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#like i would rather not have to get my arm chopped but i would rather a biopsy to cancer any day
a-sleepy-ginger · 4 months
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20/5/24
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Did well on practice run of the exam in that I managed to complete the essay in an hour
Baby potato
Ender toast
Got cuddles from my cat
#happiness diary#happiness diary: may 2024#had a hospital appointment today#guess whos getting her arm chopped up again ~#its only been a year since the mast biopsy#i mean to be fair the upcoming biopsy is the one i went about last year#they just looked at the very obvious weird mole and went nah thats normal this one on your back tho#and yeah i don't really know what that one looked like so it coulda looked super weird#but its situation wasnt as concerning as the arm mole#like its only been here for like 4 years amd its grown really big and weird#and i told that to a doctor cus they looked at it and said oh that looks like youve always had that mole#amd i said no its only been there since the last biopsy on the arm (which was not benign)#and her reply was an oh and she promptly moved on and sent me on my way#oh in response to a hey this mole has grown relly quick and i have a history of precancerous moles please consider#like i would rather not have to get my arm chopped but i would rather a biopsy to cancer any day#so you know#best case its just a weird mole cus i have a couple of those lile one looks like a fried egg#worst case its malignant and they overlooked it last year when i went in about it#the last time a doctor overlooked a mole it was malignant#it was lucky she went and got a second opinion#and even then they were both hmming and hawing about whether to remove it or not#luckily they decided to remove it but still#im doing my part so they should take me a bit more seriously#especially since i dont loke the look of it#last malignant moles its mostly been my family saying to go to the doctors#but this time i went of my own accord like a year ago#mmmm just feel like im rambling:((((#also the appointment is on a Wednesday after my exams so ive got 3 weeks of stress wednesday#im so gonna treat myself to ice cream
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worldlxvlys · 7 months
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Can we get a Matt using a vibrator on the reader infront of his brothers and he edges her but she finishes so he takes her homes and punishes her fic plsss.
vibe
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: smuttttt, use of vibrator in public, edging, orgasm denial, p in v, creampie, overstimulation, fingering, spanking, choking, degradation
a/n: hope u like <33
i looked at myself in the mirror, smoothing out the end of my dress.
i tilted my head to the side as matt wrapped his hands around my waist, burying his nose into my neck.
“you look so good, baby” he mumbled into my skin.
“you think so?” i asked, my eyes fluttering closed as he left kisses against my skin.
“matt, we’re gonna be late to dinner” i breathed out, but tilted my head farther to give him more access.
he chuckled at this, “seeing as how i’m everyone’s ride, they can wait” he spoke as his hands crept under my dress.
he moved my underwear to the side and inserted a finger into my entrance without warning.
“fuck, matt” i moaned out.
he used his free hand to cover my mouth while his other inserted another finger into me.
“stay quiet, baby” he whispered as he continued to fuck his fingers into me.
suddenly, his fingers were removed from me just as quickly as they had been inserted.
i whined into his hand as he reached into his pocket for something.
“just needed to stretch you out, my love” he said as his fingers were replaced with a cold object.
“oh my god” i moaned as my tight hole was stretched out.
“matt what- FUCK!” i cut myself off with a moan of suprise when i felt a strong vibration in my core.
i gripped his arm as matt brought his phone into view.
“ i have full control baby” he said.
it’s a vibrator that he can control on his phone.
fuck.
suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, followed by nick’s voice.
“can you guys hurry up? we’re hungry!”
deciding to tease me, matt suddenly switched the vibrator to the highest setting possible.
my body lurched forward as i brought my hand to my mouth, biting it.
i tried my hardest to suppress my moans as my entire body shook.
this shit is powerful.
“sorry, what was that nick?” matt yelled back, purposely stalling so nick would stay by the door longer.
matt smirked at me, watching me struggle to contain myself.
“just give us a few” i screamed out, willing nick to walk away.
“ok, chop chop!” he yelled back, before his footsteps retreated.
“well this is gonna be fun” matt spoke smugly, before turning the vibrator off.
“hurry up, baby. we’ve made them wait long enough” he raised his eyebrows tauntingly.
this sick fuck.
i just narrowed my eyes at him as i attempted to collect myself.
--
we were now sat at a booth in a local restaurant, matt and i seated next to each other and across from nick and chris.
matt hadn’t touched the controller for the vibrator since we left his room, and i honestly had forgotten about it completely.
we all looked over our menus, deciding what we wanted before the waitress came over.
as soon as it was my turn to order, i felt the low vibration inside of me.
i shakily inhaled, attempting to keep it together.
as soon as i opened my mouth to speak, however, the vibration intensified.
“can i” i cleared my throat, “ i-i have an iced tea?”
the waitress looked at me oddly, but nodded, nonetheless.
after i struggled through the rest of my order, the waitress collected the menus and walked away.
chris immediately spoke up, “you ok? you seem…off”
“yeah!” i blurted out, rather loudly.
his eyes widened at my sudden outburst, but he decided not to question it, “…ok” he replied.
i swallowed harshly as matt placed his hand on my thigh, making my dress ride up slightly.
i glared up at him as he looked at me with an evil glint in his eye.
he leaned closer to my ear and whispered, “ i promise if you cum, you’ll regret it. be a good girl and hold it. nod if you understand.”
i nodded lightly, and he immediately turned it up to full power.
i immediately gripped onto the edge of the table as my hips jerked forward under the table.
thankfully, chris and nick were too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice my reaction.
my underwear was drenched in my arousal and i bit my lip to stop myself from screaming out.
waves of pleasure shot throughout my entire body and i closed my eyes to hide the fact that they were rolling into the back of my head.
matt’s hand found its way under my dress and his fingers rubbed my clit through my panties.
“seems like you’re close, ma. you better not cum” he whispered as my body began to shake.
i quickly tapped my leg against the ground, making it look like i was shaking due to my leg bouncing up and down, rather than my boyfriend fucking me with a vibrator under the table.
“matt” i moaned under my breath, only loud enough for him to hear.
i was on the brink of an orgasm, when matt turned the vibrator off.
“fuck” i shakily sighed out.
“you ok?” nick asked, catching my sigh of disappointment.
“yeah, my head is just killing me” i answered, before turning to matt.
he looked at me innocently, as though he hadn’t just ruined my orgasm.
“you probably just need some food is all” he smiled before leaving a kiss to my forehead.
the majority of the dinner went like this, up until the food arrived.
matt teased me relentlessly, building up my pleasure and taking it away just before i got the chance to release.
each time, he waited longer and longer to halt the vibrations, trying to see how long i could hold out before breaking.
by this point, i didn’t care about anything other than finishing, i had completely lost my appetite for food. i was hungry for something else entirely.
once our food was placed in front of us, matt turned the vibrator onto the highest setting.
i placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing with all of my might.
tears pricked at the corner of my eyes as the toy pulsated against my sensitive walls, but i quickly blinked them away as i reached for my fork.
what i failed to realize, however, was that i wouldn’t be able to keep my fork steady due to the amount of shaking i was doing.
this caught the attention of both nick and chris.
“hey, are you sure you’re ok? you’re literally shaking” nick spoke up.
“o-oh, yeah. i think i’m just kinda anxious y-you know? lots of people in here” i spoke as a shiver ran down my spine at the intense amount of pleasure i was receiving, “plus, i’m just really hungry” i finished as i shoveled food into my mouth.
matt quickly threw his arm around me, rubbing my arm gently, “hey, it’s ok baby. i’m right here” he pretended to coax me, knowing damn well what the real problem was.
his hand moved to my back, before creeping its way down to my ass.
he gave it a squeeze, and i hid my face into his neck.
“don’t fucking do it” he whispered, knowing i was close.
“matt, i c-can’t hold it” i whispered into his ear.
“you can and you will” he whispered back.
my mouth hung open and my eyes rolled back as i dug my nails into his arm.
i tried not to give any indications of my incoming orgasm, but he knew my body too well to be fooled.
i gently bit the skin of his neck as i felt my juices leak out of me and into my panties.
my body continued to shake lightly against him as the powerful vibrations shot through my oversensitive pussy.
“did you just cum?” he asked in a chillingly low voice.
i lowly whimpered against his neck, not being able to form words as the effects of my orgasm still took over my body.
he gently pulled away from me and turned the vibrator off, and went back to eating his food.
for the rest of the dinner, he didn’t say a word to me, unless it had something to do with the conversation he held with his brothers.
when we got back home, we bid his brothers good night and he took me to his room without a single word.
once we got to his room, he closed and locked the door behind us.
“matt?” i asked as he pulled his shirt off.
“take off your clothes, right now” he spoke firmly, as he did the same to himself.
i quickly followed suit, until i was bare in front of him.
“what the fuck did i tell you in that restaurant?” he spoke as he turned me around, making me face away from him.
he ran his hand along my ass before giving it a firm slap.
i moaned out in surprise, “not to cum!” i spoke in response.
“oh, so you did hear me? you just didn’t feel like listening, huh?”
another slap.
“answer me.” he spoke before slapping me again.
“i’m sorry, i just couldn’t hold it” i whispered out.
he smacked my ass again, “speak up”
“i couldn’t hold it! i’m sorry, matt!” i yelled. at this point, i didn’t really care if his brothers heard me.
“hmm, you just wanna cum so badly, huh? ok. you wanna act like a cumslut? i’ll make you one”
i moaned at the thought of that.
“yeah? you like that? of course you do. my dirty girl” he pushed me onto the bed, making me land on my stomach.
“you gonna make me cum yourself or did you need the vibrator again?” i asked, testing his limits.
i shouldn’t have done that.
bang, bang, bang.
his headboard repeatedly slammed against his wall, his thrusts were sharp and hard.
my mouth hung open, spit dribbling out as he pounded into me from behind.
i lost count of the amount of times he had made me cum on his dick.
“you’re awfully quiet, ma. what’s wrong? did i fuck you speechless?” he asked as he slapped my ass.
he pulled out for a second, before turning me onto my back.
without missing a beat, he entered me again, making my back arch off of the bed.
“wanna see the face you make when i fuck every thought out of your brain”
my eyes were crossed at this point, makeup smudged, and my mouth stuck in an o-shape.
“look at you, you’re fucking ruined”
he slapped my tits, making my face scrunch up in pleasure.
his tatted arm reached up, and his hand wrapped around my throat.
“can a vibrator make you feel like this?” he growled out.
“no! no, only you matt!”
“you sure? cause if you want, i can stop. we’ll let your vibrator finish the job” he taunted.
“mmmmmm, no! i mean yes, i’m sure! i’m sure matt, oh my god” i babbled, as i dug my nails into his back.
“matt, i’m so close”
“yeah? me too, baby. c’mon, want you to cream all over my cock” he groaned.
i looked between us where our bodies met, the sight of his pleasure from the previous rounds being pushed into me sending me over the edge.
“fuck, fuck, fuck!” i screamed at the top of my lungs as i released on his dick, matt following right behind me.
he rode out our highs for a few seconds longer and pulled out of me.
my body laid limp as i attempted to regain my breathing.
“you ok?” matt asked me, placing a kiss on my forehead.
“fuck yes. are you ?” i asked in response.
“yeah” he breathed out with a smile on his face.
“let’s get you cleaned up” he said as he grabbed a clean washcloth from his bathroom.
while he cleaned us up, he whispered soft praises into my ear, reassuring me how good i was for him.
when he finished, he threw the dirty cloth into his hamper.
he gave me a shirt to wear and pulled on his boxers and a pair of sweats.
“i’ll be back, just gonna go grab some waters for us” he spoke gently, leaving a kiss on my cheek before exiting his room.
i checked my phone, seeing several missed messages.
nick <33
get that dick sisss
wait that’s literally my brother wtf
you two sick fucks are actually disgusting
chris <33
i hate you both
you’re so fucking loud
and the shaking at the dinner table ? you are some freaky fuckers
🌸🌸🌸🌸
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @vib3swithanuk @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @annelisseakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @lolll1029
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luveline · 8 months
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hi jadey would you do something with r peeling an orange for peter even though he’s perfectly capable of doing it for himself but she wants to do acts of service for him ☹️🫶
There are some bad boyfriends out there. Guys who’d rather argue, who won’t walk their girls to the door, who never help with the dishes. There are losers who expect things after they pay for dinner, and never say please. 
Peter Parker is the polar opposite of all those men. Peter Parker gets home from a long day at work and a short shift as his crime-fighting alter ego and makes you a hot chocolate without asking how many marshmallows you want. “Hello,” he says, kissing you behind the ear as he comes around you from behind, the hot chocolate set carefully next to your laptop. “Did you hear me come in, or are you ignoring me?” 
The former, for sure. You beam to yourself and twist in his hold to meet his eyes, brown and wide where they take you in. “Hello!” you say, not shouting, but certainly not whispering either. “I never hear you. You’re a cheater.” 
“You have ears,” he says. 
“And I choose not to use them.” 
“You okay?” He gives your shoulder a concerned rub. When you nod, it turns to a quicker, softer patting. “Okay. I’m gonna make dinner, yeah? I’m starving.” 
He’s strange in that he says ‘starving’ like he’s excited about the feeling. You nod and he nods back, tangible affection in the air between you before he presses his nose to your forehead and leaves. 
You’re just a girl. You finish what you’d been working on as quickly as you can and close your laptop, sipping at the hot chocolate he’d made you with a smirk. Your boyfriend loves you a lot. He’s handsome and tall and smart but he fucking loves you; Peter comes home from a long day hungry and makes you a drink. 
“My love.” You push open the kitchen door. 
“Yeah?” he asks. 
“I can make dinner.” 
“No, that’s fine. I’m making it.” 
“I can do it, Pete,” you say, putting your mug down on the counter. 
