I guess that does something.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“What—what are you doing?” Buck asks.

“Is my neck okay? I don’t—I’m not too familiar with vampire lore, but a vein’s a vein, right?” And part of Eddie thinks it should feel weirder, negotiating where to let his vampire best friend drink from him, but—it’s Buck. If there’s something he wouldn’t do for Buck, he hasn’t encountered it yet.

“Eddie, you can’t—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Eddie says, and he reaches for Buck, helps him sit up and scoots closer so Buck can reach his neck. “You need help, so shut up and let me help you.”

Eddie doesn’t know how to say take me, take all of me, there’s no part of me that isn’t already yours. But this part he can do: he can offer up this part of himself, let his blood heal Buck.

“But—” Buck tries to argue, even as his fangs slide out again, and he leans closer, like he’s drawn in by the beat of Eddie’s pulse beneath his skin.

“But nothing,” Eddie says, and cups the back of Buck’s neck, pulling him closer until Buck is cradled against his chest, his face buried in Eddie’s neck.

There’s a moment where nothing happens, then Eddie feels twin pricks on the skin of his neck, and a strange kind of pressure as the blood starts flowing. Buck’s cool lips against his skin send shivers down his spine, and if he closes his eyes he can imagine Buck’s lips on him in a different situation, one where they’re doing this because they both want to and not because Buck might die otherwise and Eddie is pathetic enough to take advantage of it.

He still has a hand on the back of Buck’s neck and he slides it into Buck’s hair, holding him close. After a moment, Buck starts moving, like life is slowly flowing back into him. He lifts one hand to the other side of Eddie’s neck, and Eddie knows Buck is probably just trying to keep him steady, but there’s something infinitely tender about the way Buck’s fingertips tickle the back of his neck.

Buck’s other hand goes to his waist, his fist clenching in the fabric of his shirt.

It’s more intimate than it has any right to be, for a random Wednesday afternoon in July. It’s not even dark out, and lazy rays of sunlight filter in through the crack in Buck’s curtains.

Eddie wants to live in this moment forever.

Finally, Buck pulls away. There’s fresh blood around his mouth, stark against the dried rust-coloured stains from earlier. He ducks his head, looking away like he’s embarrassed, and before Eddie knows what he’s doing he reaches out and grabs Buck’s chin.

“Don’t go weird on me now,” he murmurs, swiping at some of the blood with his thumb.

“Is this really your threshold for weird?” Buck asks.

“All of this is weird,” Eddie admits. “But—Buck, I came here knowing exactly what you are, and I came to help you anyway. You don’t need to hide it from me, any of it.”

“What am I?” Buck asks, like this is the part of Eddie’s sentence that he’s stuck on.

“You’re Buck,” Eddie says, because in the end, that’s all that matters. “And, okay, I have some questions, but they can wait. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie’s pretty sure that every word he’s saying is telegraphing every single thing he feels, but if Buck picks up on it, he doesn’t say anything. Which is fair, Eddie thinks—Buck’s been through a lot today.

Besides, to the extent that he’s ever planned on telling Buck how he feels, it’s never taken place minutes after he saved Buck’s life. If they ever do have that conversation, Eddie wants to be sure that Buck isn’t being influenced by anything else, like the fact that Eddie knows he’s a vampire, or that Eddie just saved his life.

It’s not that he thinks that conversation is going to happen. Nothing Buck has done has ever suggested it would. But a guy can dream.

Buck is silent, and the longer he doesn’t speak, the heavier the moment grows. Eddie knows what it looks like when Buck is about to spiral over something that isn’t worth spiralling over, so he says the first thing he can think of.

“Okay, I do have one urgent question.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks, and when he looks up he’s a little wary, like he’s worried about what Eddie’s going to ask.

“I saw you take down, like, an entire loaf of garlic bread at the station last week. Shouldn’t that have killed you?”

“God,” Buck grumbles. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

“Wait, you can say god?”

“It’s—” Buck starts, then cuts himself off. “No, you know what, if we’re gonna do Vampire 101, I’m gonna take a shower first.” And Buck’s grumbling, but Eddie sees him smiling as he heads into the bathroom, and he thinks they’re going to be okay.

#911week2021 #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #vampire!buck au #vampire lore is a construct and i literally just picked parts i wanted tbh #shush emma #emma writes

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jilyyall · 3 years

Text

Everything Has Changed

One evening on the shore of the Black Lake as they bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, everything changed. Or, the first ‘I love you.’

They hadn’t been officially dating very long, but they’d shared a few snogs before they started dating – if just about every day since the beginning of the school year counted as a few snogs – and they had been open and frank about their feelings for each other for weeks before they’d made it official, and she’d known him since they were eleven, so when James was silent all day, Lily knew something was on his mind. She didn’t think he was upset with her; it wasn’t an angry silence. It wasn’t as if he was trying to hurt her feelings or punish her by not speaking to her. That wasn’t something that James would do – it was what Sev would have done, back when they were friends and he thought she had done something wrong and was trying to guilt her into apologizing to him.

Rather, she got the distinct impression that he was wrestling with something in his mind, taking his time mulling it over. It was so rare that he took the time to think things through rather than diving in head first that she let him have the day, the whole damn day, even though it drove her mad. She would even let him have the night, if she thought he still needed it. Tomorrow, however, all bets were off. Her boy was going to get this off his chest, whatever this was.

They were in the Great Hall having dinner quite early tonight, their two separate friend groups sitting near each other, but not entirely together – James sat on Lily’s right, and his friends sat to his right with only Sirius sitting across the table from Remus, two bodies down from James. On Lily’s left sat her friends Mary and Dorcas. The only indication that the two groups were at all connected was how close Lily and James were sitting, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, knees knocking, feet tangled beneath the table, even as they turned their heads away from each other to focus on their respective friends.

If he were physically distant, she thought, then she would have worried because anyone who knew anything about James Potter knew that he could not keep his distance from the people he cared about. Be it an arm slung over a mate’s shoulders, fingers threaded with hers or carding through her hair or dancing down her arm or brushing down her side, or the simple disregard for personal space, the boy was incapable of not showing physical affection. She doubted the idea of not touching her or Sirius or Remus or Peter at any given time ever even crossed his mind.

Not ten minutes ago, for instance, he’d walked in with his mates, a dejected Peter tucked under his arm, spotted her seated at the table and sat all but on top of her with nothing more than a graze of his lips to the side of her head in greeting as he continued to devote his sympathetic attention to Peter’s woeful tale of rejection. He’d even had to pull his place setting over in order to maintain his proximity to her. So, no, she didn’t have cause to worry that he was upset with her, or contemplating ditching her or anything of the sort.

Still, she was having a difficult time concentrating on Mary’s story about the Muggle boy her mum wanted to set her up with back home. Instead, she was wondering what exactly could be taking up so much space in James’s head. Currently, she knew, it was Peter’s heartbreak. She tried not to be very obvious as she studied him; none of the boys were paying her any attention. She could hear James’s soft, earnest, comforting tone as he spoke to Peter, told him not to worry about Melinda Sprockett, the pretty sixth year Ravenclaw girl who must have turned him down earlier. It should have comforted her to know that James wasn’t being quiet with everyone. It only made her more concerned that he seemed to be holding something back from her.

“Right, Lily?” Mary said loudly.

Lily snapped her gaze to her friends, embarrassed to have been caught not paying attention. “Er, yeah, of course!”

“I told you she wasn’t listening,” Dorcas giggled as Mary rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I was!” Lily insisted, but she knew she was arguing in vain. She had been caught out, but she wasn’t going to just admit it.

Dorcas wanted to drag it out - Lily could tell by the smirk on her face and the mischief in her eyes - but Mary, sweet, sweet Mary, took pity on her. “I was saying it might not be such a bad thing, you know? There’s obviously nothing wrong with Muggles on the whole - I am Muggleborn; it would just be stressful trying to keep magic a secret.”

“But do you even want to date him?” Lily asked.

Mary shrugged. “Well, he’s cute enough, I guess. But I don’t even know anything about him.”

“Well, it may not be a terrible thing to just have some fun getting to know him; then you can decide if he’s worth potentially breaking the Statute of Secrecy for,” Dorcas said around a mouthful of Yorkshire Pudding.

“Certainly it’s not really breaking the Statute of Secrecy?” Mary said, looking shocked at the thought. “If you fall in love with a Muggle, there’s got to be some sort of bylaw that says you’re allowed to tell them. Just like the Ministry told our parents about it when we got our Hogwarts letters.”

Mary looked at Lily as if expecting her to argue with her or confirm that surely it wasn’t illegal, but Lily simply didn’t know. She’d never dated a Muggle.

“You’re probably right,” Dorcas hummed and lifted a shoulder. “I really don’t know much about it, honestly.”

James’s fingers tangled gently in Lily’s hair and she glanced over at him, distracted, expecting it to have been an unconscious thing he did while still deeply invested in his own mates. She was surprised to find him staring at her, eyes soft and warm and glowing with something akin to awe behind his glasses. There was a small, fond smile on his lips as he let his hand fall from her hair to twine his fingers with hers.

“D’you want to go for a walk?” he murmured.

“Sure,” she said, and was about to stand and eagerly lead him away when she noticed the plate in front of him. Before she could say anything else, he was standing and gently pulling her to her feet. “But you’ve hardly touched your dinner.”

He shrugged and began to lead her towards the wide doorway.

Their friends watched them go without a word. Despite the fact that they had both been at least somewhat involved in conversation, there were no protests from either the boys or the girls. Though she hadn’t said anything, she knew the girls were aware that something was on her mind and she suspected that the boys knew much more than she did about what was going on with James.

“I’m not hungry,” he told her.

“What?” Lily couldn’t honestly remember a time James had turned down food when he wasn’t deathly ill or on the brink of collapsing from sheer exhaustion.

As if reading her mind, he gave her a look as they reached the Entrance Hall and headed out onto the grounds. “I’ll go to the kitchens if I get hungry later. It’s not a big deal.”

Lily let it go, but she still found it rather odd until she noticed how jittery he was. James was never one to sit still, was in constant motion be it a bouncing leg in class or long slender fingers tapping the desk during Prefects’ meetings. But this was a bit more than usual, she thought to herself as she watched him drag his hand through his hair for the fifth time since they’d walked outside. His head was swiveling this way and that and Lily would have worried he was looking for a getaway were his hand not so steady and secure in hers.

She realized as he gnawed on his bottom lip that he was nervous and despite the fact that she had been so convinced all day that he wasn’t planning on ditching her, ignoring the warm, fond look he’d given her just moments before, Lily suddenly felt herself growing paranoid. What in the world could possibly have James Potter feeling nervous around her? Unless he was planning to break up with her. Or had some other likewise bad news to share.

There weren’t very many people out; it was that time of year where it was beginning to get cold out and the sun was just starting to sink beneath the tree line of the Forbidden Forest so most of the student body was inside.

James led her over towards the Black Lake, and Lily watched him closely as he cheerfully greeted Martin Greene, his fellow Gryffindor Chaser, who was on his way up from the greenhouses. He didn’t seem nervous as he promised to see the younger boy at their early morning practice the next day, but his hand immediately jumped to his hair when Martin was gone.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Lily said softly, bumping her hip against his gently as they ambled along the shore of the lake. They had made about a half-circuit by the time she spoke.

James hummed, and she saw him nod out of the corner of her eye.

“A lot on your mind?” she asked. She had told herself he could have as much time to process his thoughts as he needed, but he’d invited her on this walk, hadn’t he? He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t want to talk to her.

“Yeah, I guess.” He sighed, and his thumb stroked along the back of her hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be pensive sometimes,” she assured him. Then that awful nagging worry struck again. What if she was reading all the signs wrong? What if his hand in hers wasn’t a sign that everything was fine after all? “As long as you’re not trying to ditch me.”

She tried to make it sound like a joke, but she knew she failed when he halted in his tracks and pulled her around to face him. His eyes were wide behind his glasses and his jaw dropped as if nothing had ever shocked him more than that one suggestion.

“What?” he said, still gawking at her. Then, “What?”

“I was only joking,” she lied weakly.

Though his shock had done more to assuage her sudden worry than anything she imagined he might say, she still felt oddly vulnerable. Ever since she had accepted her feelings for him at the end of Sixth Year, she wasn’t used to feeling off-kilter around him. Even before they were officially dating, when they were in that odd will-they won’t-they limbo, she hadn’t felt nearly so uncertain than in that moment.

When she tried to turn away to keep things light, he held her there by the hand, once more turning her to face him. His free hand lifted, stroking her face, cupping her cheek as he stepped closer and peered down at her, that same awed look as before mixing with the confusion.

“Lily,” he breathed, then shook his head as a bemused smile played on his lips. “Honestly, that’s the farthest thing from my mind. That’s the last thing I would ever do.”

She didn’t try to convince him she was joking, not again, not knowing that he could see right through her. Instead she bit her lip and tried to duck her head, but his nimble fingers on her cheeks kept her eyes on his. She felt her face flush, and she sighed.

“I’m mad for you, Lily,” he mumbled, and brushed his lips gently over hers.

“I feel the same about you,” she whispered, but she realized quite suddenly that maybe it was a bit more than that, actually. Maybe she a bit more than fancied the boy before her, judging by the way his silence had nagged at her all day until it had her on the edge of panic, fearing the worst even though she knew, logically, that her fear was unfounded.