“I’m gonna do it,” he says, taking your hands, moving you out of the way of the fridge. His smile is as sugary as his eyes. “You have hot chocolate to drink. Before it’s cold chocolate.” 
“Boo.” You let him win reluctantly. He’s too strong, you argue to yourself smugly, he could totally take you in a fight. There’s never any winning with him. 
Peter turns the oven on and lights the stovetop, a frying pan on the heat, a square of butter melting in the centre. He cuts the veggies swiftly, asking question from over his shoulder. How was your day, babe? Did you eat enough? Did that headache come back? 
You lean on the counter and take a clementine from the fruit bowl. It was fine, you tell him, digging your fingers into the skin. Not much to say. I ate plenty. Headache stayed at home. The sharp citrus smell of torn pith hits the air as you peel the skin from the fruit's flesh. Then you spend a good five minutes taking off the stringy white bits as Peter fries your veggies with some leftover chicken from last night. 
“Here,” you say, breaking the clementine into pieces. 
“Oh, thank you,” he says, taking one from the well of your hand.
He eats it so fast you could argue he doesn’t taste it. 
“It’s for you, Peter,” you say, putting the rest of the clementine on the chopping board next to the carrot tops. “I’ll peel you another one. I know one’s not enough for you.” 
“Au contraire,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist, tugging you in, orange on his breath as you let him take your weight and move in. “You’re the only one for me.” 
“Terrible,” you murmur back. 
Peter’s grinning as he takes your face into his hand. He tips your head back, your heart fluttering just as much as it did the very first time he touched you like this, his eyes lit by a deep, unignorable sweetness for you. “Thank you,” he says. “You’re real nice to me, huh?” 
“Thank you for the hot chocolate.” 
“That wasn’t me. That was just sitting here when I got in.” 
You wrap your arm around his neck to close him in. “Sure it was.” 
“It was!” He kisses the corner of your mouth eagerly. Each word he says after is half smothered by the press of his lips on your cheek and the soft skin just below your eye as you laugh. “Wanna feed me as I stir? I think our dinner’s burning.” 
“If you keep kissing me, then yeah. I’ll peel every orange in that bowl for you.” 
Such a promise spurs another round of soft kisses. 
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princessbrunette · 8 months
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rafe and casual dominance is so funny because he’s kind of mean about it ??
coming back to his room after you eat, all smiles — having missed him in the short ten minutes you’d been in separate parts of the house. you approach him, all over him like usual and his large hands paw at your little sundress.
“why are you wet?” he furrows exasperatedly, clearly not feeling any kind of way about it as you were always up to something.
“um, i washed a spoon and it washed me back.” you pout, only really focused on clambering onto his lap.
“so use the dishwasher. s’not there for decoration, kid.” he helps you up, straddling his lap so you could wrap your arms around his neck. he plucks the thin material of your dress between his fingers. “and get this off, would you?”
if you’re cooking, he’s hovering around you scooping up your mess, in the end just taking over if you’re taking too long to chop something or open a container because he’d rather just do it himself than watch you struggle. he’s actually rather quiet about it, aside from the odd sigh or “what would you do without me, huh?”
and of course, if you’re a messy eater he’s gonna be stressed. cupping his hand beneath your mouth whilst you happily chew away at your lunch, the two of you sat at the country club. “you’re like a child, jesus.” he murmurs, but will still mop up your cheek with a napkin, asking under his breath how you managed to get pasta sauce on your forehead.
this has definitely been mentioned on this blog before, but if you get in rafes way, he will straight up bulldoze through you… storming in your direction and slotting his hands under your arms, lifting you to the side without breaking his stride. your legs swing momentarily in the air — nearly stumbling as you land and follow him with a pout.
“hey!” you whine petulantly at him treating you like an inanimate object.
“stay outta my way, baby.” he murmurs, barely giving a shit.
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theemporium · 3 months
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thank you to the anon who sent the request in!🫶🏽sorry that tumblr is glitching and won't let me answer the actual ask :(
series masterlist
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“Are you even qualified for this?” 
Luke turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I can make a couple of meals to get by,” he said. “You, somehow, burn pasta. I think it’s fair to say I am qualified enough to teach you how to make a meal or two.” 
“Ugh,” you groaned as you walked across the kitchen, slumping against him with your cheek pressed against his back. “Why can’t you just make me food and then we can go watch some Vampire Diaries?” 
“Because you just told me you have been surviving off cereal and that isn’t okay,” Luke retorted, reaching his arm back to pat your ass until you moved to stand next to him. “It’s just pasta. Not rocket science.” 
“Half your meals are prepared anyways,” you grumbled. 
“And yet I can still make pasta.” 
Your eyes narrowed slightly before you let out a long sigh. “Fine, go on then. Teach me what you know.” 
So, he did. He just didn’t realise how fucking stressful it would be.
“I—what are you doing?” 
You paused, looking at Luke with a shrug. “Cutting an onion.”
“You’re gonna cut your fingers off if you cut it like that,” Luke chastised with a frown, reaching around to shift your hands so your fingers weren’t so near the knife blade. 
“We can’t have that,” you hummed, amusement lacing your words. “You love my fingers wrapped around your—”
“Cherry,” Luke groaned, feeling his cheeks burning at your insinuation. Not that you were wrong. 
“Calm down, Luke, it’s just an onion. It’s gonna get chopped one way or another,” you assured him. 
“I’d rather your fingers weren’t included in that,” he murmured with a huff.
Five minutes. 
It took all of five minutes before chaos took over the kitchen and Luke felt his nerves hit a level that even hockey games didn’t compete with. The part of his brain that was always switched on during games felt like it was pulsing in his head, making sure he didn’t miss a single thing in the kitchen. 
“Okay, fine, you win,” Luke eventually gave in as his shoulders slumped in defeat. “You just…sit there and look pretty. I’ll finish cooking.” 
Your smile widened. “Aw, my own personal chef.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “You did this all on purpose, didn’t you?” 
“It’s fun seeing how much patience you have,” you answered with a shit-eating grin on your face. “I’m surprised you made it past the onion, to be honest.” 
“You’re gonna make me go grey before I’m twenty-one,” he muttered under his breath. 
“Ooh, I do like a silver fox.” 
“Cherry.” 
“Kidding. I’ll go turn the Vampire Diaries on.”
.
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comfortless · 6 months
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I already sent you an ask today so hiiii
(Alright so now I hopefully have your attention, imagine: ancient settling, mercenary könig is made prisoner and enslaved and reader, a cute noble girl, buys him to ☆have fun☆. He doesn't mind at all.)
Have a good day!
anon whoever you are… every message that you have sent has been like you putting a clawing animal in my brain. all of these concepts are so good. sorry it took me a bit to get around to this one. <:•)
captured mercenary! König x noblewoman! reader
content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. medieval au (so: gender role nonsense), slightly mean slightly pathetic König, very brief mentions of violence/beheading, masturbation.
“That one.”
You hear yourself speak without thought. Your voice is shy, almost. It’s unbecoming of your station to seem so meek… even as you eye the men lined up before you like cattle prepped for slaughter.
Prisoners, they were. All apart from the one you had chosen would be little more than toys for the executioner after what they’ve done: to think that such a little band of mercenaries would even be planning for a siege… ridiculous. Most of the men have already had their hair cut cleanly away from their necks in preparation for the blade that would be slicing past each vertebrae and layer of muscle to chop away their heads.
This one is saved only because he’s been stripped of his armors, and though his face is rather rugged… there’s strength beneath his skin and such a deep misery in his eyes it sets your chest ablaze with pity. He could be useful, a willing servant if you could only save him from what terrible thing haunts him.
Maybe it’s the old wounds that flare his skin with the raised flesh of scar tissue, perhaps it’s the harelip or the wild thing set between his thighs where he’s forced to kneel. It catches your eye, that last one…
The prisoner’s jaw sets when your finger does point his way, blue eyes narrow just a fraction as realization settles in the pit of his stomach. No freedom to be garnered here, no love, nothing but that blade he had intended to use against you sworn to you instead. If the giant spit at your feet then, it would be expected, welcomed almost with the way your chest roars with sympathy.
He only stares.
You pay off his captors with a few silver coins and watch as they lead him bound to your side. His arms are tied too tightly before him, muscles slack with exertion after trying to fight the ropes for what must have been hours. Whether he sees you as savior or something revolting remains unknown. He doesn’t speak, not even as a servant leads him into the back of your carriage and you step inside after him, holding up the middle of your gown as to not sully it with the dirt and old blood splattered over the stones layered for street.
When the horses begin to move you give the man a proper once over, hiding your smile beneath a handkerchief, free hand curled into the lap of your skirts. He’s not just tall and broad, but incredibly well endowed. Not just sad and downtrodden, but pissed, though the only tell remains his shaking fists. His gaze never meets yours for longer than a moment before it settles back to gaze at the passing tall grass and sheep prancing about the fields, but each time that it does… there is no denying the mixture of confusion, maybe even attraction upon his face.
Your home was something this giant had never had a taste of prior to you: a castle atop a hill, charming and stone with its high ramparts and blunt roof. You didn’t need his confirmation in words, though you do ask and get nothing in turn.
The carriage pulls you right through the gate and it is almost cute the way that this man’s eyes seem to wander as he takes it all in. There are other servants tending to the sheep and horses, the smell of fire and the chiming of blade meeting blade ringing out as men spar, there are cats to keep away pests and modest but cozy homes, a tavern, an inn all beyond the wall. A small city of your own: all for the perfect little noblewoman that you were.
The only thing that you lacked was the trained sword of a man to ensure your safety, and now you had that, too.
You explain to him his place here, the role that he would take for the price you paid as you both disembark from the wooden carriage. He would be fitted for armor donning your family’s crest come the morning, whipped into obedience should he dare raise a hand toward any one here. You even think to warn him of the executioner’s sloppy work, how he may even live with his head chopped only halfway off should you request it…. some horror you had heard one of the travelers speak of.
As the weeks pass, König does begin to settle immensely. His speech is disjointed and parsed, his mother tongue muddled with your own language in a way that is cute… terribly, horribly cute.
He’s intelligent and strong: spends much of his time out amongst the lower men aiding with the animals and teaching them the deft way he swings his blade. It is an art form in its own right, the way that he paints the air with swift strokes… For a woman to fawn over a man’s swordplay was absurd, but it was impossible not to enjoy when he taunts and jabs the way that he does.
He rarely wears that armor the blacksmith crafted for him, both a flattery and an insult. You don’t mind watching him best smaller men in solely his trousers, pressing their faces into the muck while he barks his insults to them in words they can not understand. To you, now, when he flashes the most beastly of grins in your direction and utters the words, “Verpiss dich.”
You aren’t even certain why you stand there rather than hissing out orders to have him taken away. Your stupid corset feels too tight, gown too small, and your chest aches. There's not been a thing you could do to have this man do more than simply tolerate you. He sleeps within his own room in the castle, eats his fill and then some, you talk to him and layer your words with praise. He has not once been punished for anything. Not even now.
“Come here,” you demand without thought, walking down the staircase to cross the yard with your hands balled into delicate fists at your sides.
Your giant only looks confused for a moment as he clambers off of the man he’s just wrestled to the earth and rights himself. His eyebrows raise, his nostrils flare… and then he laughs. At you like you’re the most puny of rabbits, hardly a threat. Your betters would have laughed too at just how fragile you sound, on the cusp of tears over what? Some ridiculous little crush on a captive soldier??
He eventually does as you ask, stomping over to stand before you- not kneel, he never knelt. If his height and stature were meant to intimidate… your god would have to forgive the thoughts that muddle your head then, like filthy water as you drink him in.
“Was…?”
So you explain to him as best you can just how insolent he’s being, how horribly he repays your kindness, how he would be dead on some shrouded mountain pass or have his body tossed into the river if not for you. You explain your heart out when tears come to your eyes and spring forth as your chittering continues, and you don’t even know if the moron can understand; he only stands there with the wildest grin on his face when he sees you beginning to sniffle and sob.
“Was?,” he demands again, blunt even as he takes your face into one of his large hands, turns your head to brush a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Why are you crying?”
“You need to learn your place!” And you know you’re being a hypocrite, that a proper lady should never allow a man to touch her like this, look at her the way that König does. You should call for a servant to have him dragged through the yard and whipped… or worse, but your voice only comes in a crestfallen whisper.
He shrugs those massive shoulders, rolls his neck and huffs a breath as he gazes down at you before his hand falls to his side and he merely walks away. That’s it.
Though you had the hopes that your warning had been taken seriously, the days following seem even worse.
König abandons his duties and takes up the most horrendous idea of courtship that he can muster. If courtship is even what it could be considered. It is more like a direct taunt, a jab now that he’s been made perfectly aware just how fragile the maiden he was sold to guard is.
He takes liberties once you’ve bedded down each night, your dresses stripped away to be replaced with a plain linen gown with nothing beneath: your only protection in the form of the wooden door between you two because König is no protector.
It always starts with the sound of spitting into his palm, then a drawn out sigh that rises to a near-animalistic groan. Sometimes he speaks, other times the soft, wet sounds rise in tempo until all that comes from his mouth are sharp hisses and whines.
This night proves to be the worst.
The wood creaks under his weight as he leans back against the door, stroking himself to the thought of you behind it. He makes it apparent when he breathes your name, low and shaky as you squeeze your eyes closed and pretend to not hear the words that follow.
“Scheiße… bet you’re tight,” he hisses between his depraved whimpers, the slick sounds increasing even as he rights himself to stand proper. You can almost hear the way he salivates, can almost imagine the way his jaw must fall slack and his eyes go dazed as he pleasures himself… you squeeze your thighs shut.
“Ja… you want it too, huh…” The bastard is most assuredly imagining you, knelt before him with the most helpless, reverent gaze as you plead for him. It should make you ill, yet it only stokes a fire in your belly, one that bridges between rage and need. “Ich will dich ficken…”
Your breath comes to a halt when your hand drifts beneath your thin gown, forcing yourself to listen as he brings himself to ruin in the halls as your finger presses to the spot that demands attention most of all. A fragile, shaking circle before your breath already begins to catch.
“Bitte…”
The brute sounds so helpless now, no longer the horrid thing that ordered you to “piss off” or scowled in your direction. He doesn’t know a thing about love… about how one should yearn for a maiden, only of spilling blood and seed. It’s only in the quiet of the night when the rest of the castle sleeps does he allow himself to be even this vulnerable… only his vulnerability seems even more terrifying.
His groans morph into pitiful sighs as he no doubt slows his motions, drawing out an impending orgasm in the hope that you will crawl to your door to let him in and fuck you rough on your bed.
“Just let me…”
Your thighs tremble as you weep between them in longing. The sooner it’s over the sooner you can close your eyes and drift back to sleep, no longer needing him the way he seems to need you now.
Your motions grow more heady, the patterns traced quicker and more deliberate as the heat rushes down further like the most vast wave of pure fire… When you tense, when your lips part to allow a low murmur of pleasure to slip from them, you’re met with laughter from the other side of the door.
“Ja… my lady… you do want it,” he hums as you draw your covers up and over your head in shame. You hadn’t been that loud, surely… but the way that he follows after, coming undone himself with a loud grunt as though it were some ridiculous competition…
“Let me fuck you next time,” he rasps, panting soft as he leans back. Depraved as he was, you were certain he was probably admiring the pearly paint he left along the stones. “That is my place, hm?”
870 notes · View notes
tomriddleslove · 8 months
Text
Pt 4 - Drunk words are sober thoughts.
✩ Theodore Nott x Reader
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Summary: The one where Pansy organises a dinner party, you’re on the run from Theo, and bad decisions are made. Alternatively: Uncomfortable awkward tension, then smut.
A/N: We aren’t out of the trenches yet. We’ve only dug ourselves deeper with this one.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN.
Please let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the tag list!
MDNI!
Tags: Smut (duh),Drunk sex, PIV, Hair pulling, praise.
Songs: Love survive - Michael Nau
Star Treatment - Arctic Monkeys
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The sun filters through the cracks in the blinds, casting an almost heavenly glow on your bed. The warmth was soothing, and you’d almost call it a very peaceful morning.
That is, of course, if you weren’t woken by Pansy yanking the covers off you, tossing them to the side.
You groan sleepily, rolling over as you try to shield your eyes.
“Oh come on! Merlin, you've been asleep for so long! Everyone else is up! I refuse to let you spend all holiday rotting in bed.” She nags, grabbing your arm as she tries to pull you up. You let your body go limp, the dead weight pulling you back onto the bed as you use your free hand to pull a pillow over your head.
“You know Pansy, have you ever considered my idea of a holiday is sleeping in all day?” You mumble and she tuts, grabbing the pillow from you.
“Nonsense. I’ll kill you if we don't make the most of this.”She admonishes, faffing around you like a mother hen as she walks around your shared room with Theodore (who notably wasn't there, his bed made.) She opens your closet and takes the liberty of choosing you an outfit as she flicks through your clothing, speaking again.
“We're going to celebrate the start of this beautiful Holiday I have so kindly provided us with. We’re making dinner and having a small dinner party. Nice clothes, naturally. Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theodore will be making the starters, and Draco, Blaise and I will be making the main, which means you’re in charge of dessert. Consider it a penalty for waking so late.” Pansy explained as she crouched down to sort through your other clothes.
You grumble, muttering childishly under your breath as you sit up, on the edge of your bed as you come to your senses.
“I'm putting poison in yours.” You half-joke, and she isn't phased as she tosses you a floral white sundress and a handful of jewellery. You dodge the assortment of gold sent towards you and you glare at her.
“There. You’ll have to change for dinner but this is good for now. We’re all downstairs, but I sent some of the boys to fetch the ingredients. Chop chop!” She calls out, as she descends down the stairs.
Pansy. She truly tested your patience.
You manage to drag yourself up from the warm confines of your bed as you head over to the bathroom, going to take a shower. You walk past Theodore's bed as you do so, and you see his copy of Little Women lying on his bedside table. Curiosity tugs at you.
It would be bad to take a peek, right? I mean, he did hand it to you that day in the library. Granted, he took it back right after, but surely that implied you could take a look.
You (rather weakly) justify your decision and pick up the book, thumbing through the pages as your eyes scan over the various annotations and underlined passages Theodore had analysed.
One in certain catches your attention. There, messily underlined, is the quote:
“Watch and pray, dear, never get tired of trying, and never think it is impossible to conquer your fault.”
Followed by “No. 4” scrawled in Theodore's handwriting. You frown, confusion etched on your face as you try to decipher what the four could possibly mean. You flick through the rest of the book, trying to spot any other instances.
“You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.”
No. 7
I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo, - couldn't help it, you've been so good to me, - I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me; now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer.
No. 5
You couldn't seem to find any rhyme or reason for this labelling. It was simply random parts of the text underlined every now and then with a number next to them, as though some sort of list. Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you're itching to look for more when the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs snaps you out of it. You quickly shut the book, placing it back down as you grab your dress and towel, dashing into the bathroom. You just manage to lock the bathroom door when you hear the door to your room click open, and you let out a small breath of relief. Your mind is working tirelessly, trying to decipher the cryptic annotations as you take a shower.
You finish off and get dressed in the bathroom, taking your time to avoid Theodore. By your luck, when you unlock the bathroom door and peer out the small gap, Theodore is not there, and you let out a small sigh as you step out.
You put on the jewellery Pansy set out for you and slip on some socks, combing through your wet hair as you dry it lightly. Satisfied with how you looked (you did feel rather pretty, in all honesty), you make your way downstairs.
The kitchen is empty, save for Blaise putting the groceries away into the fridge. You grin as you walk over to join him, his eyes flickering over to you as you walk in.
“Morning. You got your rest, didn't you?” He teases and you shoot him a mocking smile, rolling your eyes.
“Yeah yeah, make fun of me all you want.” You sigh as you reach for the second bag, helping him put everything away.
“Where is everyone else?” You ask.
“Pansy and Lorenzo went out to get drinks, and I'm pretty sure the rest found some sort of creek or something so I think they went out for a swim,” Blaise says and you hum, nodding.
Come to think of it, you had completely forgotten about the rather surprising development between Blaise and Pansy. You and Lorenzo had bet on it as well. Deciding to pay Pansy back the favour, you begin probing into their little dilemma.
“So Blaise, tell me. What's going on between you and Pansy?” You ask, and he chokes on the coffee he was sipping as he sets the cup down. You open one of the cupboards, storing away a packet of pasta as he looks at you.
“What do you mean?” He responded, and a small grin tugged at your lips.
“Oh come on, don't act all shy now. This whole flirting thing you have going on.” You say, vaguely motioning in his direction as you put some fruits in the fruit bowl resting on the kitchen island.
“There's nothing. Just friend.” He denies, and you turn to him, resting against the island.
“Sure. Just one thing? You're both stubborn fools. Don't let that prevent anything.” You advise, looking at him. You grab an apple, tossing it into the air before catching it as you walk past Blaise, patting him on the back.
“Right now, out. I need to start prepping the dessert.” You say, and for the first time in your life, you see Blaise ever so slightly red.
He playfully grins as he walks out, and you tie your damp hair up as you look through what the boys bought.
You settle on a classic after taking note of the copious amounts of cream cheese the boys had bought (You were reminded to never ever ask them to go shopping, and you'd be sure to remind Pansy the same.)
A salted caramel cheesecake. You decided to make the biscuit base yourself - it would serve as a good way to pass the time seeing as you had the whole day to yourself.
Before you begin cooking, you wander over to the living room. Your eyes settle on a collection of vinyl records in the corner, and you sift through the sleeves, settling on one that doesn't look immediately terrible.
You carefully place the vinyl onto the turntable, the soft crackle of the needle hitting the record filling the room. The sound of a smooth jazz melody starts playing, creating a cosy atmosphere in the kitchen. As the music envelops the space, you begin gathering the ingredients for the biscuit base.
You preheat the oven and begin making the biscuits, sifting flour into the bowl as you work. It's surprisingly relaxing, the villa is empty and you're left to your own devices, humming along to the music as you bake. Sure, you definitely weren't the cleanest baker. A simple biscuit recipe had left you with a white powder coating over the kitchen, stacks of bowls in the sink and somehow, flour on your clothes as well. You huff, dusting down your dress as you place the haphazardly shapen uncooked biscuits into the oven. It didn't matter whether they looked good or not - you'd be crushing them anyway.
It only takes about 15 minutes before the delicious aroma of vanilla fills the kitchen, You're admittedly pleased at just how good they smell, and you can only hope they taste as good as they smell.
Whilst those finish off, you begin making the actual filling of the cake. You reach for one of the bowls when a certain song begins playing, your ears perking up at the sound.
“This is my conquering song
played on a wave so strong
pulled the broke-down ride for far too long”
You lightly sing along to the lyrics, a small smile tugging on your lips as you do so. You had always imagined this song to be blissfully domestic, something you'd willingly play if you were to cook or bake, so the fact you selected it by chance made you oddly happy.
Sometimes it was the little things that count.
With a little pep in your step, you walk around the kitchen as you gather the ingredients. Liberated by the villa having no other occupants, your movements are freer, a small little (unnecessary) spin or a little break to sing along as you cook.
Now, it had been long established that you really did not have the best awareness of your surroundings. This continued to be the case now because you were sure you would have stopped immediately if you had seen Theodore leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, looking over at you.
Unfortunately for you, you did not notice him.
Theodore leans against the doorway, his eyes fixated on you. They always would be, he couldn't not look at you even if he tried to.
A fond smile is tugging at his lips, watching as you lightly sing along to the song. It's offkey, and your impromptu dance moves incorporated with your haphazard baking skills is laughable, but Theodore can only look at you and feel simultaneously so happy yet also so terrified. Terrified because he acknowledges how such a simple sight can't get that smile off his face, and the fact someone has the capability of doing that to him seems daunting. He was scared because, for a brief second, he imagined walking over and helping you. You'd look up at him with that smile of yours.
God, that smile.
You have that little impish look in your eyes, ready to poke fun at him. He does the same with you. The worst thing is if he hadn't fucked up so royally, you could have been doing that.
Instead, he pushes off the doorway to go and help you. The first part goes as expected, you see him and you yelp, spinning around. He knew your ears would turn red, as they usually did when you got embarrassed. Theodore knew you like that.
He knew you'd look at him akin to a deer caught in headlights because your mind would go blank for a second. Theodore knew you like that.
He also knew you well enough to know that, despite his own hopes of your once confused and mortified face breaking into a wide grin, it would instead fall and you would avert your eyes.
Theodore knew you like that.
He hated it.
“Oh. Hey.” You utter, clearing your throat. You berated yourself for always acting so obviously on edge when Theodore was near. He looks down at you with an indescribable look in his eyes before he speaks.
“Hey. Need help?” He asks, and you look around at the messy kitchen, before shaking your head.
You actually did, but you'd be damned if you had to spend more time with Theodore, alone. You'd either end up dead silent or stammering some embarrassing declaration. You couldn't tell which one would be worse.
“Alright.” He mused, looking down at you. He doesn't make any move to leave though, and you're hyper-aware of the fact that he is very close to you.
His hand comes up, cupping the side of your face gently as his thumb brushes against your cheekbone. His hand is there for a second too long, crossing the boundary of what it should have been. Again, it seemed as though everything you and Theodore did crossed that boundary.
“You had flour on your cheek,” he says, and you nod, drawing away your face. You turn around, praying to the gods above that they'd stop torturing you and make Theodore leave. You keep your back to him as you continue cooking, and he seems to finally leave, making you release a breath you didn't know you were holding.
You hasten your cooking after that and you're out of the kitchen in no less than 20 minutes with the cheesecake stored in the fridge as you make your way to Pansy’s room. You absolutely would not go back up to yours, as you were sure Theodore was there.
Exactly how long did you plan on running from him?
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Hours have passed lazing away on Pansy’s bed, bored out of your mind when she finally returns.
“Finally.” You sassed, sitting up as she raised a brow at you.
“Why are you waiting here?” She asks, and you shrug.
“Can I not miss my friend?” You quip and she eyes you, knowing there must be another reason. She chooses not to probe further, however, joining you on her bed.
“We ought to get ready. I did tell the boys to dress nicely, we’re dignified people.”She chided as she got up, walking over to her closet.
You giggle at her swift change of actions and lean back on her bed, looking over at Pansy.
Her love for micromanaging you often was a negative, but now it could very much be a huge positive.
“Pans… You always know just how to style me right. Can you run up to my room and choose a look for me? I'm hopeless.” You groan, putting your hand on your chin in an exaggerated display of hopelessness. Her eyes light up, as though she was a little kid playing dress up, and she nods.
“Finally, you've come to your senses! I know exactly what I'm getting, wait here.” She gasps, scampering upstairs. You grin, having successfully avoided Theodore once again.
(The answer to the previous question? You'd run from him for a very long time, seemingly.)
Despite her reassurances, Panys arrives a solid half an hour later, a scarlet lace dress clutched in her hands. An impulse buy, the dress was shorter than what you usually wore. It had a fitted bodice but a flowy skirt, though it only reached your upper thigh. The long sleeves that extended down into flowy bell sleeves had to be your favourite feature of it, alongside the bustier style bodice at the front. She grins as she passes over the dress, alongside a pair of black boots.