And since when had being single again been the worst possible outcome her brain could conjure? It had only been a few weeks and already she couldn’t imagine her life without James Potter taking up so much space in it.

He smiled at her soft admission and then let go of her hand to bury both of his in her thick auburn hair. He kissed her, gently again, but much more solidly than a mere brush of his lips to hers. His mouth fit perfectly over hers, moving overs once, twice, thrice, before he tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

A piercing wolf-whistle broke them apart after what may have been several minutes and they looked across the lake towards the castle to find their friends, his blokes and her girls, gathered near what was widely considered the best tree due to its full foliage and location mere steps from the shore of the lake. It was fairly obvious who had made the obtrusive sound as Dorcas was currently hitting Sirius’s arm none-too-gently.

Lily looked up at James, surprised to find him looking somewhat disappointed by the arrival of their friends. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him anything less than thrilled to be reunited with his boys regardless of how brief their separation.

“Shall we?” she asked when he met her gaze.

He sighed, and his hands trailed slowly down her arms until their fingers were linked once more. “I suppose.”

They continued on their course, not bothering to speed up despite Sirius’s distant and persistent urging. James tugged her to a halt again just as they were about to round the last little curve of the shoreline, mere meters from their friends.

She peered up at him, mesmerized by the way the orange glow of the setting sun bathed him. He looked unreal; he looked perfect; he looked like a figment of her wildest dreams.

“I am sorry for worrying you today,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to be distant. I was just… thinking about something.”

“It’s okay,” she told him again. “I didn’t actually think you were going to ditch me all day. I don’t know why I suddenly got afraid of that.”

He smiled at her, and there was a slightly manic look to the way his lips curved up. “It’s just that… I got myself all worked up and nervous over it.”

She laughed at him because, well, she’d already realized that, hadn’t she? Almost as soon as they’d left the Great Hall he’d made it obvious how nervous he was. As he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her just a little bit closer, his expression dead serious, she suddenly realized why he was so nervous. And it was so obvious as well, wasn’t it? Hadn’t she all but come to the conclusion for herself mere moments before? Her breath hitched as he opened his mouth.

Suddenly, the wild Gryffindor in her wanted nothing more than to beat him to the punch. The softer, more caring part of her recognized that he had been struggling to work himself up to this all day and she had only had a few minutes of the realization, and she couldn’t take that from him. So, she smiled up at him and waited.

He was quiet for another second, then took a deep breath, and on a sharp exhale said, “I love you.”

Though she knew it was coming, the declaration made her heart sing and a little relieved giggle passed unbidden from her lips. Lily beamed up at him and it wasn’t until she registered the lingering anxiety in his eyes that she realized he was waiting for a response.

“I love you too, you idiot,” she said with a fond shake of her head. “I can’t believe you’ve spent a whole day stressing about saying three little words to me when it’s so obvious how I’d respond.”

“I’ve fancied this girl for four years and finally got her to date me and she thinks I want to break up with her,” he shot back, but he was grinning now, a mischievous teasing glint in his eyes. “Honestly, and all these years I thought you were clever.”

She rolled her eyes and he shook his head at her, splitting grin still in full effect, before he slid his arms around her waist, pulled her to him, and lifted her off her feet to swing her around in the air. Lily wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and threw her head back, laughing freely as he made her dizzy with all his spinning.

“I love you,” he said again as he finally set her feet back on the ground. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You know it doesn’t make it any more meaningful if you repeat it incessantly,” she teased, but he clearly wasn’t bothered as he lowered his head, his mouth covering hers completely, hands leisurely trailing up her body until one rested tenderly on the side of her neck and the other cupped her cheek.

He jerked away from her as a stream of water from the lake suddenly shot out and struck him in the side of the head, magically missing her by inches. They both whipped around to see their friends all laughing at them, Sirius’s wand hanging limp in his hand at his side as he was all but doubled over.

James took several hurried steps away from her, clearly intent on retaliation, before he turned around again, kissed her quickly and with a flash of a grin, and repeated, “I love you.”

Then he was gone, and was nothing more than a tangle of limbs as he wrestled Sirius to the ground Muggle-style. Remus and Peter stood close by, laughing, as Mary and Dorcas retreated hurriedly to avoid falling casualty to the boys’ roughhousing. They stopped in front of Lily and all three of them watched warily as James and Sirius rolled into Remus’s legs, causing the poor boy to fall on top of them as Peter dashed a few steps back.

“Boys,” Dorcas said, shaking her head as she watched Remus, usually the most composed of the lot, laugh and throw himself wholeheartedly into the pile of wrestling limbs.

“So immature,” Mary agreed with a little dismissive sniff.

But Lily couldn’t stop smiling as she watched James play with his mates like children. “Still love ‘em, though.”

#jily fanfiction #jily #james potter #lily evans #in which james is a nervous wreck and it makes lily anxious #until suddenly it all makes sense #the first i love you #and second and third and fourth and fifth and sixth #because the dam has broken and james cannot be controlled #not even by himself

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no-droids · 4 years

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Rough Day (The Mandalorian x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: When you woke up this morning, you didn’t really think it would be a “fixing Mando’s knife wound and then giving him a handjob” kind of day today but hey, who knew that agreeing to babysit a bounty hunter’s weird, green little child would be so full of surprises.

Warnings: Smut, language, handjobs (duh), dirty talk, Pedro Pascal (deserves his own warning), mentions of blood, spoilers for the Mandalorian.

Maker, why is this even a thing?

You don’t know his name. You’ve never seen his face. He barely says a word, doesn’t even move much unless he needs to. If he didn’t have such an obvious complex about droids, you would’ve thought he could be one himself, quietly forged and hidden beneath gleaming beskar armor for an untold number of years. You know practically nothing about him other than the few things you’ve heard about his culture—most likely either grossly exaggerated or just flat out nonsense. Everything about him is an enigma, even down to the vaguely impersonal things, such as the technical name for his “poof gun” or what insane percentage of his body weight metal has to account for.

But that doesn’t stop you. Nope, the fact that you’ve never even seen a strip of his skin doesn’t stop you from nursing a stupid, helpless crush on the quiet bounty hunter. Stars, it’s ridiculous. The modulated, low baritone, the intimidating way he carries himself, so stoic and dark and foreboding and tall—

He terrifies you. You’re absolutely terrified of bothering him, of being too forward or inquisitive. You sit in the cockpit with him for hours in dead silence, kid perched on your lap in the copilot’s seat to keep him from touching anything, hypnotized by the way his helmet subtly reflects the streaks of hyperspace as they race by and thinking about all the impossible things you want to know but can never ask about. The last thing you want to do is accidentally test his patience, possibly get marooned on some backwater planet somewhere because you just couldn’t accept something so beautifully mysterious for what it is.

So you ultimately strive to be almost as quiet as he is, always helpful but never in the way. You troubleshoot mechanical issues with the vessel when they make themselves known, take the baby in one of the secluded areas of the hull and play peekaboo for a bit when he gets too fussy, or just pick up a rag and start cleaning when there’s nothing else to occupy your time. You sleep occasionally, curling up on the floor of the hull with a blanket to avoid taking up too much space, living out of your suitcase and making a generous ten percent of his commissions just by copiloting and keeping watch over the child while he works. With the strict schedule he keeps, your pay is always handsome and consistent, even if it is all a bit boring.

Watching him wrestle his bounties into carbonite is admittedly the most exciting part for you, the rest of your days filled with nothing but the interior of the vessel as it either travels through hyperspace or sits stationary on a planet. He always returns to you bruised and dirty, manhandling and shoving his bounties up the ramp and into the carbonite chamber one by one, not bothering with the fuel needed to collect payment until at least three or four have been retrieved.

You try not to constantly replay the incredibly vivid memory of one of them snarling something sexually obscene at you once and how quickly the bounty hunter whipped his fist out and broke his nose before freezing him.

“Isn’t… isn’t he still conscious in there?” You remember asking, studying the disgustingly crooked angle of the man’s shattered silver nose, to which the Mandalorian shortly replied, “Yes,” before clambering into the cockpit and taking off.

You had to bite down on the back of your hand to keep from whimpering when you touched yourself later that night.

Maker, you want him. You want to help him relax, give him something soft and warm to come back to after exhausting days spent in the elements, after not sleeping for who knows how long and toting elusive criminals behind him. Sometimes you can’t think about anything else besides how hard he’d fuck, how much he desperately needs it, how sexy his voice would sound raggedly gasping your name through the modulator in his helmet. You want to get on your knees and give him the reward he deserves for putting himself in danger for a living, risking his life time and time again for mere credits. If he even returns your feelings by ten percent, it’d be gracious and far more than you deserve.

But then one day he comes back limping, dragging a dead body on the ground behind him by the hem of its ankle. The baby is already fast asleep in the cockpit so you thankfully have nothing better to do but watch as he silently hauls the dead weight into the hull, heaves it upright into the carbonite chamber. He’s slow—too slow in pressing the button. He looks at it for too long. It’s like he has to double-check it’s the right one, adjust his vision until it fully focuses and registers. Breath coming out stunted and shallow through his helmet, every movement somehow looks like it’s increasingly more difficult for him, limbs heavy and weighed down with iron braces and pure exhaustion.

His silhouette slowly approaches through the thick haze of freezing gas, and you blink rather stupidly down at your hand when an emergency cauterizer is suddenly pushed into it. Without a word, he turns around and starts working at his chest plate.

You’re… you’re actually kind of worried now. He usually takes care of these things himself, shuts himself away and tends to his own wounds after capturing unexpectedly difficult quarry. How serious must his injury be to not bother getting into hyperspace before treating it, much less even closing the door to the ship?

Finally managing to find some sense of urgency, you quickly reach up to fiddle with the complex magnetics below either of his pauldrons. Once the beskar, utility belt, and underplates are all removed, the Mandalorian abruptly drops to his knees with a loud clang and curls over, reaching behind his gleaming helmet to pull weakly at his cape and tunic. You lower yourself to the floor and help him, hands trying not to shake as the warm, tan skin of his spine gradually reveals itself from under the dark fabric.

Your heart somehow leaps and contorts simultaneously, soon catching sight of the ugly tear of a knife wound steadily dripping crimson down his side. “Shit,” you whisper, fumbling with the unfamiliar piece of medical equipment in your hands. “Shit, Mando, are—are you sure this’ll be enough?”

“Not deep,” he punches out through the modulator. “Just need… close it. Be alright. Sleep. Set coordinates…”

The cauterizer zaps red and reflects against the gradually dissipating fog in the air, its threatening buzz echoing throughout the quiet hull with impending pain.

“Try not to move,” you warn, swallowing thickly and reaching your hand out to rest along the smoothness of his bared skin. He noticeably flinches.

Your fingers squeeze gently, reassuringly as you bring the laser down and start at the very edge of the wound. The Mandalorian manages to stay remarkably still for being in what you can only imagine must be incredible pain, the skin of his back feverishly warm under your palm as it periodically flickers and illuminates a glowing red.

You have to bite down on your lip when he suddenly shoots a hand back to firmly grab hold of the bend in your knee, taking slow, deep breaths through the modulator and trying to relax the tensing muscles wrapping around his spine.

Maker, this is like a fever dream. His skin is so smooth, firm and lovely and bronze under your gentle touch, muscles pulsing with life as you slowly work to stop the bleeding by scarring over the tissue. It’s so… intimate. The silence broken only by the zapping cauterizer and his tight breaths, the way you’re both holding onto each other for entirely different reasons.

His grip on your knee suddenly turns to steel and he huffs out a ragged gasp in wordless caution, giving you just enough time to pull your thumb off the button before his body jerks a few inches in pain. His tunic falls down your wrist with the abrupt movement and nearly touches the sizzling wound before you can catch it, quickly yanking the fabric up his curled back as far as you can and readjusting your hold on him.

You give him a beat to recover like that before softly reassuring under your breath, “Halfway done,” and brushing the knuckles of your other hand down his spine in a small gesture of comfort.

His muted grunt of acknowledgement follows a minuscule little tremor under your palm, the way his body seems to be responding to your touch filling you with some new, radical kind of bravery. You quietly shuffle closer to him and turn the cauterizer back on, carefully framing his hips with your open legs.

“That little green thing up there is a monster, you know,” you suddenly say, wanting to distract him by filling the void but not wanting to overwhelm him with conversation. Even small talk is considered uncharted territory here, but you figure it’s better than letting him suffer in silence. “I saw it eat a live fish today. A fish. Grabbed it out of the pond over there like it was nothing and just swallowed the damn thing whole, fins and all. Most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You don’t hear him or see him move, but you do feel a subtle shake of his ribcage under your hand. It fills your heart with air.

“Was twice as big as the little hairball,” you continue on. “Surprised he’s not still flailing around in there right now, throwing him off balance.”

“Not with…those ears,” a modulated voice returns quietly, his gloved thumb barely brushing a half inch across your kneecap when you suddenly breathe out a laugh in surprised delight.

“Maker, it’s worse than I thought.” Your hand soothes gently along his back, trailing over the hills and valleys of each individual rib while you work. “A Mandalorian just told a joke.”

“S-symptom of… of impend—ing death.”

“Yes, well. At least the dramatics are consistent,” you remark. “I deserve a raise, by the way. Holding that little gremlin over the toilet and having him stare up at me while he does his business is getting real old real quick, tell you that much.”