“Dressed nicely but not too fancy. Plus I've been dying to see you wear this, so up and change.” She demands, pushing you up. You grin lightly at her antics as you take the dress, disappearing into the bathroom to change. You run your hands down your body as you admire yourself in the mirror. A hell of a good impulse buy, the dress looked incredible. The low cut was far out of your comfort zone but boundaries were meant to be pushed, right?
(No, they were not.)
Pansy gasps as you step out, pulling you over as she admires the dress, words of praise leaving her lips.
“You look so good! Oh my god, wear this everywhere.” She gushes, and you smile shyly.
“Thanks, Pans. Really. And you look incredible too, like positively mouthwatering,” You say and she grins, doing a small twirl in her satin black dress. After styling your hair and doing some light makeup, you make your way over to the dining room, which had already been set up beautifully.
The table, adorned with a crisp white tablecloth, is set meticulously with polished silverware, crystal glasses, and porcelain plates. A centrepiece of fresh flowers in varying shades of red and white adds a touch of elegance, their fragrance mingling with the soft glow of candles placed strategically around the room.
Pansy's attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the setup. Delicate linen napkins, folded artfully, rest atop each plate. You begin to feel excited for the evening, walking over to the kitchen as you look for everyone else. Theodore, Lorenzo and Mattheo are all in the kitchen, sorting panicking over the starters as they rush around like headless chickens. You step in and Lorenzo spots you, a wide grin breaking out on his face.
“Wow wow wow. Look at who we have here.” Lorenzo says admiringly, calling over the attention of the other two boys. You grin, ironically doing a small little pose to shake away the awkwardness of their gazes on you.
“Stunning!” Mattheo announces, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he ruffles your hair. You groan with disdain as you jab him in the side.
“Ow!” Mattheo complains, letting go as he frowns, rubbing his side.
“The bloody devil, you are.” He mumbles, glaring at you, A small laugh escapes your lips.
You affectionately pat him on the cheek, before turning to Lorenzo.
“What do you need help with?” You ask them, and Lorenzo shakes his head.
“Nothing. You go and rest, we’ll come serve them soon.” He says, and you nod.
You've been avoiding Theodore's gaze the whole time you've been in here, but you stupidly can't resist looking up at him and instantly regret it when he staring at you so intently. His eyes meet yours and he seemingly snaps out of it, swallowing harshly.
You quickly walk back to the dining room.
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A solid 4 hours or so later, you're all lounging in the living room, stomachs full with what was a surprisingly good meal. Whilst the starters were good, Blaise, Pansy and Draco had really knocked it out of the park with the main, a mouthwateringly good risotto that you helped yourself twice to. The cheesecake seemed to be a crowd-pleaser though, with Draco having three slices.
With a glass of whiskey loosely held in your hand, you take a sip, leaning back into the couch. Whilst you tried to fit the aesthetic and sip some wine, you couldn't bear the taste and (truthfully) wanted to get drunk tonight.
It was a lazy and subdued atmosphere, and you didn't even notice Pansy, Blaise, Draco and Mattheo all retiring back to their rooms. You yawn as you get up, stumbling slightly (you had drunk quite a bit actually). You sleepily bid goodnight to the remaining two ( as vaguely as possible because god forbid you say Theodore's name) and make your way upstairs (in one piece.)
You walk into your room and kick off your boots, wandering over to your bed as you begin taking off your jewellery. You look up a mere few seconds later when Theodore walks in, seemingly equally as drunk as he looks at you. He shuts the door, yawning as he pulls off his knitted jumper, leaving him with his white t-shirt on. He throws his sweater somewhere to the side as he flops down onto his bed with a sigh, rummaging through his pockets as he produces a lighter. You can't help but openly stare at him as he does so, alcohol freeing you of what little inhibitions you had.
Something about the sight of Theodore laying on his bed, lazily smoking a cigarette with his slightly messy hair and those damn eyes….
You could see his muscles shift every time he brought the cigarette up to his lips, and you didn't realise smoking could be so erotic.
For some awfully stupid reason, really I mean, you had to question your own sanity, you get up, walking over to Theodore. You're alarmingly quiet as you approach him, and don't say a word as you stand there. His eyes flicker up to you, and suddenly you realise:
Alcohol + tension + two rash people
Is not a very good mix.
You reach down, plucking the cigarette from his fingers. Theodore observes you with a small smile, those sinful eyes of his boring into you as you take a drag, before passing the cigarette back to him.
“He was right,” Theodore says after a second, looking up at you, You tilt your head. If you were already slow at making these connections, the alcohol only made it worse.
“Hmm?” You hum.
“Mattheo. You did look stunning today.” Theodore says, voice low.
Instead of doing what you usually did (some awful combination of looking away, panicking or just remaining quiet), a lazy smirk tugs at your lips as you look down at Theodore.
“Yeah?” You question, and you're 100% sure you watch his eyes flicker down to your lips.
Theodore's eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and excitement flickering across his face as he absorbs your murmured words.
Tentatively, as though testing the waters, he sits up, back propped up against the headboard as he looks up at you. His hand tugs at the sleeve of your dress, pulling you down, His hand rests on the curve of your hip, massaging light circles, and you go dizzy at the feeling.
You make no effort to move.
Rather, in a bold surge of confidence that quite literally materialised from nowhere, you swing your leg over Theodore's lap, straddling him. His hands immediately find their place on your hips, as though they're meant to be there, and he's looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
You knew this was a bad idea, but the alcohol spoke prettier words than your rationale did.
“You certainly know how to make an impression.” He murmurs his fingers trailing lightly along your thigh. You resist the urge to shudder at his touch, goosebumps erupting on your skin as he touches you. You lean closer, admiring the features of his face as you speak, mere inches away from one another.
“Well, I had someone to impress.” You say. He lets out a small, wry laugh, though he's far too consumed with looking at you.
Close the gap. Do it.
You do.
With a surge of hunger, your hands fist his shirt, pulling him in. His hand cups the back of your head as he meets your lips in a passionate kiss, mouths melding together. He holds you tightly, his grip both possessive and comforting at the same time.
The bulge of his clothed cock presses against your wetness, grinding against you with a desperate need. A small meek escapes your lips and it’s as though Theodore immediately swallows the sound, tongue slipping into your mouth as you continue to make out. It’s simultaneously lazy yet desperate - hungry.
"Fuck," Theodore murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with desire. "You're driving me insane." He mutters, trailing open-mouth kisses down your jaw and neck. You moan, arching your back as you tilt your head back, giving him easier access. He wastes no time in sucking and kissing the delicate skin of your neck, tongue soothing the places he nips at you, your skin blossoming red and purple.
His hand trails down your body, his fingertips tracing along the swell of your breasts. A low groan escapes your lips, hands coming up to thread through his hair. You tug lightly and feel him smile against your neck. With deliberate slowness, he undoes the lace on the back of your dress as he continues to press sloppy kisses to your skin, undoing the top as he tugs it down. He pulls back, eyes hungrily taking in the sight.
He flips you over with alarming ease, pinning you down onto the mattress as he hovers above you, holding your hands down by the side of your head as he begins kissing down your neck to your breasts.
“Beautiful.” He murmurs, large hands coming up to cup one of them, the other holding your hands in place. He squeezes one of your nipples, pinching the bud lightly between his fingers as you gasp, arching off the bed. The sound is music to his ears, and he grins, his eyes remaining on you as he leans down and takes the other one into his mouth, tongue running over the sensitive bud as he pulls away, blowing lightly.
The contrast sends you into a haze, and a whimper escapes your lips. Theodore wants to devour the sound, he simply can’t get enough.
“Do you know how fucking long you’ve been on my mind?” He mutters, voice laced with desperation as he leans back down to kiss you, bulge grinding against your clothed cunt in a way that had you desperate for more. You can’t even formulate a response, because you’re all too consumed by Theodore. Everything about him.
He sits up slightly, hands resting on your thigh as he runs his hands up and down, his fingers disappearing under the hem of your dress.
You feel his fingers brush against the damp spot on your panties and swear that Theodore Nott will be the death of you.
Seemingly satisfied, a small smirk tugs at his lips, observing your reactions as he slowly pulls them down. He throws them to the side, and words cannot describe the look on his face as his eyes hungrily rake over you.
You needed him, every bone in your body ached with a visceral need for Theodore. Your hands come down to his belt, tugging at the buckle as you look over at Theodore, eyes glazed over as you were driven mad with your need for him.
He undoes his belt, the sound of the metal buckle clinking as he throws it onto your bed, unzipping his slacks. You can make out the bulge of his erection against his boxers and your heart skips a beat. You’re filled with this primal need to just have Theodore, you need as much of him as physically possible.
You tug his boxers down, freeing his strained erection from its confines. You swallow harshly at the sight of his cock, the tip glistening. You lean up to meet his lips in a kiss, your hands wrapping around his length as you give him a single jerk. You suddenly realise why Theodore was kissing you the way he was because the low groan that escaped Theodore's lips had you mad for more.
“Look at what you’ve done to me.” He murmurs, pushing you back onto the bed. He hiked the skirt of your dress up over your hips, eyes straying down as he spoke.
“You’ve unravelled every thread of control I have.” He says against your lips, teasingly running the head of his cock between your folds. A low moan escapes you, desperately seeking more friction.
“I’m going fucking crazy for you. I ache for you every second of the fucking day.” He mutters, and you pull back from the kiss, looking up at him.
“You have me now.” You respond.
His lips surge forward and meet yours in a kiss with renewed intensity, slowly thrusting into you.
You both let out a collective low groan as he slowly thrusts into you, and you can feel every inch of Theodore within, stretching you out so good you feel as though the simplest movement would split you open. A plethora of gasped curses escape your lips, but Theodore silences them instantly, coming down to kiss you deeply. He buried himself inside you fully, savouring the way you stretched to accommodate him, clenching tightly. He gives you a second to adjust before slowly pulling out. He rocks back in again, his moments slow and measured, but strained as though it’s taking every inch of self-restraint to not ravage you there and then.
“More. Don’t be nice.” You moan, and Theodores swears he won’t ever be the same again. One look at you, hair splayed out against the mattress, your back arched off the bed. It’s a sight he’d never forget.
“Don’t say shit like that. I’m already close to losing it.” He utters, voice strained as his hand grip your hips harshly, surely leaving imprints.
“Good. Ruin me.” You whisper, a fucked-out grin on your face.
Theodore groans, pulling out slightly before slamming back into you. You gasp, cursing as your hands grip Theodore's sheets. He sets a ruthless pace, fucking into you hard. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, though you’re sure it had to be muffled by the moans leaving your lips. It was only then that you were thankful for having a room all the way on the top floor. You both were too drunk to realise Muffliato did exist.
“God, you’re so fucking tight. Taking me so well. It’s like you were fucking made for my cock” Theodore groans, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hands come up, running along his back as you lean up (to the best of your ability) to meet him in a kiss.
Theodore's forehead presses against yours, breaths mingling as he shifts slightly, before thrusting back into you. You can feel every inch of his cock brush against your walls, and you can’t help the pathetic plethora of moans and whimpers escaping your lips when he brushes against that spot, stoking a fire in your stomach.
“Theodore- Fuck! ‘m gonna…” You babble, and he lazily smirks, slowing down slightly as one hand tangles in your hair, tugging at it lightly. He experimentally plays with it for a second before harshly tugging your hair, eliciting another moan that felt like it came from the depths of your body, the line of pain and pleasure blurred.
“Hmm? You’ll have to speak up.” He hums, teasing you with shallow, slow thrusts.
You let out a whimper at the loss of contact, frustration gnawing at you as you look up at Theodore.
“Fuck, stop being such a tease. Please just..” You whimper, trailing off and he tuts, his grip on your hair tightening slightly as he forces you to look up at him.
“You have to tell me what you want. I don’t speak in half sentences, sweetheart.” He says, voice laced with an almost animalistic pleasure.
You groan, nails digging into Theodore's back as some slight form of retaliation.
“I’m gonna cum- please.” You say, breathlessly, and a small smirk tugs at his lips, his hand loosening its vice-like grip from your hair as it trails down the side of your face, his thumb running along your bottom lip.
“Good girl. Since you asked so nicely,” He muses, no longer teasing you with shallow thrusts as he wastes no time slamming back into you, cock brushing against your cervix. You moan, eyes rolling back as the heat in your stomach rises rapidly; the sensation of Theodore fucking into you was pure perfection.
“Theo…” You moan, breathlessly. He responds to you moaning his name with a harsh snap of his hips, nails digging into your hips as he grabs them tightly.
“Say it again.” He grunts, his thumb coming down to rub harsh circles against your neglected clit, sending a surge of electricity through you.
“Mmm- Ah, Fuck- Theo-“ You moan, and you’re sure you would have done it without him even asking.
“You close? Gonna cum on my cock?” He groans, and you’re sure you’ve become mush because you can’t respond, can’t think, your mind and body reduced down to one simple thing.
Theodore. Theodore, Theodore, Theodore.
You teeter impossibly close to your climax, nails scratching down his back. The sheer ecstasy was too much, and you felt like you couldn’t handle it but also like you needed more and more.
His eyes take over you, as if even though you're both inebriated, he tried to commit every little detail to memory, the way you moaned, mascara streaked around those eyes of yours.
His thrusts grow more intense, fingers working their magic against your clit as he brings you to your release. His relentless thrusts push you close to the edge over and over again,, eliciting a strangled moan from your lips as you feel his thrusts become sloppier, indicating that he was close. With what little strength you have left you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer as his lips descend down onto you, ravishing you with messy kisses. It takes one last thrust for you to be sent hurtling over the edge, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as your orgasm crashes through your body with frightening force. Your walls clench around Theodore's cock, eliciting a low groan from him as he chases his own release, eyes never leaving yours.
It’s positively sinful, but he’s sure he’s never seen a prettier sight.
“Fuck-“ He grunts, his movements becoming erratic as you feel him twitch inside you. your legs don’t give in, though you’re surprised you have the strength as the rest of your body convulses with the sheer intensity of your orgasm.
“So fucking perfect.” He gasps, and with one final thrust, he stalls, burying himself deep inside you as he groans, hands momentarily tightening their grip on your hips before relaxing slightly. He utters your name with reverence like a sinful prayer, coming down to press lazy kisses to your lips as he releases deep inside you.
You reciprocate the kisses, and embarrassingly whimper at the loss of contact as Theodore pulls out of you, collapsing down next to you. You’re both breathless, panting as you come down from a high you've never experienced before. The post-orgasmic haze lingers over you, making you feel impossibly sleepy. Your eyes flicker over to Theodore and it’s evident that he feels the same. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the red spattering along his neck, not realising when you had done that.
In any other situation, you both wouldn’t have done this in the first place. But the effects of the alcohol had you both giving into temptation, and you didn’t fully comprehend just how badly you both had fucked up.
You roll over, pressing a teasing kiss to the hollow of his throat as he tugs the blankets over the two of you, an arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him. He rests his face in the crook between your neck and your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder with an arm wrapped around your waist. You let out a small sigh of contentment, wrapping an arm around him as his hand massages your back and side lightly, the tender feeling sending you further into that sleepy state. The sheets smell of Theodore, and you find yourself (as you often did) consumed by him.
You and Theodore both fall asleep in each other's arms, holding onto one another as the night passes by.
You had fucked up, truly.
If only you knew the consequences your actions would bring in the morning.
You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, for it was a known saying that drunk words are sober thoughts.
The same undeniably applied to actions too.
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@llpovi @camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8
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ma-yawntu · 3 months
Text
mine, all mine. v.
chapter five: bad idea
pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader
summary: you knew it was a bad idea to get closer to him... so why was it so hard to stay away?
word count: 3.2k
warnings: mentions of injury, blood, bruising, fluff
now playing... wait a minute! by willow
series masterlist
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The more you thought about your almost-kiss with Neteyam, the more you came to realise that it was probably for the best that nothing happened. Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly in the moment, too wrapped up in the rush of adrenaline you felt after punching Ao’nung’s friend in the face. You were frustrated and vulnerable and your brain seemed to turn to mush when it came to Neteyam; which bothered you a lot, because how could a boy occupy so much of your mind completely unimpeded?
You found your sister back in your family’s marui, silently thanking Eywa that your parents were still occupied with the little incident at the beach, likely still scolding your little brother for his lack of self-control. Tsireya sat on the ground in the middle of the marui, rather aggressively chopping vegetables to prepare for last meal later on. 
“Reya?” You called softly, tail swishing behind you anxiously. Tsireya looked up at you, eyes blown wide and you could read her thoughts in an instant. She opened her mouth slightly and you quickly brought your hands up as if surrendering. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“You were kissing him!” She whisper-shouted, ears pinning flat against her braids.
“We didn’t kiss, Tsireya,” you rolled your eyes, “you made sure of that.”
Tsireya sighed, dropping the knife with a soft clang and resting her palms on her folded knees. She looked up at you, her eyes wide with a mixture of slight hurt and curiosity, her hairless brows furrowed, “how could you not tell me?”
Your shoulders relaxed at her words, your eyes closing as you sighed shakily. You hadn’t uttered a word about your time with Neteyam to your sister while she talked your ear off about Lo’ak, to you it seemed pointless to mention; it would never happen between the two of you. She was your sister but it wasn’t that simple– Tsireya had freedom when it came to choosing who she would one day be mated with, she was allowed to look freely without the pressure of disappointing your parents. But not you– your life had been planned from the moment you were born, there was no way your parents or the village would allow you to pursue a forest Na’vi born from an ex-sky demon (as your mother put it), the notion was absolutely preposterous. 
“It is not that simple, Reya,” you breathed.
“I am your sister,” Tsireya stood up, crossing the room to grab your elbows gently. You avoided her gaze for a moment until she tugged on your arm, forcing you to look at her, “with me, everything should be simple.”
You breathed out slowly, lips forming a tight line, “it will not work– it cannot work between us… If mother and father find out…” You didn’t know how to put it into words to convey the uproar it would cause, but your sister understood, her shoulders dropping and her lips forming a tight line.
Tsireya paused for a moment before meeting your eyes again, “how do you know if you do not ask them?”
You wanted to laugh at that, you knew she was only trying to be optimistic but any optimism you had for your life had been squashed long ago, “you know what the answer will be, Reya.”
“Neteyam is hard-working and kind– he would have been the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya one day if it weren’t for the Sky People… There have been worse odds,” she shrugged. 
“You encourage me too much,” you scolded gently.
“It is my job,” she grinned.
You wrestled with her words for a while, occupying yourself with preparing fish for the last meal while Tsireya left to gather more herbs. You wanted to believe your sister with every ounce of your soul– believe that maybe, maybe, your parents would allow you to see Neteyam instead of forcing these horrendous meals with possible suitors down your throat. But deep down you knew it simply wasn’t possible– your parents wanted a Metkayina man for you, someone who knew the ways of the water and knew how to lead the people… anything other than that would be out of the question.
Your ears pressed flat against your hair at the sound of your father’s booming voice. Your father, mother and younger brother barging into the marui, your father’s hand wrapped around the base of Ao’nung’s kuru. 
“What was that?” Your father spat. Ao’nung’s body was slightly slouched, a bruise blooming just under his eye from where Lo’ak had swung on him. Your father let out a frustrated noise, “they are guests here, you do not cause trouble!”
Ao’nung didn’t answer and your mother hissed in annoyance before her eyes found you. You stood up almost instantly as she bounded toward you. Her warm hands found your face, moving your head around and pulling on your shoulders and arms, inspecting you for injuries.
“What were you thinking, maite?” she hissed, your eyes downcast as she spoke. “You do not encourage a fight!”
“I am sorry, mother,” you bit the inside of your cheek, knowing it simply wasn’t worth it to argue.
“Are you?” Ao’nung barked. You rolled your eyes as your parents whipped their heads around to look at their son. “You did not defend me.”
“You were being a skxawng,” you retorted.
“Maite!” your father yelled, silencing you in an instant. Your father eyed you for a moment longer before he let go of your brother, pushing him toward you, “fix him up.”
You wanted to scoff, instead you looked at your mother with a look that begged for her to fix your brother’s injuries instead of you. She looked at you and sighed, “we will speak of this later,” she said before glancing briefly at Ao’nung, she turned back to you with a frustrated sigh, “you will keep an eye on your brother.”
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“Ow!” Ao’nung hissed as you pressed a cloth to the graze on his cheek.
You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, “don’t be such a baby.” You flicked his forehead before continuing to work on the raw grazes along his skin. If you were honest, you weren’t being overly gentle with him like you were with Neteyam– mostly because you thought your brother was asking for it by being such a jerk to Lo’ak and Kiri.
“You’re not going to lecture me?” He questioned after a beat as you gathered some cooling balms to help ease the burning sensation of his wounds.
“Seems pointless,” you retorted, “you do not listen to me.”
“Rich coming from you of all people,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes.
You elected to ignore him and continue rubbing balms into his damaged skin. You remember the first time you did this for Ao’nung, he was barely seven years old and had scraped his knee on some coral while playing with some of the bigger kids. You had only just started your tsakarem training but you’d been patching up your own injured knees since you were younger than him. 
You remembered how he was trying to put on a brave face, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth as you gently washed away the sand and blood. You remembered how you held his hand as you applied a balm and dressing to his little knee and how you caught his little tears with your thumb and told him–
“It’s okay to cry when something hurts, Ao’nung.”
You often wondered what had changed in him as he got older, why the two of you butted heads once he reached his teenage years. At first, you were sure it was because the two of you were so different and you firmly believed he was arrogant and rude… But as you got older, the more you realised you butted heads so much because you were far too alike. 
“You should stay away from him,” Ao’nung muttered.
Your eyes glanced up at him and you were completely unreadable– a trait lovingly gifted to you by your mother. It drove your brother crazy how emotionally flat and withdrawn you could be. Your movements hesitated for a moment before you gathered more of the healing balm onto your finger, rubbing it into his graze. Your brother hissed at the pain and you rolled your eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m serious,” Ao’nung retorted. He knew you knew what– or rather who he was talking about. 
“It is none of your business.”
Ao’nung rolled his eyes, “you are my sister, that makes it my business.” You didn’t answer him because since when did he care what you did? You focused on rubbing oils into the bruise on the junction of his neck and shoulder instead of dignifying him with a response. Ao’nung watched your hardened expression and sighed, “Mother and father will not allow it–”
“Don’t you think I know that, Ao’nung?” You snapped, staring daggers at your brother. Ao’nung noticeably stiffened.
Your brother stared right back at you, his jaw clenching angrily. You didn’t need him telling you what a bad idea it was for you to be spending time with Neteyam– you already knew everything he was thinking because you’d already thought it yourself. 
You were pulled from your thoughts when someone cleared their throat, your ears perking up at the sound. You turned to the entrance of the healing marui, noticing Lo’ak standing there awkwardly.
“Lo’ak,” you nodded your head at him, praying to Eywa he didn’t catch on to what you and your brother were talking about. Lo’ak quickly curled his fingers at his forehead before gesturing to you. He too had bruises, not as many as Ao’nung but a few on his face with his knuckles sharing the same purple colour as yours. 
“Could I talk to Ao’nung?” Lo’ak asked, his jaw clenched. 
“Sure,” you sighed, putting your balms down beside you and shooting Ao’nung a warning look, “be nice,” you muttered through your teeth.
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“What is wrong?” Teyoa drawled. 
You had been upset, stuck in your own head about everything going on with Neteyam and you found yourself at the fisherman's marui helping Teyoa and a few of the other elders descale the fish from the most recent catch. You hadn’t realised you were rather aggressively descaling the fish in front of you, nicking your fingers on the sharp edge of the scales.
“Nothing,” you retorted. Teyoa shared a look with the other elders, trying to suppress a smile at your lame retort. 
“It does not seem like nothing,” Teyoa replied with an airy laugh. 
You didn’t respond, electing to fold the cuts of fish in thick palm leaves. Working with your hands helped you to calm down, helping to focus your mind on the task in front of you instead of fighting with yourself about moral dilemmas. Teyoa watched you from the corner of his eye, noticing your rather sloppy folding technique given your bubbling anger. 
“Have you been practising?” Teyoa asked, attempting to move the subject away from whatever was bothering you. 
You sighed, shoulders slouching at his question which was a resounding no. “I have not had time,” you sighed, dejected. 
“There is always time, you must make time,” Teyoa shrugged. You gave him an unimpressed look, lips pursed in annoyance. Teyoa chuckled heartily, “I think you have an opportunity.”
“How so?”
“You have some of the best archers in all of Pandora staying in your village… Perhaps you should seek assistance?” Teyoa suggested with a shit-eating grin. 
Your mind immediately blinked to asking Neteyam; embarrassingly quick you might add. You knew Neteyam was likely one of your only options; he would keep your little secret from your parents and your meddling brother. Teyoa was right, the Omatikaya were some of the best known archers in all of Pandora, it would be stupid of you to not seize the opportunity. But it also meant spending more time with Neteyam… Perhaps alone with Neteyam. 
“You hesitate,” Teyoa drawled, effortlessly peeling the skin of the fish back.
“I do not,” you retorted, offended. 
“Then you should go and ask,” Teyoa’s eyes flickered behind you. You turned your head, watching as Neteyam stood on the edge of the beach helping Tuk and Kiri searched for shells ankle-deep in the water. You felt a smile tug at your lips as Tuk held up a particularly pretty shell in front of Neteyam, watching as he enthusiastically applauded his youngest sister.
You dropped what you were doing, wordlessly leaving the fishermen’s marui to approach Neteyam and his sister’s at the beach, Teyoa grinning to himself as you left. You watched Neteyam and Tuk, suppressing a giggle at how Tuk kept giving handfuls of coloured shells to Neteyam while Kiri took her time inspecting every tiny shell she found.
“Whatcha guys doing?” You called softly, watching how Neteyam’s ears pricked up quickly at the sound of your voice. Tuk quickly snatched her pouch of shells from Neteyam’s hand and held it behind her back with a suspicious toothy grin. You quirked a brow at the youngest Sully, “what are you hiding, Tuk?”
“Nothing!” she quickly retorted, swaying side to side on the balls of her heels.
You rolled your eyes playfully, “you know, the best shells are in the shallows of the reef just out there,” you pointed toward the edge of the reef where you could easily see other young Metkayina children looking for shells. Tuk followed your finger, her eyes sparkling. “You’ll find the most colourful ones out there.”
Tuk’s little face lit up and she quickly snatched Kiri’s hand, “Kiri, come on!” She exclaimed as she started wading into the water, splashing water all over you, Neteyam and Kiri.
“Slow down, Tuk!” Kiri called, slightly irritated. With an annoyed groan and a roll of her eyes, she quickly made her way after her sister, leaving you and Neteyam standing ankle-deep in the water.
“Are there really shells out there?” Neteyam asked curiously, a hint of a smirk in his voice.
You turned to him with a slightly offended expression, “you think I would lie to a seven year old, forest boy?”
Neteyam held his hands up in surrender, “you’re right,” he chuckled. 
A beat of silence fell over the two of you and you suddenly became nervous– since the last time you were alone with Neteyam you almost– almost– kissed him. Neteyam could tell you had something on your mind by the way your tail swayed behind you a little faster than usual and how you anxiously fiddled with your hands. 
The two of you took a breath. 
“Was there something–”
“–Could I ask you something?”
The two of you pulled your mouths shut, a smile tugging at Neteyam’s lips as you tried to suppress a smile, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. Neteyam shifted closer, “what did you want to ask?”