“Reason…” he breathes out, trying not to wince, “…hired you.”

“Jerk,” you accuse with a smile. “He’s healing you next time.”

There’s a small huff through the modulator, and his helmet tinks against the metal floor when he abruptly drops his head to rest there.

“Almost done,” you tell him, curling your fingers and softly dragging your nails down his side in hopes of distracting him from the pain. It works like a charm, his whole body instantly going boneless at the sensation. “Finish this up, close the door, set coordinates. Get you clean, then you can rest for a few days. You work too hard.”

“Mand—lorean…” he barely croaks out in response, as if the almost inaudible word counts as a valid explanation.

“Hadn’t noticed,” you say, finally reaching the other end of the wound. You turn the cauterizer off and double check your work, hating the deformed scar for marring his beautiful skin but reasonably satisfied it won’t accidentally reopen. “Alright. Done.”

He doesn’t move.

“… Mando?”

His body stays completely still, unresponsive to your inquiry and his breaths no longer immediately audible. Your blood instantly turns to ice in your veins as you drop the silver contraption to reach around his body and shove two fingers under his helmet, pressing them up against his lower jaw as best you can. Only, the thick fabric of his cape wraps around his neck in layers like a shawl, blocking you from feeling his pulse.

“Shit,” you hiss, your other hand quickly rounding his side under the tunic to travel up the front of his bare torso instead. Pointedly ignoring the way his chest hair tickles your fingers as you wiggle them up firm pectorals and a prominent collar bone, you eventually find and push against a scruffy jawline.

The quick, steady beating under the tips of your fingers allows you to relax just slightly, but then the Mandalorian suddenly grunts and shifts, trapping your elbow under his arm and bringing his hand up to cradle the back of yours over his shirt.

You freeze with your body nearly folded over him on the floor like that, praying you haven’t overstepped somehow. This is an emergency, surely he wouldn’t think you’re—

Slowly, so achingly slowly, he starts to pull your hand down the strong lines of his neck. You gasp, fingers trembling under his as he gradually leads you lower, letting you trace the dip in his collar bone, spread out across the solid curve of his chest and feel his heart beat unexpectedly rapidly under your palm.

Maker, this is real—he’s real. Warm, sturdy, clearly too delirious and lost in the same exact euphoria you are to snap himself out of it. Touch. Skin-to-skin contact after so much isolation, so many years spent by yourself. In other circumstances, you might be worried that you’re taking advantage of him in his clearly exhausted state, but his grip on the back of your hand is so strong—his path so steady and clear as you both travel across the hard ridges of his sternum and abdominal muscles. If anything, he’s not giving you much of a choice in the matter, and for some reason that fact alone serves to make you incredibly bold.

When your fingers eventually bump into the hem of his trousers, you cautiously lean forward and press your lips to the Mandalorian’s exposed shoulder blade.

He instantly goes rigid at the gentle kiss. And then his entire back quakes with a shudder.

“Fuck,” comes that dark, gritted baritone through the modulator, losing all sense of composure and frantically shoving your hand beneath the fabric hugging his waistline.

“Maker,” you whisper against his skin, equally as fervent, letting him spread his legs slightly in his hunched-over position and maneuver your palm to wrap around a warm, thick cock. He groans and gives them both a good, rough squeeze over the thick layers of fabric.

“Fuck—you’re—“ he moans hoarsely, moving to brace an arm above his head on the floor with a metallic clatter so he can slowly start to thrust his hips into your clenched fist, “fuck—soft. How’re you so f-fucking—sof—oft. ‘N pr-pretty.”

Your body fills with wildfire, ladling heat into your lower tummy. “Softer somewhere else,” you admit quietly, brushing your thumb along the tip of his cock and humming when his body jerks with it.

“I—fuck—be-believe you,” he gasps, growing harder and harder in your hand. “Bet you feel—per-perfect. S’perfect. H-home. Rough—” his breathing stutters, helmet rolling to the side on the floor with a dull scrape, “Ngh, fuck—ro—ough day.”

“Let me handle it,” you murmur, beginning to stroke his throbbing length up and down in time with his cramped, stunted thrusts. It’s not ideal, of course; it’s dry, probably too dry but for some reason you think he might like it more this way. He gets to feel every ridge and crevice your fingers catch, gets to use his hand to tighten your grip around him even more and desperately start dry fucking your fist like he’ll never get enough of the sensation.

“Let you do anything,” he agrees mindlessly, the words sounding slurred and distorted as he groans them deliriously into the floor. “Give you—give you anything. Fuck. Sw-sweet girl. Helpful. Always—always taking care of things. The k-kid. L-look so—look so pretty.”

You press soft, open-mouthed kisses along the heaving curve of his spine, letting your warm tongue come out to taste the thin sheen of moisture glistening there. He growls low in his throat and freezes, holding himself perfectly still and clenching his hand into a fist on the floor as you flutter your tongue against his skin.

“I like taking care of other things, too,” you say softly into the dip in his shoulder blade.

“Ah—fucking, stars—like it—like it, too,” he grits, his cock pulsing between his legs. “T-too much.”

“Relax,” you encourage, reaching your other hand down to gently cup his balls. “Relax. You need rest. Just cum like this, I’ll go down on you later if you want.”

And then quite suddenly—so suddenly that you think it might actually surprise him more than you—he does.

The Mandalorian cums. Hard. In your hand, right there on the floor, dark clothes bloody and prestigious armor halfway ripped off his body.

A ragged gasp tears through the modulator and his back straightens, the chin of his helmet lifting off the ground a few inches with it and his balls pulling up deliciously tight under your palm. Warmth immediately begins to coat your fingers in throbbing spurts as he clangs a clenched fist against the hull, growling the first part of your name before it turns into a savage, wordless snarl.

You bite down on his back and moan with him, caressing the swollen head of his cock as it pulses spectacularly in your hand. His orgasm is long and achingly slow, draining his body of its dwindling energy with every thick rope of cum you’re able to milk out of him. He gasps and swears his whole way through it, until he finally exhausts every last reserve he has and collapses weakly to the floor.

With careful precision, you’re eventually able to remove your hands from his crotch. His back continues to rise and fall with quiet, steady breaths, clearly passed out from overexertion, but it does give you the opportunity and privacy to lick your fingers clean without feeling embarrassed for doing so in front of him.

Nope, no embarrassment, just so fucking turned on that you might actually die. He tastes absolutely divine—warm and masculine and gorgeously thick coating the shallow hills and shores of your knuckles. Following your own advice, you manage to stand on shaky legs and close the hatch of the ship, deciding you should probably plot a course for… somewhere, before trying to clean Mando up or dress his wound.

You take a second to look back at him, laying there in a gorgeously disheveled pile on the floor, dead asleep. It fills you with a surge of pride, being able to reduce such an untouchable, reputable bounty hunter to the level of any other man. You already want him again, you’re already addicted to the glorious power trip of feeling him let go and fall apart under your touch.

Later, you silently promise yourself, climbing the ladder to the cockpit. Later.

Edit: Read part two, Heaven in Hyperspace here.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #smut #the mandalorian x you #this is sin #whoops my hand slipped #pedro pascal #no-droids #fanfic

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spicymayo1983 · 3 years

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Hiya. This is chapter 20, the finale to this series. After welcoming your miracle baby girl you have the family that you've always wanted.

Two gorgeous kids, a loving husband, what more could you ask for?

Will this be the happy ending you've always wanted or will fate deal you another cruel blow?

Warnings, angst, smut, squirting, female receiving oral sex, not for anyone under 18.

20+years earlier, Yavin 4

Even as teenagers you had always sensed that there was a deep bond between you and Poe.

It was a unique bond that transcended time. It felt almost mystical. Surreal in a truly beautiful way.

Your parents never tried to discourage your relationship because even they knew, and could see, the tender love that was shared between the two of you.

It was a love that truly only came around once in a lifetime.

Late one night you're tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, when you hear a gentle knock at your bedroom window.

You immediately turn on your bedside lamp, and see the smiling face of your boyfriend.

You jump out of bed and open the window. You grab his arm and pull him inside your room.

"What are you doing here you dork? It's almost 4 in the morning". You tease with a slight laugh as you help him up.

"I sensed that you couldn't sleep, so I brought you these". Poe replied softly with a slight smile as he presented you with a small bouquet of freshly picked wildflowers.

"Oh Poe, that's so sweet". You tell him with a smile as you plant a soft kiss on his lips. "You're truly something else".

"Let's sneak out and go to our favorite spot". Poe whispered into you ear as he kissed your neck. "I want to cuddle you and look at the stars".

You quickly get dressed and the two of you quietly sneak out of your bedroom window.

Once at the spot overlooking the ancient temple the two of you relax on the damp, cool grass.

It seemed like there were a million stars in the sky that night.

You playfully climb on top of Poe and start to kiss him. The two of you roll around a little, making out and playfully wrestling.

Poe finally pinned you down, with a giggle you say,

"Oh no, looks like you win, what do you want the prize to be?"

"You". Poe replied quickly, smiling wickedly and passionately kissing you on the lips.

You unbutton your shirt a little, revealing your bare breasts. The tightness in a particular area of his pants betrays the fact that Poe is more than ready for you.

Poe kissed all the way down to your bellybutton, you removed the belt to your pants and he unzipped them for you, revealing your soaked panties.

With a quick kick your pants are off and on the ground. His head immediately went between your legs and he started to lick your clit through your underwear, making you close your eyes and cuss.

Poe slid three fingers inside of your tight hole as he nibbled on and sucked your swollen clit.

Your underwear quickly came off next.

It must have been a combination of the cool, damp grass against your bare skin and the intense pleasure he was treating your body to but you could feel your legs start to tremble and shake.

Your tightness gripped onto his fingers, gave them a squeeze and then gushed warm fluid all over him.

"Wow". Poe said softly as he gently removed his fingers from inside your body, softly stroking your clit and inner lips with his thumb. "That was really hot".

As your legs continued to tremble Poe began to lick your inner lips, teasing and pulling on them gently with his soft lips.

As you relaxed on the cool grass, nude and looking up at the millions of stars, Poe took his clothes off and climbed on top of you.

Because you were so wet his thick cock slid easily inside of your warmth.

"Poe". You whimper softly, closing your eyes and savoring the pleasurable sensation of your bodies connected together.

"I love you forever". Poe whispered into your ear as he leaned down and gave your neck a playful nibble.

Afterwards, just as he had promised, Poe cuddled with you under the stars.

As he's holding you tight in his strong arms you kiss him and ask,

"How did you know that I couldn't sleep?"

"I don't know". Poe replied with a laugh as he kissed you back. "That's what is so weird about it".

Present day

Whenever you're not doing well your mind wanders off and you recount the delightful memories with Poe.

You were able to return home with your baby girl two days later.

You're sore, and exhausted and weak, unbelievably weak. You can barely muster enough energy to even roll over on your back.

Poe was worried about you, this wasn't normal and he could sense it.

It was almost like you were slowly fading away, keeping your eyes open was a difficult task, it was like your body was finally giving up.

Poe had been taking care of his newborn daughter and now nearly 5 year old son by himself and he was at the end of his rope.

Your friend Esmaria came over to help.

"Poe, how is she doing?" She immediately asked.

"Not very well". Poe explained, with tears in his eyes as he snuggled his infant daughter. "She can barely move or keep her eyes open".

"I'm sure she'll be okay". Esmaria told him as she gave Poe a hug.

"I think we need to get her back to the doctor". Poe explained as he continued to snuggle little Kya, giving her a little kiss on the forehead. "But she's being hard headed and won't go".

"Ugh, typical y/n". Esmaria told him with a deep sigh as she shook her head a little. "I think she's just depressed after having the baby".

Poe pulled up a chair next to your bedside and held your hand in his. The look on his face was a mixture of heartache and worry.

"Are you feeling any better?" Poe asked, leaning down and kissing you softly on the forehead.

"Not really". You reply weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked again, tears streaming down his face. "Anything to make you more comfortable?"

"Poe, I think this is it". You tell him tearfully. "I think I'm dying".

"No, no, don't say that". He replied back quickly, shaking his head as he kissed your frail hand. "It can't be, it won't be, we can get you back to the doctor".

"I love you Poe". You tell him softly as you struggled to keep your eyes open. "I love our son and daughter too. Take care of them for me".

"Please don't leave us". Poe begged softly as he continued to hold your hand. "We were supposed to grow old together, remember?"

With a weak smile on your face you mouth I love you to your husband one last time as you close your eyes and drift away forever.

Ten years later

"What was mom like? Dad?"

"She looked a lot like you, I guess, with a different hair and eye color".

It was a full decade since you died. Poe was with your now 10 year old daughter in Yavin 4, who looked a lot like you only with her father's hair, skin and eye color.

Kya was 3 days old when you passed away. The older she got the more she would ask questions about her mother.

Poe told her what he could, but it was still extremely difficult to talk about you. He thought about you, his soulmate, constantly, and wondered what you would be like today.

Poe was in his mid 50's now, his once dark hair was mostly gray except for a few stray strands.

He had fully embraced the silver fox look and had aged gracefully. Poe was very distinguished looking.

He was still the leader of the black squadron.

Boe was a handsome, muscular 15 year old who was the direct image of his father. He was also into flying, adventure and getting into a little bit of trouble.

The girls loved him but he didn't have one steady girlfriend yet.

Kya was a beautiful, intelligent 10 year old whose interests included music and writing. She was a quiet introvert.

Esmaria, your best friend, had become Poe's second wife. She was an excellent stepmother and your children loved her.

Poe was visiting your grave with Kya. He was attempting to tell her all about you but it was still difficult for him.

He felt like half of his soul was gone. Poe loved Esmaria yes, but to him it was a different kind of love.

It lacked the passion, depth and intensity that the two of you had shared.

Kya went off by herself, leaving her father alone at your burial site.

"I miss you everyday". Poe confessed tearfully as he leaned down to clean off your headstone. "It still hurts like it was yesterday".

"Thank you for the beautiful kids, they're a pain in the ass sometimes but most of the time they're great". Poe continued, laughing a little. "Kya looks just like you, she's beautiful. Boe looks like me".

He left your family cemetery and headed to your favorite spot that overlooked the rainforest and temple.

Poe relaxed on the cool grass and with tears in his eyes imagined you next to him, cuddling him, kissing him.

When he opened his eyes you were right there, a figment of his imagination perhaps? But it looked so much like you.

Your image was solid, just like a real person. And your skin was soft and warm.

The memories came flooding back. The Summer days spent as teenagers, him consoling you after losing your parents, the day he found out that he was going to be a father.

You looked young, beautiful and healthy. Poe leaned over and kissed you tenderly, and with a huge smile on his face said,

"Y/n, things haven't been the same without you, I think about you every day".

"Poe, I didn't want to leave but I was sick and my body gave out". You explained, smiling a little. "I'm no longer in pain now".

"We were supposed to grow old together but I'm the only one that got old". Poe told you with a slight laugh.

"It isn't fair".

"I have to go now". You told him as you shared a final kiss. "But please tell Esmaria thank you for raising our children".

"I will". Poe told you with a weak smile as he stroked your soft cheek. "Goodbye".

With those final words you are gone again. The tears continued to stream down his face as he realized that you weren't coming back.

"Dad! There you are! We were looking all over for you".

The tranquil calm was interrupted by Boe and Kya, who had been looking for their father all afternoon.

Boe gave his father a huge bear hug, with a slight smile on his face Poe told them,

"I needed some alone time, I hope you kids didn't get into any trouble".

"Nah dad, I was just showing Ky around the temple". Boe replied quickly, smiling a little. "I think we're ready to go now".

Poe hugged his daughter tight, smiled and said,

"Your mother would be so proud of you two".

The end

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #poe dameron smut #star wars smut #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #fanfic smut #fanfiction #fanfic

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lady-wallace · 3 years

Text

In The Ground (Febuwhump Day 9: “Buried Alive”)

For today’s @febuwhump prompt: “Buried Alive”

Fandom: Merlin

Synopsis: Lancelot's misfortune after being attacked by bandits and injured only increases when they decide to do away with him by digging him an early grave.

For @aini-nufire ^_^ Thanks for the prompt, enjoy the Lance whump!

If you enjoy my fics, consider buying me a coffee on Ko-Fi! (you can request a doodle if you do!) I also do art and fic commissions

~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~

Lancelot drifted, the pain in his head seeping down through his body to meet at the pain in his side. The cloying smell of blood assaulted his senses as he heard voices trickle in.

"He dead?"

A heavy boot kicked him in the side and he flinched slightly, but couldn't even find the energy to moan, eyes at half-mast.

"Close enough," another voice replied.

"With those wounds he'll be dead before sunrise. Let's get him taken care of before he starts stinking."

Lancelot's pain-ridden mind couldn't really put two and two together about what was going on until two figures reached down and grabbed his wrists and ankles, dragging him along the forest floor for a few yards before he was left to limply collapse on the ground. Hands wrestled to take his sword and belts off, followed by his chain mail and boots.

"No point in wasting these," the gruff voice chuckled.

Lancelot made a small sound of protest but it was lost in the sound of the men moving around him, the sound of dirt being shoveled.

Lancelot frowned. What were they doing?

He drifted again, and was startled into his half-conscious state again by the men grabbing him. He tried to struggle but didn't have the energy to move. They were lifting him up and…

He fell, hitting a slightly giving surface. The smell of soil assaulted his senses and, worse, it began to rain down on his face.

He glanced up and saw two figures standing over him, pushing the dirt down on top of him.

"St-stop," he whispered, voice barely audible.

They didn't stop. They probably wouldn't have even if they had heard him. The dirt piled up, and Lancelot somehow found the strength to bring his arms up over his face. Maybe, just maybe he could leave himself enough room to breathe for a while. Enough time to…

To what? He could barely move a finger let alone dig himself out of this.

This was it. He was going to die. Buried alive.

Lancelot felt the panic settling in, his breath quickening, which was not good. More dirt settled on top of him, pressing down, pushing him further and further into the ground. The light was blocked out. He couldn't breathe… The smell of the soil was all encompassing. Was this what hell felt like?