You were getting cold feet being put on the spot, thinking of just pretending it never happened and returning to your mediocre life. But the way he was looking at you made you feel so warm and in the end– Neteyam wasn’t scary, he would never make fun of you.
You sighed, “I need to ask– I wanted to… Could you–” now you felt dumb, unable to get the simple question out. Neteyam listened to you intently, his gaze making your skin feel hot. You averted your eyes for a moment, clearing your throat. Neteyam began to laugh softly and you frowned, “don’t laugh at me,” you whined.
“I’m not, I’m not.”
“It kind of seems like you are,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking your hip out with an unimpressed frown. 
“No, it’s just–” Neteyam stopped himself, staring at you with such fondness for a moment, “you’re adorable.”
You felt your cheeks heat up at that and you became embarrassed, “shut up.”
Neteyam could only laugh and you rolled your eyes playfully turning on your heel to return to the village. Neteyam followed after you, too curious to let you go without knowing what it was you wanted to ask him, “hey, wait– didn’t you want to ask me something?”
“My better judgement tells me that what I wanted to ask is stupid and I’m better off not asking at all,” you called back, your tail swishing behind you and curls bouncing between your shoulder blades– Oh how Neteyam wanted to play with your hair– “But you’ve piqued my interest,” Neteyam retorted, still chasing after you as you moved rather quickly through the village toward the thick mangrove forest. 
“Consider me flattered,” you replied coyly, turning to walk backwards and shoot him a playful smile. 
Neteyam blindly followed you into the thick of the forest, truth be told he would have done whatever you told him to do no matter how ridiculous. He watched as you stood at the base of a rather tall tree, a small carving etched into the smooth bark. You reached up on your tiptoes, pulling a rather well-hidden heavy bow from twisting branches. He watched you, his tail flicking around curiously.
You held the weapon behind your back and looked up at him, “do not laugh.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m serious,” you pressed, gaze narrowing at him.
“I promise,” Neteyam crossed his heart in a similar manner that Tuk did when you first met her and you could only grin at the gesture. 
You sighed before bringing the bow in front of you, holding it close to your chest. You kicked around some leaves with your foot, unable to look him in the eye. You hummed in annoyance, “I want you to teach me.”
Neteyam’s eyes widened a fraction, his eyes glazing over the crafter bow in your hands. It definitely wasn’t the best he’d seen but also not the worst and considering Metkayina used spears almost exclusively– it was pretty good for a first try. 
“Teach you?”
You frowned, heart drumming in your chest, “I am okay but I could be better.”
Neteyam’s eyes met yours and the corners of his lips perked up in a smile, “why me?”
You rolled your eyes, getting the feeling he was only trying to flatter himself by putting you on the spot and making you nervous (it was working). “Because…”
Neteyam tilted his head, catching your eyes again and silently encouraging you to continue. 
You hissed in annoyance, “Because I trust you, okay? And I cannot have my parents knowing I do this or Eywa forbid my brother.”
“You trust me?” Neteyam grinned.
“Don’t make me regret it,” you retorted.
Neteyam chuckled softly, “you are lucky, I used to train the young hunters at High Camp before my family moved here.”
“Those poor children,” you gave an exaggerated frown.
“Hey,” Neteyam playfully scolded, “I was a good teacher.”
“I’m sure you were, pretty boy,” you retorted, hips swaying as you started making your way toward your secret little part of the beach, Neteyam hot on your tail.
“You think I’m pretty?” Neteyam questioned with a shit-eating grin.
You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, “I am teasing.”
“I feel like your teasing is always based in truth.”
“You are wrong.”
“I don’t think I believe you.”
“Are you going to teach me or not?”
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a/n: i know i've been gone forever but i'm back!!!
taglist: @s0urw00lf, @peqch-pie, @greatsstuffsposts, @lavzxx, @quaint-and-curious-being, @rivatar, @msblacklupin, @ineedmentalhelp123, @ravenxx88, @alicetweven
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kjupchurch-xx · 1 month
Text
Conflicting Feelings Part 7
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June 16th, 2024
It was the last day of filming Deadpool & Wolverine. Ryan and Hugh talked me into stealing my Deadpool suit from the set. Ryan is notorious for stealing his each movie. Hugh decided to be a decent human being and not participate in our antics. Filming was an exciting experience. I didn't participate in much of the press as I wasn't a main character, but my little extra part was fun to film. 
To celebrate the end of filming, Ryan and Blake suggested we go out to a wrap party that was hosted by Shawn Levy in Los Angeles. There would be a dance floor, fancy catering, and open bar and music. Hugh and I had now been dating for nine months. Things were going phenomenal and I'm finally seeing him without the mutton chops or old man beard. I loved fresh faced Hugh. With that being said, the press had a frenzy when it was confirmed that Hugh Jackman had a new love interest, especially one that's much younger than he is. 
I glanced at myself in the mirror, deciding to go casual for the party, like everyone else. I double checked my jeans and had on my favorite band t-shirt. I straightened my hair, applying black makeup to my eyes giving a smoky look. Hugh also went casual, with jeans and a polo. He came up behind me, kissing my cheek, "Almost ready, love?" He asked sweetly. 
I nodded, smiling at him through the mirror, "Whenever you are. I figured wearing the suit probably wasn't a good idea." I said chuckling. 
He giggled, "Probably not. I wish they would've let you be Wolverine's variant or even his girlfriend rather than seeing you as Deadpool, but you do look sexy in the suit." 
I giggled, spinning around to kiss him as I stood on my tip toes to reach his lips. "Let's go." 
We walked hand in hand out of Ryan and Blake's guest house, getting in the car where Ryan and Blake had been waiting on us. Ryan looked, sighing, "Finally. Can you two please stop fucking for like an hour so we can actually show up on time for once?" He jokingly said with a a straight face. 
I smirked, "Would it kill you to shut the fuck up sometimes?" 
He shook his head, pursing his lips in, "Actually no. I'm literally dead inside, so there's nothing left." 
Hugh laughed, "I don't see how Blake puts up with you, mate." 
Blake smiled, "It's in the contract. I've only got about 3 more years before I can marry Ryan Gosling." 
The car erupted in laughter as we drove to the event. The car ride was about 20 minutes long, thanks to the traffic. It was full of small talk, sarcastic comments and horrible singing. As we arrived to the party, we could hear the base from inside. Hugh grabbed my arm, leading me into the building. As we walked in, we were all greeted by the cast of the movie, along with a few other big name Hollywood celebs. 
We casually made small talk and rubbed shoulders with Dwayne Johnson, Zendaya, Zac Efron and a few others while snapping selfies for our Instagram accounts. Hugh and I weren't shy with PDA, but kept it classy. That is...until the drinks started. 
We were snuggled up to one another on the couch when Taylor Swift's Karma began blaring through the speakers. I jumped up grabbing Hugh's hand, "Come on baby,  I love this song!" I yelled over the music. 
He laughed at me, "Steady, you're drunk, beautiful." He said, getting up to join me on the dance floor as I sloppily yelled the words to the song, dancing with him as he danced along giggling at me. 
He pulled me into his arms, placing a kiss on my lips, "How much have you had to drink, love?" He asked, smirking down at me. 
I shrugged, "I dunno, baby. When you were with Dwayne, Zac and I took a few shots." I giggled, covering my mouth as if I'd just let the biggest secret in the world slip. 
He chuckled, "I can tell."
I smirked as my favorite part of the song came on, pointing at him while singing it horribly, "Karma is the guy on the screeeeen, coming straight home to meeeeee!" before pulling him into a sloppy kiss, which made him laugh against my lips, attempting to kiss me back. 
He picked me up bridal style, "Let's go sit down, silly." 
I giggled, screaming as he surprised me with lifting me up, "Are we getting more drinks, Hughy?" 
He shook his head, unable to stop laughing, "Absolutely not, love." 
"Aw, you're no fun." I fake pouted.
"You're really showing your age, big guy." Ryan came up behind us, saying sarcastically. 
"Mate, she's bloody tanked." Hugh responded, sitting me down on the chair. 
Ryan smirked, "Me too, girlfriend." he said, winking at me. 
Hugh shook his head at our antics, per usual. He'd have fun, but not too much fun. He was always the more responsible one in our friend group. 
I went to stand up again as another song started all to be met with the room beginning to spin. "Hugh, Ryan, I'm gonna, I think I'm gonna-" I stammered before projectile vomiting on the floor. 
"Party foul!" I heard Ryan and Zac drunkenly yell. 
I quickly wiped my mouth and darted towards the bathroom with Hugh fast behind me on my heels, pushing the door open for me as I ran to the nearest toilet and began puking again. 
"I am never drinking like this ever again." I said with a strained voice as he held my hair. 
Hugh chuckled, "It's alright, love. You did drink a lot. I know you had two whiskeys, then whatever shots you and Zac had."
I put my finger up towards him, "Goddamnit, I can fucking taste the Jagermeister again. Stop talking about the shots." I said, placing my head back down towards the toilet bowl trying to contain myself.
He held my hair and rubbed my back soothingly, "Do you need a water or anything?'
"I love you." I stammered, completely ignoring his question. 
He smiled, "I love you too, baby girl. Do you need anything?" He asked lovingly. 
"If she called you, would you go back to her?" I asked. 
He looked at me, furrowing his brows, "Who?" He asked. 
I narrowed my eyes, "Deb. The woman you were married to for 27 years." 
He looked at me for a moment, "Baby, Deb is gone. Her and I had a great go, but it didn't end well." 
I rolled my eyes, drunkenly starting to tear up, "But if she called, would you!?" I said, raising my voice. 
His voice was stern, "No, I wouldn't." Noticing the tears in my eyes, his voice softened, "I'm yours, sweetheart. I'm all yours. You have nothing to worry about, I promise." 
I sat back leaning my head against his chest as he ran his fingers through my now messy hair, "I'm holding your hair as you vomit into a toilet. I'm not going anywhere. I am so in love with you, beautiful. Deb's moved on, I wish her the best, but I've also moved on."
I looked up as if I were a small child asking an adult for the truth, "You swear?" I looked at him with sad eyes.
He nodded, kissing my forehead, "I swear. Let's go back to Ryan's and clean up." He said, standing, helping me to get my bearings back.   
As we walked through the area everyone was hanging out, I noticed the vomit had been cleaned up. Ryan and Zac ran up to me checking on me, as Hugh told them we were heading back so I could sober up, clean up and lay down. We said our goodbyes as Blake and Ryan joined us to head out. I rested my head on Hugh's lap in the backseat as we made the 15 minute commute back to Ryan and Blake's house. 
Once we made it back to their house, Hugh helped me into the house and up the stairs. He helped me shower, washing my hair and helping me with washing my body. He watched me as I brushed my teeth. "You good, love?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. 
I nodded, "I'm good. I've sobered up a bit now." I chuckled, setting the toothbrush back on the sink before gargling with mouthwash. 
Removing my towel, I changed into one of Hugh's t-shirts and some sweats. I saw him lay in bed, in his boxers as I made my way over, scooting into bed beside him. He opened his arms to me as I slid over, resting my head on his chest, placing my hand on his abdomen. 
"I never thought I'd be so happy to be back in Ryan Reynold's bed." I said sarcastically. 
He chuckled, "You feeling better?" 
I nodded, closing my eyes, "Much." I yawned, inhaling the scent of his body wash. 
He kissed my head, "Good. Get some sleep, baby." He smiled, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off. 
Days had gone by since we had our wrap party. That next morning, I'd woken up hungover as hell, still sick. I didn't think anything of it since I had drank so much, but as the days went on and the sickness continued, I started to grow anxious and extremely paranoid. We were now back in New York City, back home. I sub-rented my condo considering we spent months in LA and there was no point in continuing to pay rent somewhere I wasn't staying. Considering I had a tenant, Hugh told me to move into his house. 
Hugh was out on his morning bike ride as I stood in the bathroom staring at my phone. I was completely at a loss. I decided to pick up the phone and call Ryan. He and Blake were back home in New York, letting their rental in LA go as we'd wrapped filming. 
"What's up, baby child?" His voice yelled through the phone. 
Baby Child was something Ryan annoyingly called me considering I was the youngest of the group. I was 26, Blake was 36, Ryan was 47 and Hugh was 55, so I was 'Baby Child'. Cue the eye roll. 
I chuckled, "Are you with Hugh?" I asked. 
"Nope. He's not here." He simply said. "Why, what's up?" He asked, curiously. 
I sighed, "I've got something to tell you." 
His voice got serious, which was unlike him, "Is everything okay?" He asked, growing concerned. 
I took a deep breath, "I'm pregnant." 
He gasped, "What? You mean to tell me that old fucker's swimmers still swim?!" He exclaimed. 
I laughed, "That's seriously your reaction?" 
He chuckled, "Why do you not sound happy about this?" He asked. 
I shrugged, as I walked into the living room window that overlooked the city, "Because I'm not." I said with a sigh. 
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The Past That Haunts | Din Djarin
Din Djarin x fem!reader ✧ oneshot
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Summary: It's been months since you stowed away on the Mandalorian's ship, running from the ghosts of a past you'd rather forget. You shouldn't have fallen in love, you knew better than to get close, and now you have to pay the penance for your sins. Your past has come back to haunt, and you're his next bounty.
A/N: Really really proud of this one. Should have been studying, but was doing this lol so you all better enjoy. As always, requests are open and I'll get to them when I can because college is insane. Love you all dearly, hope you have a great day wherever you are 🤍
Warnings: violence, sexual themes and suggestive content, mentions of blood, fem!reader, angst, fluff, happy ending I promise (i only like hurting you a little bit, not enough to take away the happy ending)
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No one can run from their past forever.