He supposed he would find out soon…His despair darkened to resignation as he felt the blackness overtaking him.

~~~~~~~

Merlin and Gwaine flew through the woods.

"Lancelot!" Merlin shouted. "Lancelot!"

"Where the hell is he?" Gwaine breathed, whipping around to look for their lost comrade. They were supposed to have gotten separated. It was supposed to have been an easy mission—but then, wasn't that what they always said?

There was just nothing, until they came across the remnants of a camp. No one was there, but Merlin still looked around, having a bad feeling about this in the pit of his stomach.

"Gwaine…" he said.

The knight was crouched on the ground, running his hand over some leaves. He pulled it back, rubbing his fingers together. "Blood. There's blood. A good bit of it too."

Merlin pressed his lips into a thin, worried line. "You don't think…I mean, there are a lot of bandits around here, but Lancelot…"

Gwaine stood. "Lancelot!" he shouted again, looking around for any other sign of their friend.

Merlin headed in the opposite direction, wondering if Lancelot might have wandered, injured, into the woods, having gotten away from whoever he might have tangled with.

That was when he saw the freshly turned earth.

Dread instantly settled into his stomach.

"Gwaine," he called, voice choked.

Gwaine turned. "What is it…" he trailed off as he saw what Merlin was looking at.

"No…" he murmured.

Merlin wasn't going to believe it, he was not going to accept that Lancelot might be…

Soil suddenly dipped, startling them both. It might just be settling, or it might mean…

"Gwaine!" Merlin barked suddenly. "You don't think?"

Gwaine cursed and they both fell to their knees, tearing into the soil with their bare hands. Luckily it was loose, and despite the small rocks and twigs that bit into their hands, they made short work of it, throwing it behind them unheeding, as they fought to find out what had become of their friend.

Merlin finally scraped against something soft and giving. Something warm.

"Gwaine!" he gave a strangled cry, more carefully pushing the dirt away as he uncovered an arm. He and Gwaine hurriedly followed it up to uncover Lancelot's dirty face.

"Lance!" Gwaine shouted, frantically shoving the last of the dirt off of him before he and Merlin each grabbed Lancelot's arms and hauled him out of the hole.

Lancelot was a dead weight, and Merlin hurriedly checked him over. Dirt matted his hair, sticking to the blood that coated one side of his face, and more from a wound on his side, still sluggishly bleeding. But what was more worrying was that he wasn't breathing.

"Lancelot!" he cried, shaking him, pressing a hand against his chest. He pushed, at the same time forcing a little magic into the knight, hoping it would be enough to get his lungs working again.

A wrenching gasp shook Lancelot's whole body as his eyes flew open and he coughed, turning onto his side and curling up weakly.

"It's okay, you're all right," Merlin reassured him, keeping a hand on his back.

Once Lancelot became a little more aware of his surroundings, he pushed himself shakily upright, looking in grateful awe at his two friends before reaching out to grab the front of their shirts, tears streaming down his cheeks, making clean tracks in the dirt.

Merlin and Gwaine simply hauled him against them, feeling Lancelot tremble as he sobbed silently in relief and residual terror. Merlin held him tighter. He couldn't even imagine how horrible it would be to be caught underground, buried alive.

When Lancelot's shaking eventually slowed, he pulled back, bringing up a hand weakly to wipe his face. "Th-thank you," he whispered. "I…I don't know…"

Gwaine gave him a watery smile and squeezed the back of his neck. "No need, brother."

"We're just glad we got to you in time," Merlin said with an exhale, squeezing Lancelot's shoulder.

The knight nodded solemnly, obviously grateful for his friends and their punctuality.

"Come on, let's get you back to Gaius," Merlin told him and he and Gwaine pulled him to his feet, taking most of his weight.

"And if you can't walk, I'll carry you on my back," Gwaine told him with a grin.

Lancelot gave a weak grin back and settled his arms on both of their shoulders. "I think I'll be okay now."

They headed back to Camelot like that, grateful that all three of them would make it home.

#merlin #fanfiction #febuwhump #febuwhumpday9 #one shots #my fics #whump #buried alive #lancelot #Lancelot whump #merlin to the rescue #Gwaine to the rescue #art #merlin fanart #terror #rescue #hurt/comfort

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isis-astarte-diana · 4 years

Text

With Teeth (Part 4)

Part 1 ‖ Part 2 ‖ Part 3 ‖ Part 4

Summary: “I do like this game. Don’t you?” Missy gets stuck in.

Warnings: NSFW. MIHOW. Dark!Missy. Consensual non!con roleplay with hints of dodgy relationship dynamics. More threats of physical and sexual violence and mutilation (let’s be real, that’s what you’re here for). Boot worship/trampling. Spit swallowing (yeah, I went there). Dehumanisation/use of “puppy” as a pet name. generally just Missy getting to fulfil her (and my) nastiest dominatrix fantasies lmao

Word Count: 2784

NB: this fic was never supposed to be so long but I’m having too much fun. I hope think you can all guess what direction this is going in.

For a moment, Missy lets you get your bearings.

It’s not a mercy; far from it. In the brief stillness and silence, save for your own ragged breaths and choked whimpers, the true extent of your position is finally allowed to sink in. It’s a sobering reality to which she draws your attention.

With her knees braced on your biceps, you can barely move your arms, and since her weight in the small of your back keeps you pinned to the ground you have no hope of rising up onto your knees. You can squirm, a bit, and kick your legs - attempting it now, you hear her chuckle above you, the point of the hatpin pushing harder against your neck until your feeble struggling ceases - but to no end.

The silk slip is bunched up around your waist, leaving you as good as naked. Your bare breasts are crushed into the cold floor. Your thighs, your arse, your cunt are all exposed completely and you draw your legs tightly together in an effort to preserve some modicum of decency. Even so, you can feel slippery arousal in your inner thighs, belying the game, revealing your enjoyment.

“Well, then.” She rocks her hips, pushing your breasts and stomach harder into the ground, emphasising the weight of her on your back. It knocks you breathless with a huffed groan. “Shall we proceed?”

A merciless tug on your hair, tight enough to your scalp that you can feel the tension right through into your forehead, lifts your face once more. Missy sets the hatpin down just out of reach of your restrained arms. It sits directly in your line of sight, a silent threat, a constant reminder of how tentatively your safety hangs in the balance.

No hitting with a closed fist. No scars. Nothing you’ve never tried before.

Her rules, not yours; rules that you suspect may be susceptible to her caprice. Even assuming, as you hesitate to do, that she won’t deviate from them in the slightest, they leave her more than enough leeway to make you suffer for any misdeeds, real or imagined. Suffering is entrenched in the game already - you need not invite more.

“You’re probably pretty, aren’t you?” Her mouth lowers towards your ear, and your skin prickles at her tone. The cool leather covering her other hand smacks roughly against your cheek, leaving sharp heat in its wake, making you wince. “Such a lovely, soft mouth. I wonder,” two gloved fingers slide between the teeth parted to allow your gasping breaths, “how much can you fit in there?”

With that she thrusts them deep enough to make you retch, dragging the supple leather uncomfortably at the back of your mouth, letting you taste the earth and smoke musk of it. You jerk in her hands, igniting your scalp with pain as you wrestle with her grip on your hair. She laughs, sweet and melodic.

“It’s fairly roomy, isn’t it? I should think I can probably...”

The pressure leaves the back of your throat as she twists her hand, forcing a third and then, awkwardly but with determination, a fourth finger inside. Fitting her thumb is more difficult; she has to tuck it in against her other fingers, stretching the corner of your mouth wider with the motion. The skin there stings in protest when she pushes against it, her knuckles resting against the outside of your teeth, no room left for more.

You ease your head back as far as her grip on your hair will allow. She follows this tiniest of movements, granting you no escape. The depth of her reach into your mouth is hindered by the breadth of her hand, leaving just enough distance between the soft, fluttering membrane of your throat and the tips of her fingers for you to breathe around them. Saliva pools beneath your restrained tongue, a thin line of it trickling over your bottom lip in the space between her thumb and forefinger. It slicks your chin on its path to the floor.

“There we go! My goodness. I do like this game. Don’t you?”

Missy rolls her hips again, crushing the breath from your chest, choking your cry with her gloved hand so that it’s barely audible. She hums as if in agreement.

“I have to admit, I’m curious. If I just kept going, which would give first, do you think?” She pushes again, letting you feel the threat in her fist, the strength of her hand where it sits between the weakest points of your skull. “Does the broken jaw come before or after the Glasgow smile?” Her grasping fingers wrap around your tongue, the disturbance liberating another rush of spittle from your stuffed and gaping mouth. “It’s sort of a chicken or the egg problem, I suppose, but a bit more interesting.”

She squeezes your tongue between her fingers.

It’s surprisingly painful, and you react instinctively, trying to slide it free and drag it further back in your mouth where she can’t reach it. Her fingers tighten in response. Even with your mouth flooded with saliva as it is there’s too much friction from the leather gloves for your tongue to wriggle loose, and the punishing way she pinches down on it has all the sharp, aching pressure of a bite. It has you squirming, writhing underneath her weight, pulling loose a muffled wail of protest as your eyes screw closed and fresh tears begin to well there. She doesn’t let up.

All that you can do is sink your teeth into her gloved fingers and hope for mercy in the face of such a trespass.

It is a hope quickly extinguished.

Missy yanks her hand free of your mouth, tugging uncomfortably on your tongue as she does so, and clamps her palm down over where your lips are still parted from the cruel violation. With her thumb and the knuckle of her index finger she crushes your nostrils to stop your breath.

“How many teeth do you have again, poppet?” She asks, a thin layer of sweetness in her voice failing to conceal the razor edge beneath. “Thirty-something, was it?”

You attempt to suck in a breath and succeed only in fastening your lips vacuum-tight to the leather that covers her palm. Her fingers are wet from your mouth where they press hard into the soft flesh of your cheek.

“At any rate, enough to string a necklace with, I’m sure.”

Another grinding shift of her hips, crushing out a breath that can’t escape while her hand smothers you. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, feeling your lungs beginning to burn with need. She doesn’t pause, circling her hips, flexing her thighs, riding you like a broken filly. It takes a moment for you to realise that she must be stimulating herself like this.

The wool skirt, its thin lining, and the linen chemise beneath it are all gathered between and around her legs, creased into folds and ridges of fabric that she can drag herself against. You, bordering on inanimate underneath her, form the perfect surface. Your every squirming movement must press sweetly at the apex of her thighs.

The thought is impossibly arousing.

You squeak, breathless, pitiful, into the suffocating leather. Bucking weakly underneath her you don’t know if you’re more keen to unseat her or to help her along with her pleasure. It crosses your mind that she might stay here, might slowly press the life from you with her hand blocking your airways and her rolling hips crushing your lungs, until she comes. What could you do? What choice would you have but to serve, but to be the warm body against which she could grind and rut herself to orgasm?

It won’t come to that. You know that it won’t. Missy knows your tells, knows the limits of your body better than you do, is intimately aware of just how far she can push you without breaking anything that doesn’t want to be broken.

Nevertheless, it’s starting to hurt.

Battling for breath like this would be hard enough at the best of times, but the writhing pressure on your back has your temples throbbing, your eyes aching behind their closed lids, your throat alive with a screaming pulse that works fruitlessly to keep you conscious and fighting. Your upper body is seized with it. Adrenaline begins as a prickle over your scalp, colder and crueller than the sting of her fingers in your hair, and works its way further down, over your face, washing through you like frigid water save for the sweat that beads on your forehead.

“I suppose you need to breathe, don’t you?” Missy’s voice is harsh, rendered rough by her own ministrations, desperation of a different kind thickening the words. “Wouldn’t want to spoil the fun too soon.”

The noise rattling from your open mouth is barely audible. Again, you clench your thighs, shift your hips as best you can, the need for breath and the need for touch tangling together until you don’t know where they meet.

“I am going to stand up now,” she warns, punctuating the words with a punishing jerk of her hips that sends light sparking behind your eyes. “And you are going to stay still.”

You manage another weak sound, scraping your palms over the floor until they sting, unable to nod or to promise obedience. You would offer her anything for the mercy of breathing.

You would offer her anything if she would let loose your hair and reach back, behind her, to slide her gloved fingers just once through the flooded folds of your cunt, oxygen be damned.

When she moves her hands it’s as though the dam that held back your cries has burst. Your breaths are loud, juddering, forced in and out by shrieking sobs. Along with them comes a fresh flood of saliva, puddling obscenely in the palm of her glove. She scrubs it off with a rough drag of her hand across your face, smearing your skin with your own lukewarm spittle. It dries cold and sticky.

She rises to her feet with startling grace.

The absence of her weight, of the warm pool of fabric that had cushioned her, leaves you shivering. Your arms are sore where her knees had been. Without thinking, you move your hands, reaching to soothe the ache in your biceps.

“Stay,” Missy snaps, her boot landing between your shoulder blades by way of reminder. She doesn’t press much weight into it; just enough that you can feel the sharp edge of that Edwardian heel, digging in with needle precision. You fall still immediately, pressing your forehead back to the floor, letting the strain ease from your neck where it had been craned. Your fingers flex uselessly in the empty air while the pain slowly dissipates from your arms.

“Now roll over.” She lifts her foot, nudging your side now with the toe of her boot. You obey without hesitation, shifting onto your back, eyes closed against the sight of her. The rush of cool air against your breasts and stomach makes you wince and it’s nigh on impossible to resist the urge to cover yourself with your hands.

“Good girl,” she coos, bitterly patronising. Nonetheless, the praise inflames you. “If we can do something about the biting, we’ll make a show puppy of you yet.”

Your eyes snap open at the press of cold, rough leather across your mouth.

Smiling sweetly, Missy grinds the sole of her boot into your face. It doesn’t hurt - she’s careful, no weight in the pressure, no force behind the heel that pokes your cheek - but it’s uncomfortable, deforming your lips, the friction burning your skin. You can imagine the angry pink marks it will leave behind.

She looks more beautiful than ever.

“I’ll let you keep your teeth,” she teases, her nose crinkling with a sharp and mocking sneer. “Where you keep them is up to you.”

You can’t turn the muffled noise you make into anything resembling horror.

“And your tongue?” Encouraged by the way you react to her threats, she presses just that bit harder, just enough to pinch your mouth with biting discomfort. “Should I cut that out, do you think? Make a lovely stew?”

Unravelling beneath her boot, your breaths harsh and unsteady, you reach up to grasp her ankle. The leather is supple beneath your sweaty palm. It occurs to you to try and push her away and, in the same instant, to tug her weight down harder. Caught between the desires you let your hand fall limply back to the ground, whining.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She grinds her heel into your cheek again, and this time the sharp, twisting pain makes you groan. “Speak up, now.”

“Please,” you cry, distorted and pitiful underfoot.

“No, still didn’t catch that, I’m afraid.” When she lifts her foot the rush of blood back into your flesh is prickling and painful. There’s a faint taste of metal from your lower lip where she’s dragged it against your teeth. “Try again.”

“Please.” It’s a keening rasp. You wet your lips and swallow hard, painting for breath. “Please, don’t.”

“Oh, why not?” She pouts like she’s been denied a treat. “I think it sounds like jolly good fun.”

With a playful flounce of her skirt she crouches over you, standing above your head so that her face is a dizzying upside-down image of glistening teeth in a too-red mouth.

“I’ll tell you what,” she catches your jaw in her hand and squeezes, gloved fingers pressing into your sore cheek, forcing your mouth open as you croak a miserable noise of protest. “If you can convince me you know how to use it, I’ll leave your pretty mouth intact.”

She works her jaw and purses her lips in an all-too-familiar way.

Degradation, in all its forms, is Missy’s favourite pastime. It is one in which you are only too happy to indulge her, for the most part, though there undeniably are things you do solely to please her rather than out of any organic desire of your own. Watching her draw saliva into her mouth has your eyes widening, a choked gasp spilling from your throat.

The wave of revulsion that you expect never comes.

Perhaps it’s the freedom of the game, the way it liberates you from reality, this role of the subjugated captive taking hold deeper in your mind than you’d expected. Perhaps it’s the prospect of taking her inside you, in whatever way she will allow, after being used as little more than furniture for so many torturous minutes. It could simply be the aching loveliness of her face above yours like this.

Either way, when she spits directly into the back of your gaping mouth, your dripping cunt clenches around the empty air.

The noise you make has her grinning, smiling too genuinely for the part that she plays. She suppresses it quickly.

“Swallow,” she orders, and your thighs snap shut as if she’d caressed you.

It’s with an obscene gulp that you obey.

“That’s a good puppy.” The heat that rises into your face comes with another desperate gasp. “Now kiss your Mistress.”

It’s not until her lips meet yours that you realise that she hasn’t even kissed you yet; she takes advantage of your shock, ransacking your mouth with her pointed little tongue. She tastes the backs of your teeth, irritates your hard palate until you whine at the ticklish insistence, throbs slick and cool and powerful inside you. It’s restless, greedy, inelegant, and almost painfully erotic.

Her breaths are heavy in your mouth, her hand sliding further to cover your throat so that you scarcely even notice when she catches your tongue between her teeth until she’s biting it.

You cry out, jerking, tears springing to your eyes in an instant at the sudden and vicious pain of it. Missy presses her fingers down either side of your windpipe, stilling your squirming shoulders with the threat of a tighter grip. Unthinking, conscious of nothing but the sharp teeth sinking into your tongue, you claw at her hand and her hair.

She lets go, practically shrieking with delight, apparently unbothered by your scrabbling attempt to move her. You pull your tongue back into your mouth and fasten your lips tightly, whimpering, looking up at her with wounded eyes.

“Oh, I'm going to like this,” she purrs. When she releases your neck and begins to gather her skirt higher, you forget the pain entirely. Plum wool and thin white linen brush your forehead on their path up her thighs. “It’s been too long since I broke in a new pet.”

#mine #missy x reader #the master x reader #gomez!master x reader #nsfwork

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pocket-luv101 · 3 years