Lies, secrets, sins—they all have a nasty habit of breaking through the thin soil they've been buried beneath and rearing their heads. What was left behind never stays gone, but rather skitters behind in waiting for the right moment to revive. The past haunts, it stays connected to the essence of a soul and refuses death itself until its dues have been paid.
No one can run from their past forever, not even after you'd almost forgotten it was lurking right there.
And yet, the reason you'd nearly forgotten was laying unconscious in the midst of a hunt he'd dragged you along on.
"Mando, if you're done dreaming of me I could use some backup!" You shout, barely avoiding the clawed fist of the Trandoshan mercenary before you. The bounty was stronger and deadlier than you, but you were faster.
As you danced and weaved around his blows, your eyes slipped to your Mandalorian still unconscious from where the Trandoshan had snuck up on the two of you. This job was supposed to be simple, but even lower grade mercenaries like the one fighting you were still deadly.
With a breath of frustration slipping your lips, your mind quickly raced to try and work out how to get out of this situation. Mando clearly would be no help and while he often punched his way out of problems, you didn't have that luxury. That's why within seconds you whirled around to the mercenary with a nervous smile on your lips.
"My friend, I believe we got off on the wrong foot." Your smile was charismatic as you extended your arms out in welcome to the target. The mercenary snarled at the comment, and you both glanced down to the foot he'd just regrown after Din had managed to chop it off.
You look back up at the reptilian male, a sheepish smile on your lips, "Bad choice of words"
He hissed at you and lunged again, slashing a knife you hadn't even seen him pull. A yelp left your mouth as you dodged the hit, desperately trying to be diplomatic.
"Look, the Mandalorian is out cold," You placated, ducking out of a knife swing by a hair's breadth, "He's the bounty hunter, not me. You and I, we can work something out."
This caught his attention, his yellow-orange eyes tracking your every breath, "You're not a hunter, but you're with the Mandalorian. You wouldn't betray him."
"He doesn't have to know," You reason, shoving every ounce of honey-coated deception you have into your tone, "Look at him! One hit from you and he's out like a light, big guy. There's no way he'll even remember this happened."
The Trandoshan's knife was lowering now, and your heart skipped a beat with hope. This was going to work, and when it did you were going to give Mando hell. You nearly smiled at the thought, but remembered where you were.
"What are your terms?" He hissed, and you take a calculated step towards him.
"I let you go free, and you let me leave with my life." You were getting nearer to the bounty, and he seemed to be so caught up in pondering your bargain that he missed your hand slip to the beskar knife Din had made for you a few months back.
"That seems acceptable," The bounty finally admits, slipping his knife back into its place and surveying you, "I'll-"
With a war cry, you launch yourself at the Trandoshan and jump onto his back, one arm around his neck and the other trying to plunge the beskar knife into his thick, scaled skin. He roars in response, spinning wildly and clawing up at you.
"Just die!" You pant, slashing and seeming to miss every swing.
Din was right, you really did suck at this whole combat thing. It's a good thing you were one hell of a thief.
"Y/N!"
It took more effort than you'd like to admit to keep the relief you felt from crashing over your entire form. Your eyes flicked up mid-spin from your perch on the Trandoshan's back to see the Mandalorian stumbling to his feet.
"Morning, sleepy head! Wanna join the fun?" You breathlessly call out, a tired smile on your lips.
The target takes advantage of your split attention and slices his razor-sharp claws through the tender flesh of your forearm. You clench your teeth to grit through the pain, "Not cool!"
It was mere seconds after the minor blow had been landed that the wild spinning and thrashing of the bounty finally stopped. Your dizzy mind righted to see a gloved hand grab the reptilian male and rip him to a stop.
You slide off his back, groaning to find your balance severely off-kilter. You fall on your ass just as Mando fires a shot at him, slicing it through the target's shoulder and making him roar in pain. His cry is cut off when Mando fires another blast into his skull, making the silence following the thud of the body deafening.
"Cold it is," Mando grunts, holstering the blaster.
The beskar helmet he wears immediately snaps to you, and you've been around him long enough to tell by his body language what he's feeling. Anger, worry, guilt.
Against your better judgement, your heart stutters as Din crouches down in front of you and reaches out for your bleeding arm. The lightning that crackles under your skin as his gloved hands tenderly lift your forearm makes your already dizzy mind spin. It takes the strength you've built up over the last few months to ignore the effect he has on you.
"You waited for a grand entrance, can't say I'm mad," You quip. His shoulders are tight as he keeps his gaze down on your arm.
"I should've seen him coming," Is all he replies, his voice that same sugar-sweet gravel that makes your inhibitions crumble.
"You know, I had it under control until I accidentally made a joke about the foot you chopped off." You laugh, the sound light in comparison to the biting pain, and Din shakes his head.
"That's not funny." He tried to sound convincing, but you could tell he was loosening up now that he'd seen your injury was just a scratch.
"It's a little funny," You fire back, a smile growing on your lips. He looks up at you and that damn mask makes your heart race and your mind wander.
It's the almost imperceptible breathy laugh he lets out, though, that makes you remember how far gone you are when it comes to him.
"I like it when you laugh." Your words are soft, and they're out before you can even think to stop them. Mando goes still before you, your arm still in his grasp. It's then that the position you're in, with him crouched before you, seems much more intimate than it did a few minutes ago.
You go still as one of his hands lifts to your face, and you nearly forget how to breath when he almost absentmindedly brushes a gloved-knuckle against a light bruise forming on your cheek from the fight. His fingers leave fire where they touch, and you can only dream about how it would feel if it were his skin and not his gloves.
He catches himself too quickly for your liking and stands, extending a hand down to you, "Come on, we've got a bounty to cash in."
You take his hand and let him help you to your feet, "I think I deserve a larger cut on this one. I did take him on one-on-one, you know."
"And nearly got yourself killed."
You glance up at him, your brows lifted in a challenge, "I saved your ass, didn't I?"
Din doesn't move back an inch, but rather stays towering over you and cocks his head in response, "Is that so?"
Your heart stumbles yet again. The air is thick with tension and unspoken attraction, and the way he's looking down at you isn't helping. Din is usually as close to void of emotion as he can be, save for his temper and inability to keep from sassing you. It's moments like this though, moments where he's almost playful, that make you remember just how powerful the hold he has on you is.
"Can't deny it this time, Mandalorian." You try to sound cool and calm like he always does, but fail miserably. He just hums before stepping back and breaking the tension-corded air between you.
"Help me get him to the Crest."
And you do, but as you work in the comfortable silence you've grown used to, you can't help but think about how lucky you are. This life, it may seem dangerous and hectic, but it's a blessing to you. It's everything to you. He's everything to you, he has been since the first few moments he found you. There was a sudden tightness in your chest, and you can't help but think of that day—the day your life would never be the same.
||| Months Prior
Your breaths were labored, your legs burned, your vision was blurred with sweat and tears.
You had nowhere to go, nothing in the bustling port town on Corrida could shield you from your fate. Panic clawed up your throat, so thick it nearly choked you.
Not like this, you pleaded to yourself, it can't end like this.
Mind-racing and heart-pounding, you swiftly and nimbly darted in and out of shops and between buildings. You danced in the shadows, became one of them. It was your greatest strength, your stealth, and even though it was what had gotten you into this mess, it was now your only chance at survival.
The day was turning into night, and as light dwindled your hope flared and grew. Once darkness settled over the town shrouded by mountains, your pursuers would lose every chance of finding you. All you had to do was find a way onto a ship and ride it out of this forsaken planet. Then, you'd be-
"Hey, you!"
The voice that rang out sent tendrils of fear to your very bones. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice for as long as you'd live. While there were still thoughts in your brain, that voice would haunt you. You ducked around the alleyway between two shops, your heart racing at a painful speed as you chanced a look in the direction of your old Master.
"You seen a girl running through here?" He snarled, his tone boiling with anger that he thinly kept composed under his Imperial getup. The Empire was gone, but unfortunately the New Republic could not monitor every planet in every system when it fell. You just had the supreme misfortune of dwelling in the town of a group of Imperial officers that refused to back down.
"There's plenty of girls here, be more specific," The shopkeeper he'd asked grunted, going about his work.
Your Master spoke to him for a few more minutes before you forced yourself to slink away, melting into the shadows growing longer as the sky grew darker. As you snuck around the back of the buildings, you heard your Master's voice rise in volume.
"Anyone who finds an indentured woman in a green cloak is to bring her to me, immediately."
You froze, looking down at the cloak around your shoulders. With a pounding heart you shucked it off, cursing the Imperial scum for the clever tactic. Now if he saw you sneaking around, you'd have nothing to hide your face.
Indentured. You bristled at the word, anger flooding your mind. What a pretty way to say enslaved.
You had to get out of here and fast. The Empire might be gone, but this town was still pinned under their thumb. These people wouldn't think twice before turning you over. The satchel that was slung across your body was heavy with the reason why you couldn't let that happen.
With silent steps, you made it all the way to the ship port. There weren't many options present, and the choice would be paramount. Pick the wrong ship, and you'd be cast into the streets for your old Master and his troopers to find you and the item you stole from him that was nestled in the bag you bore.
As you surveyed the ship port, you noted three choices. First, the light freighter that sat loading its cargo near the middle of the port—too busy, too central. Second, the old Razor Crest sitting nearest you—low profile, but you could've sworn you'd just seen a Mandalorian walk into it. That was too risky, too dangerous. Third, and most appealing, the CR90 Corvette—no one dangerous was entering, enough cargo to hide in, it was perfect.
Making your mind, you begin to dart across the ship port, dodging past the Razor Crest and towards the Corvette. It would work, it would be perf-
You skidded to a stop so fast that you nearly tripped and fell. Walking up to the Corvette was your Master, and he'd just begun talking to the owner. Your eyes widened as he motioned to the three storm troopers with him, and they began to search the ship.
This wasn't good, you weren't going to make if off of this planet.
Your eyes wildly searched the port and landed on the Razor Crest just as its back hatch began to close. It wasn't ideal, but it was taking off soon, and that made it your only choice. Holding your breath, you surged towards the beat up ship and vaulted into the space between the closing hatch and the ship's interior. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian you'd seen was in the cockpit taking off when you clanged and rolled into the ship's belly. The engines started and the ship lifted, and before you could comprehend it, you were leaving Corrida.
You escaped. You stole from the Imperial guard Finon Kane, the man who'd enslaved and tortured you and hundreds of others, and escaped. You were free.
A laugh of pure and raw joy bubbled out of your chest as you clutched your satchel close to your chest. You'd done it, you'd actually done it. The other slaves had cheered you on as you made your grand escape, had laughed and whooped with you as you bested Master Kane. And now, you were free.
You barely felt the ship slip out of the atmosphere of the planet as you shoved to your feet. Now was the tricky part—you had to hide from the Mandalorian until he docked somewhere else, and then you could-
A strong, gloved hand closed around your shoulder and whirled you around with such strength and speed that you could only yelp as you were pressed into the cool metal of the Crest's walls. One massive arm barred your throat, and the other held a blaster to your head. The Mando's grip was strong and he oozed confidence, but he was silent.
Silent as death, silent as the reaper in beskar armor.
His shining helmet tilted at you, and your heart dropped to your feet. He hadn't killed you yet, he just kept looking at you, inspecting you, almost testing to see if you were a threat or not. So, he wasn't a cold-blooded killer then. There was a heart, whether it was flesh or beskar, somewhere underneath his armor. You needed to exploit it, and fast.
A shaking smile made it onto your lips and you tried your best to seem as calm as he was, "A Mandalorian, and one with fine armor too. What a pleasant surprise."
"What are you doing on my ship?" Was all he gritted out, his tone rough and smooth all at once. A walking and living dichotomy that, against your better judgement, made your heart trip over itself.
"Is this your ship?" You noted, humming to yourself as your pulse thrummed, "I must have boarded without even looking, it seems so much like mine that I-"
The blaster moved closer to your skin and your words died, your eyes widening as the Mandalorian stared you down through his mask, "The truth, stowaway."
It wasn't a question, but a demand. Flattery clearly wasn't getting you anywhere, so you needed to find a different way.
"I need safe passage," You honestly announced, your charming, hopeful smile still on your lips to persuade him you're not a threat, "And clearly, Mando, you need some help around here. I could be of service to you, I've got a great many skills!"
"Can you hunt?"
He didn't mean animals. That was when you realized this Mandalorian was a bounty hunter, and you cursed every star for crossing your fate into bad luck.
"No, but I-"
"Can you fight?" He interrupted, his voice a calm and collected drill.
"Well, not particularly, but if you'd just-"
"Can you fix the ship?"
You were getting frustrated now.
"Never really been good with mechanics, but-"
"Then you are of no use to me." He decided, letting go of you and holstering his blaster. He stepped back and shuffled through one wall of his ship, looking for something, "I'll dock at the next inhabited planet and turn you over to-"
It was his turn to be cut off, but not by you. Instead, the whooshing of a cabin door opening followed by a child's giggle makes his words die out. Surprise skittered through you at the site. A child. This large, rough Mandalorian Bounty Hunter was taking care of a...a child?
As he stormed over to the little thing, he muttered soft chiding to it before picking it up gently in the hands that just held your life. The child nestled into the crook of his arm, batting its massive eyes up at him lovingly.
And, against every warning and better judgement, your heart, your very soul, melted at the site.
"You're a bounty hunter with a kid?" You asked boldly, stepping forward towards the beskar-coated hunter that turned sharply around to you, the kid still in his strong arms, "And what do you do with it when you're on jobs?"
"He stays here or comes with me," he rasps out simply. You let out a short, unbelieving laugh.
"And you say you don't need my help," You chide, being bolder than you should be and stepping up to the pair. The Mandalorian freezes as you brazenly pluck the child out of his arms, cradling the little one into your torso.