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Summary: Kuro fights Sloth. (KuroMahi)

“This way, Mahiru!” Youtarou shouted and dragged him away from the rampaging beast behind them. They had created several traps to keep the beast from escaping and attacking Mahiru. The magic circle would contain him and Gear would keep him from escaping. If he did break free, Sloth would follow the Abel doll that was enchanted with his hair.

The dirt shook beneath them each time he slammed his paw on the ground. Kuro’s roar caused Mahiru to turn around to look back at the beast. Beneath the rage and aggression of its attacks, he could see that it was in pain. He wished there was something he could do to help Kuro fight Sloth. The most he could do was trust his growth and the strength of their bond.

He tried his best to dodge the rubble that flew towards him. He didn’t want Kuro to blame himself if he was hurt during the night. Youtarou pulled him towards the bushes where he would be safe. Mahiru wanted to call Kuro’s name but that would draw Sloth’s attention to them rather than the doll. He bit his lip and silently called to Kuro in his heart. “Please, Kuro, you can beat him.”

Mahiru sensed a presence in front of them and his eyes widened when he saw the cat doll. Sloth would often take the form to speak with him but he should be fighting Kuro currently. Youtarou wasn’t able to see the doll and continued to pull Mahiru forward. He dug his feet into the ground and yelled: “Wait, Youtarou! Sloth is there.”

“So, you’re the real Mahiru.” The doll chuckled and its words caused him to stiffen. Too late, he realized that the doll’s presence was a simple trap. The only difference between Mahiru and the enchanted doll would be his voice and how he could see Sloth.

He sensed the beast charging towards him even before he turned around. With Kuro’s speed, it would be impossible for him to escape. Mahiru instinctively shoved Youtarou away from him so he wouldn’t be hurt. He turned towards the beast to see Gear being knocked into the air. The only thing Mahiru could do was shout, “Kuro!”

Mahiru braced himself for the pain and he squeezed his eyes shut. He only felt a powerful gust of wind and the ground trembled beneath him. He opened his eyes to see the beast slam its head against the ground repeatedly. While Mahiru knew he should take the opportunity to flee, his legs wouldn’t move. He was held in place when he looked into its desperate red eyes. Kuro took a new form as the lion but his eyes were the same. “Gear, is there a way for me to talk to Kuro in this form?”

“Ash has control of the beast right now but we don’t know how long he’ll be able to hold Sloth back.” Gear thought it was best to be cautious. He knew the pain of losing a loved one and he didn’t want Kuro to experience it. “Get back, Mahiru.”

“You should hide somewhere safe while we keep Kuro from attacking you. Gear, use this scarf to tie Kuro down while his head is on the ground.” Youtarou unfurled a long scarf and tied one end to a tree. He threw the other end over the lion’s large head and Gear caught it. Gear pulled the scarf taunt and kept the lion restrained. “I knitted the scarf with werewolf fur so it won’t break easily. I’m glad that it’s long enough for this to work. Let’s hide, Mahiru.”

“Kuro, can you hear me in there?” Mahiru didn’t respond to Youtarou because his focus was on Kuro. He whispered his name again as he walked closer to him. The beast was larger than a building and it could easily eat him whole. Yet, Mahiru wasn’t scared. He touched the lion’s muzzle and looked into his eyes. He could faintly see Kuro and Sloth fighting in the reflection of his red eyes.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him disappeared and he sank into darkness. Mahiru stumbled to catch himself as he saw the ground rush towards him. He groaned softly as he crashed but the fall didn’t hurt. He pushed himself up and he saw Kuro and Sloth wrestling a few feet from him. “Kuro!”

“Don’t come any closer, Mahiru!” He shouted but Mahiru was already running to help him. He didn’t know how he was pulled into Kuro’s soul but this was their chance to take Sloth’s power. They had a better possibility of overcoming Sloth together. He summoned his spear to force the two apart.

“Blood.” Sloth kicked Kuro off him and then rushed towards Mahiru. He lifted his spear to defend himself but something caused him to hesitate. The demon resembled Kuro, as if they could be brothers, and it was difficult to raise his weapon at him. Mahiru could only hold his spear up to block his claws. At the same time, Kuro grabbed Sloth from behind and tried to restrain him.

Then, the sun came. A powerful storm of Jinn swirled around the three and the rising dirt forced Mahiru to shut his eyes.

Light filtered through his eyelids and the wind died down. Mahiru slowly opened his eyes and he found himself in the forest again. The lion was gone and he immediately searched for Kuro. He saw him lying on the ground with the scarf loosely draped over him. He ran to his side and knelt beside him to see if he was hurt. Kuro’s clothes were ripped and torn but he didn’t appear injured.

“Kuro, are you okay?” Mahiru needed to hear his voice to be certain that he was safe. “Please, Kuro.”

“Mahiru?” Kuro groaned softly and opened his eyes. Their gaze met and Mahiru smiled weakly back at him. The night was chaotic but his soothing presence calmed him. He couldn’t stop himself from throwing himself over Kuro in a hug and he clung to him. Beneath him, Kuro winced in pain. “My body is sore. I haven’t held that power in a long time and I forgot how overwhelming it was.”

“Can you walk back to the cabin on your own or do you need help? You can lean on me.” He offered but Kuro didn’t move. Mahiru could only imagine how tired he was after the fight and he tenderly brushed his bangs from his red eyes. Kuro was disappointed when he moved off him and he missed his warmth. Then, Mahiru lifted Kuro’s head and shifted so he was laying on his lap. “You can rest, Kuro.”

Mahiru called to Youtarou and Gear in the distance. “Are you two okay too? Kuro can’t move so I’m going to stay here with him. Can you bring back something for him to eat?”

“Okay,” Youtarou replied. “I’ll get him bandages as well.”

“Ash won’t be hurt physically in his fight so you don’t need to get bandages for him. I’m the one who was actually injured.” Gear pouted and his wolf ears flattened. Youtarou could easily guess the reason he was sulking and chuckled. He took his hand and began to wrap a bandage around his wrist. He gasped when Gear adjusted their hands so their fingers locked together and he pulled him towards the cottage.

Kuro watched the two disappear into the house and said, “Gear’s wolf nature is troublesome. I just want something to eat after the night I had. I doubt they’ll be back soon.”

Mahiru didn’t know how long he sat with Kuro sleeping on his lap. He knew he was tired and he didn’t want to wake him, even as his legs were tingling slightly. He watched him sleep and tenderly ran his fingers through his light hair. The countryside was quiet and the only sound between them was Kuro’s breathing and birds chirping in the distance. He hummed along with the birds and he wished they could stay in the peaceful moment.

“Your hands feel nice.” Kuro whispered and Mahiru looked down at him. He reached up to touch the small scrape on his cheek. The mark had been created when he entered his soul and fell on the ground. The ground near them had been torn by the lion’s claws and the remains of the fight reminded him that they still needed to worry about Tsubaki. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t defeat him and that thing almost… Can’t deal. We’re lucky that the sun came up and reversed the transformation.”

“Thinking simply, you made a lot of progress. We’ll try again tonight.” Mahiru smiled down at him and his eyes held a mixture of confidence and affection for Kuro. A few days ago, he was terrified about his future because he didn’t know if his uncle had survived the attack. He was grateful that Kuro was there to support him and reassured him that he wasn’t alone. He wanted to support him as well.

Mahiru took Kuro’s hand and rubbed his thumb over his palm. There were small scars on his fingers and he wanted to kiss the faint lines. He held himself back because he didn’t know if such an affectionate gesture would make Kuro feel awkward. He only squeezed his hands gently and said, “You stopped Sloth before he could reach me. Thank you.”

There were a lot of things Kuro had given him that Mahiru felt thankful for. He filled his life with laughter and his home with warmth. Mahiru thought of their time together and the future he wanted to share with him. He was pulled out of his thoughts after he felt lips skim over his knuckles. His eyes widened when he realized that Kuro had kissed his hand.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Mahiru.”

“I trust you, Kuro.”

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction

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simp4sam22 · 3 years

Text

Title: Unexpected

Summary: A hunt goes wrong and John is forced to watch his sons make love, something they’d been doing already, right under his nose.

Pairings: Sam and Dean, then Sam x John x Dean.

Warnings: incest, slight daddy kink, forced voyerism and then a consensual threesome.

~*~

When John woke up that morning, he hadn’t expected to be dealing with.. this. He’d dealt with witches before, okay? He knew what the hell he was doing.

But this witch.. she knew what she was doing, too. She was older than she looked, probably a century old. John was, admittedly, out of his element with this. Which was why he found himself against a pole, wrists tied together on the other side of it. In an abandoned building, of course.

His boys were on their knees in front of the witch, her spell keeping them from moving. John felt helpless as he watched her hand cradle Sam’s face.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch him!” Dean hissed before John could even say anything. Dean had a fire in his eyes, something John had seen before in the past. Dean was always protective of his little brother, it was the way John raised him after all.

The witch just smirked, nonplussed by Dean’s outburst. She turned to look at John, her deep brown eyes turning a shade of purple. Sam’s eyes rolled back as her hand rested against his forehead.

“What are you doing to him?!” John screamed. He wrestled against his restraints, but it was no use. The rope was enchanted. They were trapped and he could only blame himself.

“Sammy-“ Dean had tried to call out, but cut himself off once Sam finally looked at him. “..Sam..” His voice was tight as the youngest Winchester was finally able to move. His hand landed right on Dean’s thigh. The eighteen year old’s cheeks were flushed red, pupils blown as he slowly trailed his hand upwards.

Dean’s eyes flashed from Sam’s to John’s, and the older man couldn’t exactly explain the emotion in them. “Sam, get a hold of yourself. This.. this is a spell. She’s got, What, Sam-“ Dean‘s words cut off with a gasp as his brother gripped at his clothed cock.

“You’re fucking sick!” John yelled out to the witch, who merely laughed in response. “Stop, Sam. Now!” John ordered but to no avail. Sam seemed miles away, lost in the feeling of his brother’s jean clad cock in his hand.

“He can’t hear you, Johnny.” She pointed out uselessly. She neared Dean then, who was still begging, pretty weakly by that point, for Sam to get a hold of himself. He’d barely noticed when she came by, too distracted by Sam’s hands. He didn’t have enough time to react to her touch finding his temple, and just as Sam, his eyes rolled back. And when they returned to their natural place, they were lust blown and hooded.

“Oh, no, not-Damnit! Come on, boys, you can fight this! Stop-oh god-“ John’s voice caught in his throat as his sons started to kiss deeply, their hands working together to get their clothes off.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? The way lovers come together so naturally.” She commented from beside John. He sneered at her, which only made her grin more.

“This is the opposite of natural, you bitch. You’re manipulating them!” John pulled at the rope around his wrists in one last attempt at escape. Of course it didn’t work.

Her laugh, though pretty, felt like daggers to his ears. “You really think this is the first time? You must be blind.. because I saw what was in Samuel’s head, Winchester. He and his brother.. well.” She trailed off, motioning towards the scene unfolding in front of him.

They were naked already, clothes in a heap beside them. Dean had Sam in his lap, kissing him hotly as his hands gripped at his little brother’s ass.

John turned away, taking in a deep breath. He couldn’t watch anymore. He refused to believe what the bitch was saying. It was ridiculous. Not only that, he would have noticed right away if something like that was going on.

“No, Winchester, you need to see this.” Without touching him, she used her magic to force his head to face them, his boys. Sam was leaning against Dean, his head in the crook of the older man’s shoulder. Dean had.. oh god.. Dean had his spit slick fingers inside his little brother’s ass. Two of them.

And Sam, he was.. he was moaning, his voice small and sweet. He was begging for it, begging for Dean’s cock to split him open and John wanted to cry. He wanted to cry because what he was seeing was wrong, unnatural, and was most likely going to scar his boys for life.

And above all, he could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes because he could also feel the heat of arousal pooling in his gut. He could feel himself chubbing up behind his jeans and it was just so wrong.

“Daddy’s watching, Sammy.” Dean said out of nowhere, his voice gruff with lust. Sam moaned weakly, hips pushing back against three fingers. John’s eyes widened at the sound of the words, his cock at full mast because of it.

“You gonna let daddy see you like this, all stretched out and begging for your brother’s cock?” Dean kept going, but still made no effort to look up at John. Which was probably a good thing. John didn’t know if he could handle their eye contact right then.

“Heh.. what an interesting development.” The witch bitch murmured to herself.

“By the way, my name is Evanora. Not Witch Bitch. Thought you big bad hunters would have figured that out already.”

John chuckled weakly with a shake of his head. “Naw, we know your name. We just don’t give a damn about a washed up old hag like yourself.”

She was in his view in seconds, covering up the sight of his sons. Her brown eyes flickered a deep shade of purple, her full lips pulled up in a feral grin.

“Those are big words coming from a man who’s getting hard looking at his own kids.”

His lips turned into a flat line, his face hot with embarrassment. There was no use hiding it. His cock was hard and straining against his jeans, and no matter how depraved it all was, what she was saying was true.

“Not that I can blame you. They really are beautiful, aren’t they? You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed that.” Evanora whispered against John’s ear, the sound sending shivers down the hunter’s spine and down to his length.

“The older one and his pretty plump lips? His bright green eyes? Oh, and the younger one.. such a puppy dog look those hazel, right? The sweet tilt to his voice?”

John wanted nothing more than to shut her up. He didn’t want to hear that, didn’t want to hear how true it was. Thankfully, or not, her tormenting words were cut off by a loud grunt from Sam.

She got out of his line of sight and right there in front of him, Sam was sitting straight on Dean’s thick cock, stretching his spit slick hole.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Sammy.. always so tight..” and damnit, he looked tight. John couldn’t help but imagine how warm Sam would be, how he’d feel around his own-

Stop.

John forced his eyes closed and sucked in a deep breath. What was left of his sanity was screaming at him to get a grip. These were his children. And they were.. they had been..doing this for awhile, apparently.

Dean had his arms wrapped around Sam’s waist as the boy bounced, his head in the crook of his little brother’s neck. Sam was babbling about how good it was, how big Dean was, and then he turned his head slightly, just so he could look at his father. John’s breath caught in his throat at just how beautiful Sam looked right then, with his long hair sticking to his face and sweat prickling his shoulders and back-

“Daddy.” Sam gasped for John, and Dean groaned, finally looking over his brother’s shoulder to look at the older Winchester.

“Sammy is so tight, dad. So warm. Wish you-wish you could feel it, too.” And with that, he pushed Sam onto his back, his long legs over Dean’s shoulders, and fucked into him at an almost too rough pace. Sam’s red tipped cock leaked onto his own tummy as his moans reached a higher pitch.

John’s head slumped back. He was unable to look away. The worst part was that he wasn’t under any spell. He could look away if he wanted. He wasn’t even sure if the witch was still there. John couldn’t even bring himself to care.

He licked his lips as Dean gripped at the back of Sam’s thighs and pushed them down to his chest. From that angle, John was once again able to see Dean’s thick cock disappear and then reappear from Sam’s ass. Dean’s amulet hung low between them.

“Gonna come, Sammy baby. Want me to fill you up?” Dean ground out, his eyes just on Sam. The youngest Winchester nodded, his grip tight on Dean’s shoulders.

“Please, De. Want it.” Sam gasped, and Dean rammed all the way in as he came, filling Sam’s ass to the brim. And then Sam was right there with him, his back arching as he came, untouched, just from the feeling of Dean spilling his load inside of him.

John watched as they rode out their orgasms with slow, lazy kisses. Dean cradled his brother’s red cheeks, whispering out his love for Sam, and the younger brother was doing the same. For awhile, they just held each other.

John could see how much they loved each other then. It filled his chest with joy despite everything, his own erection long forgotten.

That was until his boys finally sat up and made their way over to him. “Boys-“ John tried, but the words caught in his throat when they both fell to their knees in front of him.

They each had a hand on his thighs, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Can we, Daddy?” Sam asked sweetly. Dean toyed with John’s belt, looking up at him through long lashes.

“Please, dad.” Dean blushed deeply as he begged, like he wasn’t used to being in that position. Somehow John could tell he still liked it though, and he wasn’t sure if that was real or because of the witch’s spell.

That thought alone sobered him enough to make him shake his head. “You don’t really want me, boys. The spell-“

“She’s been gone for awhile now. It’s just us. No more spell.” Dean pointed out as he reached around to remove the rope around his father’s wrists.

John rubbed at the bruises around his wrists and took in a deep breath. His cock was still rock hard and straining behind his jeans, and it was starting to hurt with how much he needed to come. And Sam and Dean, they were offering to help, without the coercion of the witch’s spell.

John didn’t know what to do. It should be easy just to say no. To just tell them to get dressed so they could leave and forget that this ever happened.

But as he opened his eyes and was brought back to the sight of his boys on their knees for him, he knew there was no way he’d be able to deny them this.

John brought his hands down to their heads, ran his fingers through their hair as he nodded. Without a moment of hesitation, Dean worked the belt through the loops and dropped it to the floor. Then Sam was unbuttoning John’s jeans, and then unzipping them. His boys both worked together to pull it down, until it and his boxers were at his ankles.

“Daddy-“ Sam gasped, followed by Dean’s gruff, “Fuck, dad.” John couldn’t help but feel bashful as they held his heavy cock in their hands.

Sam went in first, licking up the shaft greedily. John bit his lip, his grip already tight in Sam’s hair. Dean was shy with his movements, his tongue gently lapping at the leaking head. That was just as hot to John, his fingers carding through Dean’s light brown hair.

Sam’s tongue traced back to the tip, right along side Dean. The both traced the head until their tongues met, both slick with spit and pre and the sight almost made John come on the spot.

And if that wasn’t enough, Sam actually took him into his mouth, all the way. John could feel Sam’s throat spasm around his cock as he tried his best not to gag and he couldn’t hold back the groan that spilled from his lips. Dean smirked up at him.

“Sammy’s really good at this, dad.” Dean murmured as he stood up. It was somehow different having him in his face. More intimate somehow.

“Warm little mouth,” Dean whispered hotly into John’s ear just as Sam pulled back just to hollow his cheeks as he bobbed his head. “Go ahead and pull his hair. He likes that.” And then Dean was kissing his father’s neck, his hands trailing up John’s shirt.

“Shit, boys. That’s.. fuck.” John cursed, his voice gruff as he tugged at Sam’s hair just as Dean suggested. Sammy moaned around the length and looked up at John with wet, lust blown eyes.

“Daddy..” Dean murmured shyly, the sound of it made John’s hips sputter slightly. “Can I kiss you?” Dean asked, his fingers brushing gently against John’s hard nipple.

John used his free hand to take Dean by the nape of his neck. He looked his oldest over, at his freckles cheeks, flushed with heat. He was so beautiful.

Without a word, John pressed his lips against Dean’s plump ones. The hand that was up shirt moved to John’s bearded cheek as the kiss deepened.

Sam pulled off his cock then, but still used his hands to jack John off. “You two look so good.” He said through a happy sigh. John ran his fingers through his hair, the motion tender as his tongue met Dean’s.

Dean moaned hotly into John’s mouth just as Sam took him back in. John was so close. He could feel it pool in his abdomen, the heat of it threatening to boil over. He couldn’t find the words to express this. He hadn’t felt that good in so long.

His grip tightened on both his boys as he came, right down Sammy’s throat. Dean kissed him through it as Sam swallowed every drop.

Soon enough, he was done. His head fell back against the pole as he tried his best to catch his breath. Sam made his way to his feet, and he towered over both Dean and John by three good inches.

He made sure to swoop down to kiss John, not even bothering to ask like Dean had. John could taste himself on Sam’s tongue and that alone caused his soft length to twitch pathetically.

Sam had pulled away then, a satisfied smirk on his face. Dean smiled up at him and ruffled a hand through his baby brother’s hair. Sam leaned into the touch, his hazel eyes soft. Dean pulled him down and kissed him gingerly.

“You boys really do love each other.” John breathed out after he shakily pulled up his pants. His kids were still just as naked as the day they were born, not a care in the world.

Dean intertwined his fingers with Sam’s. “Well.. yeah. We have for awhile now.” He looked up at Sam then, his smile warm. The younger Winchester returned the gesture, and then reached out to take John’s hand in his.

“And we love you, too, dad.” Sam said, his voice so sweet that it made John’s chest feel nothing but warmth.

John tightened his grip but his eyes fell the floor. “Are you two sure...?” John asked. He couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t deserve their love. Not after all he’d done as a person and as their father.

They both leaned in and kissed John on the cheek. “We love you. We want you.” They whispered in unison. It made John feel happy, happier than he’d felt in a long time. After awhile, the boys finally got dressed and they all left together.

When John had woken up that morning, he hadn’t expected to deal what he’d been presented with. Somehow, though, it seemed to work exactly in his favor.

#wincest #Sam x Dean #Sam x John x Dean #bottom Sam #twink Sam #daddycest #Sam/John/Dean #Sam/Dean

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bnha-almost-a-hero · 4 years

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₊˚.༄━━𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄,

𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄,

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; yandere! shigaraki tomura, gender neutral! reader, toga himiko, dabi

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲; le casa de papel

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; mentions of death, blood, knives, mentions of guro, one mention of abuse, a knife fight happens, toga is a yandere and a whole ass warning on her own, dabi makes like one sexual reference, language, a vague post-apocalypse with bad worldbuilding, one vague reference to the dabi is a todoroki theory.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭; adaptation━━༉‧₊˚✧.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭*; (╭☞•́⍛•̀)╭☞ @inanabsentia & @maris-chan!

*just ask if you wanna be added or removed!

You stand straight as bone as you feel the sharp tip of the blade press hard against your back. A cold, clammy tingle pricks at your fingertips as your heart swells your veins with blood and your nerves pumps adrenaline through your body. You remember back to your biology class, remember back to your school days.

Conflict is a constant when observing animals and their behaviour. Species fight over territory, food, mates and other resources necessary to sustain life. You can remember the clicking beneath your biology teacher’s feet as they paced across the classroom, how eccentric they had been. Whilst fighting and killing is a necessary evil in nature, there are a list of animals who engage in killing for pleasure without any reasonable gain. Amongst these animals are humans.

If you attacked Toga or even killed her, would it simply be adhering to your animalistic nature, or was there another way around the situation? Vaguely, in some broken recess of your mind, you remember someone telling you that diplomacy was strictly a human invention: better than the wheel, or the steam engine, or even money.

That most likely wasn’t true, of course, but it was a thought that passed your mind. Maybe if you talked your way out of this, maybe if you used reasoning and such, you wouldn’t have to fight at all. That was preferable.

“I—,” Your mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, your throat so dry it ought to light a fire. You stare ahead at the door across the hallway—white and gilded and ostentatious. If only you could reach out and push it open, escape towards the light. That was when you glimpsed it.

The door was ajar, if only slightly, enough for the passing person to be able to look in with ease. You swallow deep and turn toward Toga, readying your bluff, “I was going to close the door. I—I didn’t want anyone listening to us.”

Toga grips your arm harder, twists it hard as she swerves the knife round and forward in one swift motion, until it’s inches from your throat. You can almost smell the metallic tinge of the steel. The metal glints in the harsh light emanating from the bulb above you, a white, flashing warning of danger that curls around the blade. Your heart pulses.

“Do you think I’m stupid, ____-chan?” Toga asks. Her voice is simple, with the sing-song inflection that you’ve come to know from her. “I know you’re not totally onboard with Tomura’s plan, my Izuku wasn’t either, but you’ll come to know. You’ll learn to love him,” She leans in to press her face against the crook of your neck. Her breath pricks at your skin as she speaks. “Just you wait. Love is the best feeling there is. The thump, thump of your heart filling with sweet, sweet blood. Oh, it makes me so, so thirsty, ____-chan. Can’t you tell?”

You loathed to think of what her idea of ‘thirsty’ was and you were even more loathed to imagine confronting Shigaraki. Your instincts were begging you to look past all that, however, and look to what really mattered. And what really mattered was dealing with the blade hovering near your throat.

“Toga—” You consider for a moment, then correct yourself, “Himiko, please. Look, I—” You swallow your pride and your emotions and the sick, sinking feeling in your gut. “I’m flattered that Shigaraki, I mean, Tomura, feels like that. Maybe, if you could let me talk to him, we could come to an agreement? You know, on our own?”

Toga hums, the vibration wracking your body with another layer of warm chill. Finally, she withdraws the knife from your neck with a slash and speaks, “Maybe,” She states, sliding two fingers against your arm, “Maybe I’ll talk to him for you. Oh! I’ve always wanted to play matchmaker! In my perfect world, I get what I like, right? I really, really want you two together. You’ll let me do that for you, won’t you?” She grips your arm tighter, practically wringing it out in her ferocity. Her other hand twirls her blade around for your scrutiny. “But, I really want to cut you first, though,” She hovers her lips close to your ear. “It’s been so long since I tasted blood. Just a little prick or maybe a little more?”

Your brain helpfully flicks through a thousand ways you could die all in an instant, but the adrenaline has you feeling a bit more determined, a bit more defiant, a bit more animalistic. Diplomacy was certainly not going to work judging by Toga’s tone, but you really didn’t want to wrestle a teenager to the ground. Although, your frontal lobe reasons, she is a direct danger to you and your survival. Attacking her would be a matter of self-defence; you’d be standing your ground.

“I’ll cut you nice and deep, maybe to the bone.” Toga mutters, casting a gaze to her knife. “No, no, the knife’s not sharp enough. I guess Tomura won’t mind if I cut into your leg or maybe your arms. I’ll just get a nice, juicy vein—“

Without a thought, you draw your elbow back and jam it against Toga’s skull, sending her stumbling back as you hop to action and begin running.

Before the world had ended, you had tuned into some nature documentary whilst cleaning. It was about a wolf and a hare. You remember all of the adaptations the hare had, how evolution had saved it from the claws of the wolf time and time again.

It was funny now and you had to stifle an ill-timed chuckle. You were the hare, running along marble instead of the dewy grasses of a morning pasture and Toga was something of a wolf, with her blade as her claws and her paws twitching to be coated in blood.

“I like it when they run,” She giggles simply as she joins you in your tango between life and death. You barely hear her past the thumping of your ears. Or was that your heart? “They always get scuffed up when they run.”

Your lungs and your nostrils burn white-hot and you count. You count the uneven footsteps of Toga’s shoes against the waxy marble; you count the pulsings of your heart against your rib-cage; you count the metres between you and safety. To fall now, even if it was a brief stumble would mean pain—grievous pain knowing Toga.

And you wouldn’t dare let your friend, Izumi, down like that. You couldn’t leave them alone surrounded by villains lead by a man who hated them. And you make a promise to Izumi as you run, a promise to yourself. There’d be no more playful banter with your villainous captors. Every step you took would be a step devoted to leading your fellow hostages out of the bank and to safety. You swear upon it.

“Gotcha!” Toga announces suddenly, diving toward the floor to grip at your right leg. She tugs sharply and you come tumbling to the ground with the scuff of a shoe. Reflexively, you allow your body to fall on your arms—the only thing saving you from a possible concussion, though your elbows are left aching and burning as a result.

Toga pulls you toward her once more, but you turn swiftly and jam your knee up into her face. She groans, head bobbing backward and you roll fully onto your back, using your left leg to shimmy your way across the floor. A giggle ricochets off the walls, as Toga rears her left arm up and you catch a glimpse of her knife against the ceiling light.

Shit, you think as she bears the knife down onto you. Your attempt to roll to the side is halted as Toga digs her knees into your pelvis, pinning you to the ground as the knife inches closer and closer. Your body lurches up on its own to grab at her wrist with all the might you can muster, holding it in place as she struggles against you.

“Come on, ____-chan!” She begs, pressing the knife down harder. You dig your nails into her wrist but she doesn’t budge. “I swear I won’t touch your face if you just let me—!”

Pinkies, your brain reminds you, put pressure on her pinkies. Your eyes blink with realisation as you remember the online self-defence course you took on the recommendation of your friend. If you put pressure on an opponent’s pinkies, they were more likely to drop their weapon. Something to do with nerves or reflex or something.

You curl your fist around her left pinky finger, twisting it backwards. Her face scrunches up as she screams and her knife drops onto your chest.

Dopamine and adrenaline flood your veins as you grab her wrist and slam her down onto the floor beside you. The yellow of her eyes haze over as you grab the blade and press it flush and flat against her throat.

For good measure and to rub your victory in, you press your knee into her gut and she coughs weakly. Your chest rises and falls as you murmur a thanks to your self-defence tutor, with techniques like that they’d do good in an apocalypse.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, more out of surprise than anything. “I—.”

The creak of the hallway door surprises you and you force your eyes up. Dabi stands there in the threshold, looking quite pleased with himself as he buries his hands into his pockets.

“What did I tell you about attacking the hostages, you crazy bitch? Especially when its Crusty’s favourite jizz material,” He meets your gaze with an electric blue, then angles his head in the direction of the main atrium. “The boss wants to talk to you, or somethin’. Probably gonna confess his dweeby love. I’ll follow you there so Crazy doesn’t attack you again.”

You nod and pocket Toga’s knife in case Shigaraki tries anything. As you rise to your feet, however, Toga grips at your leg. When you look down at her, her nose is all bloody and her lips are curled into a wide smile.

“You’re so strong,” She murmurs, coughing up a little blood and bile. “I wanna be just like you.”

You can’t help but shudder and turn away from Toga—guilt settling deep into your gut. I just beat up a seventeen-year-old whilst being held hostage by Japan’s most dangerous villains all during a post-apocalypse, you think, I need to write a memoir and get a publishing deal.

Dabi holds his arm out for you and, when you quirk a brow, he scrunches up his nose and shakes his head.

“I was taught etiquette as a kid,” He elaborates as he guides you to the bank’s main office that Shigaraki has declared his own. “Hard-ass dad beat it into me; it’s a reflex now.”

You nod—wondering how somehow Dabi of all people could be the most sane villain out of the bunch. Then again, you haven’t exactly met the others but you didn’t have much faith in their tact.

You walk in pleasant silence until Dabi comes to a halt in front of a grand door. He turns to you.

“Don’t tell Shigaraki that I brought you here,” Dabi instructs you with a grave look on his face. “He’ll piss his pants if he knew I touched you.” He looks down to the pocket, bulging with the imprint of Toga’s knife. “Oh and try not to pull the knife on him right off the bat too.”

You nod again and smile as he turns and walks off. Then, steeling your nerves—your bones—your heart before, finally, you turn and knock.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha x reader #tw: yandere #tw: blood #tw: fight #tw: gore #tw: knives #tw: death mention #🙴 my work.#˙˚*:･ﾟ༻series: adaptation

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Mischief, Meet Your Match - Chapter Four (Loki x Reader)

WARNINGS: Violence, Swearing, Smut, Loki

SUMMARY:

Sam would say your liking for bad boys has gone too far.

Tony would kill the God of Mischief with his bare hands.

Steve would lock you in your room and never let you out.

Natasha would probably just throw you off the roof.

But there’s just something about Loki that draws you to him, and you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to.

MASTERLIST

It felt like being sucked into a vacuum and being dumped into a blender while there was a dubstep concert going on around you.

Your feet finally hit sold ground and your immediate reaction was to try and faceplant the ground, which you would have done if not for Loki’s hold on you. You tried to swear loudly but what actually came out sounded a lot more like

“Fwwaaargh.”

“Eloquently put.” Loki said dryly from behind you.

You weakly tried to wrestle yourself away from him in vain until he sighed loudly and abruptly released you. You stumbled forwards a few steps and sunk to your knees.

“The fuck Mischief?” You demanded.

“Pardon?”

“You kidnapped me!”

“I suppose I did but in my defence I had to think on my feet after your betrayal.” He snapped.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, prepared to call Steve and put up with the ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ if it meant he came and rescued you.

“Come on.” You muttered, flicking the screen in an attempt to make your phone pick up a signal.

You held it up in the air, eyes on the signal bar when your finally realised exactly what had just happened.

“Oh no.” You groaned.

Loki was stood in front of you with an extremely amused expression, the sunlight highlighting the smugness in his eyes. The sunlight from both of the suns. There were two suns in the sky.

“Have you finally caught up to the situation?” He asked.

“I am not in fucking Kansas anymore.” You whispered, horrified.

“Welcome to , Ciegrim-7, known as ‘the Distiller's Planet.’, Kitten.” Loki said.

You were on another planet. The dirt beneath your knees wasn’t Earth, the sky above you was on the other side of the universe. You were alone, in space, with the God of Mischief… who you’d just tried to screw over. You violently threw your useless phone at his smug face and he caught it easily without even blinking.

“Send me back!” You ordered.

“No.” He said simply.

You ground your teeth together in frustration and pushed off from the ground, not bothering to straighten your stance as you wrapped your arms around Loki’s waist and used your momentum to piledrive him into the ground.

“I’m not playing Mischief, send me back, right fucking now.” You snarled as you tried to wrap your hands around his throat.

“We always seem to end up in this position.” He chuckled, catching your wrists with ease.

You were in fact straddling him again, only this time you didn’t have a handy pair of magical cuffs to use on him.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You groaned, trying to tug your wrists out of his grip.

“It’s not what I’m doing to you that you should be worried about, think more about what I could do with you. What we could do together.” He suggested.

This was a bad situation, you needed to focus on that and not the fact that Loki’s body was firmer than you expected, or the way his slender fingers were locked tightly around your wrists, or the smirk on his face that said he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

“You and your team killed or contained my last batch of recruits so as recompense you will be helping me hire some new associates.” He said, breaking through your perfectly innocent internal musings.

“I’ll be doing what now?” You demanded.

“The Distillers Planet is one of the best places in the galaxies to find down on their luck cutthroats with no morals and empty pockets. I’m in need of new allies, you’re going to help me.” He said, sitting up so you were face to face.

“I’d say to give me one good reason why I would help you but I’m guessing you’re not going to send me home until I do?” You sighed.

“It is refreshing how smart you are.” He admitted.

“Smart enough to get the better of you almost twice, sure you wanna trust me Mischief?” You asked with a smug smirk.

“You don’t have a way of containing me anymore kitten and you’re all alone with me. You won’t survive without my help, never mind get home back to your probably frantic Captain.” He reminded you.

Steve… You couldn’t even imagine how he was going to react to Thor telling him Loki had taken you off world. You needed to get back to him so he could murder you for being so stupid.

“Fine. I’ll help you Mischief.” You sighed.

“Isn’t it better to be friends than enemies?” He asked.

“We aren’t friends.” You insisted.

“A claim that would have a little more bite to it if you weren’t comfortably sat on my lap.” He pointed out.

You looked down at the practically non-existent space between your chests. You truthfully hadn’t even really thought about the compromising permission you were in when he started talking, content to just sit there while you spoke.

“You have proven that you can hold your own against me in a fight, yet you knocked me to the ground, straddled me and then gave up. What am I to make of that?” He asked suggestively.

“That you have comfortable thighs.” You shrugged.

It was true, his lap was surprisingly comfy and he might be a psychotic dark god who had tried to take over your whole planet and had kidnapped you and brought you to an alien planet but you didn’t feel like you were in danger from him. Which was probably stupid of you and would definitely bite you on the ass.

Loki however looked perplexed by your answer as you stood up and brushed the dirt from your jeans. He had probably expected you to be embarrassed or to flirt back with him, not act casual about it but you took great pleasure in being unpredictable to the chaos maker.

~~~Meanwhile On Earth~~~

“Can’t you track her phone?” Clint demanded.

“It’s not meant to be taken off planet, I can’t track it when it’s god knows how many lightyears away!” Tony grumbled.

“What about your guy in Asgard, that Heimdall fella?” Sam asked a still sheepish looking Thor.

“Loki learned how to hide himself from Heimdall a long time ago, he can not help us.” Thor explained.

“I can’t track the Gamma signature on the Tesseract outside of our atmosphere.” Bruce sighed.

“So nobody can find them? Loki has her and we don’t have a clue where in the universe he’s taken her? That’s what your saying?” Steve said quietly from the back of the room.

His voice cut through the squabbling and rendered everybody silent. He had succinctly summed up the sheer hopelessness of the situation while he stared blankly at the wall.

“We will find them, we will bring her home.” Thor vowed.

“She shouldn’t be gone in the first place. What the hell were you thinking?” Bucky asked, frustration pouring off him in waves as he shot concerned side glances at Steve.

“The Lady believed she could convince Loki to reveal the Tesseract and she was right. We almost had him, her plan was a good one.” Thor argued.

“Can’t have been that good because not only did Loki escape with the Tesseract he took her! He took my…” Steve snapped, trailing of at the end of his sentence and swallowing thickly.

“Your what?” Natasha asked meaningfully.

Steve shook his head and stormed out of the room, his shoulder shaking with tense rage.

“Let him go.” Sam said softly to Thor before the blonde god could follow him.

“I will return her, I swear. Loki will not get away with this.” Thor said, more to himself than anyone else.

“Don’t blame yourself pointbreak, the kids got most of us wrapped around her little finger. She’s talked us into some stupid plans as well.” Tony said, clapping Thor on the shoulder.

“Like the time she convinced you to let her use the repulsors from your suit so she could make instant popcorn?” Sam sniggered.

Bucky quietly slipped from the room before anyone could notice him because he knew when it came to your stupid ideas, he was the worst offender. He followed after Steve before the team decided to relive some of his greatest hits. He had a pretty good idea as to where Steve had gone and he was right. He found Steve sat on the end of your bed, a picture frame clutched in his hands.

“We’ll bring her back. You know she’s probably panicking about how badly you’re going to ground her when she gets back.” Bucky said, leaning against the doorframe.

“I’m not going to ground her. She’s an adult and I’m not her father.” Steve scoffed.

“No? What you got there punk?” Bucky asked knowingly.

Steve turned the frame around so Bucky could see the picture in it. It was a picture Bucky knew well, he was the one who had taken it and it usually resided on your bedside cabinet. After your first ever successful mission as part of the team you had fallen asleep on the quinjet and he, Natasha and Tony had stifled their laughter when Steve paused in the middle of his proud verbal re-enactment of your actions as your head slumped down onto his shoulder. Steve had looked concerned for a brief moment, rearranging his position so you wouldn’t get a cramp in your neck and then proceeded to continue with his glowing praise in a whisper. Bucky had subtly snapped the picture of you sleeping peacefully with Steve was visibly glowing with pride and affection.

“Get up.”

“No.”

“You were supposed to be in the gym ten minutes ago.”

“Five more minutes.” You bartered, burrowing down into the covers.

“Kid, Hydra won’t give you five more minutes. I know you’re exhausted and I’ve been pushing you really hard but it’s for a reason. You need to be prepared to fight at a moments notice, no matter how tired you are.” Steve explained.

You groaned and finally emerged from the covers, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Good girl.” He praised, turning around to leave you to get ready when he spotted the photo on your bedside table.

You saw where he was looking and blushed slightly.

“I… Before this, before you, my life was pretty meaningless. Ordinary and boring and that was ok but then I met you and I thought I could be more but I was still scared. Nobody has ever taken a chance on me like you did and I like having a reminder there that someone believes in me, that I have somebody to make proud.” You whispered, too afraid to meet his eyes.

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed with his back to you. He fidgeted for a moment before he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and flipped it open, handing it to you. You slowly took it, your eyes getting embarrassingly damp when you saw a smaller version of the same photo, slotted between an old black and white photo of the beautiful Peggy Carter and a fairly recent picture of Bucky and Sam laughing at something off camera.

“I am proud of you, I have been ever since you made me promise to punch that doctor in the groin if you died. I worry all the time, I hate that you chose this path because it’s so dangerous but you knew that and you did it anyway. How could I not be proud of you?” He explained and you looked up to see him staring at you with a meaningful expression.

“I will never not be proud of you. I will be especially proud if you get up and help me and Buck run laps around Sam though.” He said with a shit eating grin.

“Aye Aye captain.”

“This is my fault Bucky. She was trying to get the tesseract because of me, to make me proud. I should have never let her near Loki.” Steve sighed.

“Can it Punk. You said it yourself, she’s an adult. She’s also an Avenger. Should she have told us what she was up to? Yes, but it was a good plan. Sam said Loki reacted strangely to her, she used that to her advantage to manipulate him. She didn’t learn that from you, she learned it from me and Nat but we aren’t wallowing in guilt. Because she made her own choices and she’ll learn from her mistakes like the rest of us. So lets just focus on getting her back alright?” Bucky said with authority, stepping into the role Steve usually occupied, taking charge of the situation.

“You’re right. Call T’Challa and see if Shuri can help. Have Natasha get a hold of Fury, I’m going to start digging through all Shields old files on the Tesseract. And I’ve changed my mind, she’s absolutely grounded when she gets back.”

~~~On Ciegrim-7~~~

Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes and settled for a long, loud sigh.

“Hurry up.” He snapped over his shoulder at you.

You ignored him, still standing at the top of the hill, awestruck. You knew you were on a different planet and Loki had already told you that that it was populated but seeing it was a completely different thing. The city not too far in the distance was so alien and so beautiful. It was a strange mixture of a medieval village and a futuristic city. Hundreds of thatched buildings mixed in with towering metal skyscrapers and factories. Smoke plumed over the sky above the city but it was brightly coloured, green smoke drifted upwards and mingling with a purple one. It was insane and beautiful.

“You’re forgiven.” You said, turning your eyes to Loki.

He looked taken aback and confused.

“For kidnapping me. If you hadn’t, I would have never seen this. I’m just a little human from Earth and I’m standing above an alien city. I… thank you.” You elaborated.

“This is nothing to gape at, just a filthy city filled with miscreants and workers. Of all the things in the universe I could show you that would take your breath away, this is insignificant.” He scoffed.

“Maybe to you Mischief, but I’m not a 1000 years old. I’m not numb to the beauty the universe has to offer yet.” You argued as you fell into step beside him, both of you making your way towards the wonderous city.

“I’m not numb to beauty. True beauty is rare and astonishing and I promise, I very much appreciate it when I see it.” Loki said softly.

It wasn’t often his voice took on that kind of tone and you looked over at him in surprise, curious about what someone like him would class as true beauty. His eyes were locked on yours and he blinked and looked away quickly.

“Every time I start to forget how small your race is I am reminded. The universe is more vast and amazing that your tiny mind could begin to comprehend.” He sneered.

“And it’s more beautiful than your jaded and cynical mind could begin to truly appreciate.” You rebutted.

“Would you like me to prove how thoroughly I can appreciate beauty, kitten?” He whispered lowly, his hand brushing over the small of your back.

“What I’d really like Mischief, is for you to explain how exactly you expect me to help you find a band of not so merry men to join you.” You said coldly, stepping away from his touch.

“I told you, the people here are down on their luck cutthroats. Not exactly pleasant company. I need you to make sure that while I am hiring mercenaries, another miscreant doesn’t try to put a knife in my back.” He explained with a shrug.

You stopped dead and glared at him. He sighed and turned around to see what the hold up was, raising an eyebrow at the palpable rage coming from you.

“You STOLE me and took me across the UNIVERSE because you needed a BODYGUARD????” You shrieked.

A/N - If you want please tell me what you thought of this chapter? What did you like? What didn’t you like? What do you want to see in the future? What do you think will happen?

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