The pure shock of what you've just done makes Mando stand awkwardly, unmoving and sputtering for a moment as he tries to respond. Whatever he's saying keeps dying on his tongue as he watches the child giggle and play with your hair, nuzzling into you the way he was just doing to him.
"I can take care of him while you're on hunts," You reason, looking up at the Mando with a bright, unwavering smile, "And, as I was going to say before you rudely interrupted,"
This shocked the bounty hunter even more. The audacity of this woman, who could neither kill nor fight, to be so bold with him? It struck him into an astonished silence.
"I may not have any of the skills you listed," You continued, looking up at the Mandalorian with his child in your arms, "But I'm amazing at sneaking into places. I'm not a killer, but I'm sure a bounty hunter like yourself could use a good thief."
He crosses his arms at this, cocking his head at you in a way that makes you imagine his face with risen brows and a taunting gaze, "Obviously the sneaking part isn't your strong suit."
"Hey, I got in here, didn't I?" You challenged, holding his gaze before looking down at cooing at the child, "Besides, your little one likes me, don't you sweetheart?"
"Could you give him back, please?"
"What was that?" You hummed, tilting your ear towards the child before smiling at it once more, "I couldn't agree more. Your father does need to lighten up."
The Mandalorian sputtered at her words, not understanding how a little thing like you could have rendered him completely speechless and without knowledge of what to do next. No hunt he's ever been on has ever done that to this extent, and yet here you were. A stowaway that, as much as Din wanted to ignore, needed help. You tried to hide it behind your smiles and remarks, but he could see the desperation in your eyes, the worry in your soul.
You needed help, and damn it all he was going to give it to you.
Din cursed himself beneath his breath, shaking his head at you. If the Guild members knew what a softie he was under this armor he'd lose his entire reputation. He could slaughter targets without faltering, but throw in a child and a smartass stowaway and his spine leaves him.
"I'm not his father," The Mandalorian rebuts, but you can hear the lie in his tone, "I'm just looking out for him"
You scoffed at that, "Leaving him alone, taking him on dangerous hunts? Not things a good father would do."
"Hey I'm a great father!" His temper snapped, and you smiled smugly. You glanced up at him, tilting your head the way he'd just done to you.
"So you are his father?" You challenged.
The Mandalorian started and stopped three different sentences before he let out a defeated grunt and walked towards a far wall of the Crest. He slammed his hand onto a button and the door whizzed open to reveal a spare bedroom with three cots. A hope-filled, bright smile lit up your lips.
He was going to let you stay.
"You can sleep here. You'll earn your keep how you promised, but what I say goes, is that clear?" He ordered, staring you down. Your smile widened, and you noted to your memory the soft side the Mandalorian had that you'd bet only a few people had seen.
"I can't thank you enough, Mando," You responded, and he could see that you meant it. You handed him the child and moved to set your satchel, all that was left of your life, in the room he'd opened.
"Don't mention it." His voice of gravel ordered, and you heard him walking away. You couldn't ignore the sense of safety that he radiated, especially because you hadn't felt safe like this in years.
Thinking he was gone, your smile dropped as you sank onto the cot and rested your head against the cool metal.
"I'm free," You whispered, almost to ensure it was real. A genuine, small smile worked its way onto your lips and into your soul, "I'm free."
The Mandalorian watched from the other side of the ship, and he couldn't help the way his heart tugged. He didn't understand why, but Din knew he cared more than he should have to make sure you stayed free, to make sure you'd smile like that again.
|||
You'd only meant to stay for a little while until you had enough credits and resources to make it on your own. And yet, here you were. It had been months and you still hadn't found a way to leave Din and the child.
He had found ways to make you stay. When he got used to your presence, he found that jobs often went easier with your expertise in stealth. The two of you became a team, and with the child it almost felt like...
Your mind stopped at the word that wanted to come next. Family. You hadn't had one in years, and it scared you because you knew you could do this forever. You'd begun to fall in love with Din Djarin the moment he'd picked up the child for the first time, and by now you were properly whipped.
Once the two of you had the bounty secured away, Din turned to you without leaving room for argument, "Sit down."
You did as he instructed, settling down on the cot in your room as Mando grabbed a med kit and walked back over to you. Even as he sat on the cot across from you, his massive frame shadowed your smaller one.
"Give me your arm," He said quietly, his voice sendings shivers racing down your spine that only worsened when he took your skin into his gloved hands.
He inspected it for a moment before humming, "It's not deep, it should heal quickly without bacta."
You were silent as he worked, something out of the ordinary for you and he knew it. As his skilled hands worked quickly, his modulated voice reached out to you, breaking the silence.
"What is it?"
You knew what he meant. Knowing that he could see through every lie you threw at him, you sighed and settled for the truth.
"Today...scared me."
The words surprised your Mandalorian as he went still before you, his hands faltering with the bandage for only a moment before he continued wrapping your cut.
"The hunt did?" He prodded. You shook your head.
"Seeing you lying there..." You began, and shook your head, the image stuck in your brain, "That's going to haunt me for a while, Din."
He tucked the end of the bandage in, and you kept your eyes down on his work. You couldn't stand to meet his masked-gaze, he'd see the emotion working its way through your eyes. One of his gloved hands hooks under your chin and tilts your head up softly to meet his gaze.
"You saved my life today," He said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your skin, "As much as I hate to admit it."
His words had their desired affect and you laughed softly, shaking your head at him as your soul lightened. Din was right, he was alive and well and it had a lot to do with you. The thought calmed you, but you couldn't hide the way it still scared the very depths of you.
"I should be apologizing to you," Mando started, but you cut him off.
"Din-"
"No, shut your mouth and listen to me for once." His voice was sharp, and it made you go silent with surprise. There wasn't cruelty or anger in that tone. Instead, you found it wavering with what you could have sworn was fear.
The Mandalorian moved his hand from your chin to hold more of your jaw, and with the movement you could hardly think straight, "I almost got you killed today. Had I woken up seconds later, you would have been that Trandoshan's target and not the other way around."
The words made your mouth go dry, and you tried to protest them but Din held you jaw with a gentle firmness and shook his head. It wasn't often that he preferred to do the talking, but you could see how bad he needed you to hear him.
"I'm sorry, cyar'ika. I'm so sorry"
You were stunned into silence. You'd never heard him say any of those words before, not sorry and certainly not cyar'ika. You knew what it meant, and it made your head spin. Slowly, so not to startle him, you lift your hands and rest them on the cool beskar of his helmet. He goes still and you can't help but smile softly at him
"There is nothing to forgive, Din."
His hand drops from your jaw and somehow finds its way absently resting on your waist. The touch sends fire shooting through you, and you have to blink a few times to focus.
"Besides, if I could count the number of times I almost got you killed..." You sentence ended naturally as you laughed softly, and he joined in. The sound was honey to your soul and it made you remember that you'd rather be here than anywhere else in the galaxy.
Much to your disappointment, he pulled away and stood surveying you through his mask, "I should go check on the kid. Get some rest."
And then he was gone, and you spent the rest of the night wondering what in the stars you were going to do.
|||
You docked at Tatooine soon after, the ship in dire need of a tune up.
The last few days had been strange. You'd thought the near death encounter would continue to keep the two of you close like it had that day in your room, but he seemed to be ignoring you at any and all costs. He only spoke to you when he needed to and even then it was clipped and short.
By the time you saw Peli, you were dying to slug him over the head with one of her wrenches.
"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite band of three," The mechanic greets, jogging out to meet you with a smile, "Where's my baby?"
Mirroring her smile, you handed the kid over to Peli who eagerly tucked him close, stroking his long ears and cooing to him softly, "I only tolerate you two for him, you know."
The two of you knew better.
"Can you watch over him for a few hours? We have business here." Mando gruffly stated. You furrowed your brows and glanced over at him.
Business? He hadn't mentioned that to you. Then again, he barely mentioned anything to you these last few days.
"Go, go," Peli shooed, already turning around and walking with the kid back to her lodgings, "He and I will make sure the Crest is all fixed up, won't we precious thing? He loves his favorite aunt, doesn't he?"
Aunt, which would make you and Mando his...You brushed away the thought, not letting it bring you hope or joy. You smiled once more at the mechanic before following Mando as he quickly exited the hangar.
"What business do we have?" You asked. He almost seemed like he was not going to reply before he did so without even glancing at you.
"You'll see."
Your patience was waning, but you went along with it nonetheless. You hadn't been walking long on the desert planet before Mando ushered you in a bar nearby. The business ended up being nothing more than a job hunt, leaving you confused as to why the Mandalorian was being so stand-offish. He'd collected a new round of pucks and then left you to spend your evening alone however you pleased. You didn't know where he went and you didn't quite care. He was being an asshole to you, so you could return the favor.
You returned rather quickly to the hangar and the Crest, finding there was nothing better to do. After a few hours of cards and gambling with Peli and her droids, Mando still hadn't returned and you decided to go ahead and tuck the child in for the night. Bidding you friends goodnight, you hoisted the kid into your arms and climbed the hatch to the Crest.
"What's going on with you father, hm?" You asked softly, bouncing him in your arms. He stared up at you with wide, dark eyes, drinking in every word you spoke.
You walked him over to his makeshift bed, sighing as you settled him in it. You spent a moment longer tracing a finger down his wrinkled skin, a saddened look flickering in your gaze.
"He's going to be the end of me," You whispered, and could've sworn the kid's eyes softened on you. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his brow and walked out of his room, "Sweet dreams, little one."
When you shut the door, your eyes traveled to the bandage still tied securely around your wounded arm. Although Mando assured it would be alright, it hurt like hell. You made your way into your room, grabbing a med kit as you went. You set the kit down on your bed and opened it, about to tend to your would when you heard footsteps and then the hatch closing to the Crest.
Your heart leapt into your throat and you stepped away from the med kit and out of your room, your eyes traveling over the ship until you saw the flash of beskar in the dark, "Finally, you were starting to worry me."
"I'm sure I was," came Din's response, but his voice made you freeze.
You watched in shock for a moment as he turned and stumbled slightly as he walked towards where you stood. With wide eyes, you barely could speak, "Are you...drunk?"
The Mandalorian came closer to you, his massive body making you take a few steps back. He kept advancing until your back was pressed against the cool metal of the Crest's wall.
"Din," you whispered, your heart racing as he stopped before you, settling his forearms above your head and caging you in. You could hardly think straight with him like this.
"Close your eyes, cyar'ika." His voice came, low and rough and gentle and slurred.
"Din, what-"
"Close your eyes." He ordered again. With him this close to you, your inhibitions were all but gone and you did as he asked, shutting your eyes. Before you, you could hear him let out a long sigh.
"I was thinking," He started, followed by the moving of his arms away from the wall. You furrowed your brows at the absence of his presence, but before another thought could leave, you heard a sound that made your heart stop and your mind go blank.
You heard him take his helmet off.
"Din, you're drunk-" You couldn't make it past that before he was cutting in. He's never taken his helmet off around you, it was the creed. It was his life. He'd regret this in the morning.
"Shut up." He murmured, his body heat returning close to you. Your eyes stayed firmly shut as he told you too, that way it wouldn't break the code he lived by. You felt his hands touch your neck softly and jumped slightly in surprise at the absence of gloves, "I know what I'm doing. Just keep your eyes closed, mesh'la."
His skin. His skin was touching yours.
Your breathing hitched, and you knew when he settled those bare, rough hands onto your jaw that he did so in a manner to feel the thrum of your pulse in your neck. It was wildly racing, quicker than it ever had.
"I was thinking," He started again, running his thumbs over your skin and forever ruining you from contact with anyone else ever again, "That you almost died."
His low voice had taken on an edge of sadness and you nearly opened your eyes out of habit, but forced them to stay closed.
"You almost died, and I never got to know what those pretty lips of yours tasted like"
What in the stars was happening? Was this real? Were you going to wake up and find it was all a dream in a few moments? Or was this finally putting the last few days into context? Even after your talk, the hunt had messed him up and haunted him just as it had you. And now here he was, his breath fanning across your skin and his lips almost brushing against yours.
You never imagined this would happen, not in thirty lifetimes did you think you'd ever know what it would feel like to press your lips against Din Djarin's.
And yet, in the next second, you knew.
Without warning, he captured your lips with his and pressed his body against yours, keeping you against the wall. He grabbed your hands in one of his, pressing them together over your head to keep you from touching his face. As his lips worked desperately, hungrily, passionately against yours, your knees buckled and his free hand slipped around your waist, keeping you from falling.
This had to be a dream, it had to be. This couldn't be real, but it was. You knew that he was drunk and that he'd probably not remember this in the morning. You tried to pull away, tried to force yourself to stop but he held you fast, crushing your body against his and making you forget your own name with his tongue in your mouth.
You didn't want it to end, but you knew it would have to eventually. It would end and you would have to go back to pretending like you weren't in love with him.
As if you'd brought it about by just thinking it, Din's lips left yours. He wasn't kissing you, but he stayed so close that his nose touched yours.
"I'm sorry," He breathed, his lips brushing against yours.
And then he was gone.
You stood there with your eyes closed long after you heard his bedroom door shut. You cursed every star in the sky, because now that you knew what his skin felt like, every moment without it touching you was pure and unbridled torture. This torture was worse than any you'd felt under Master Finon Kane and his troopers.
When you slept that night, you dreamt of Din's lips on yours.
|||
In the morning, you didn't know whether or not Din was going to continue ignoring you, address what happened last night, or pretend like the last few days haven't even happened. When you greeted him in the belly of the ship and he he greeted you the same as he has for months before heading off to find bounties, you realized it would be the last option.
Anything was better than the blatant ignoring, but having him act normal around you was horrific in itself.
"Hey little guy," You greet the child, a smile on your lips as you reached down and stroked his ear. He giggled up at you just as the Mandalorian walked up the hatch and into the Crest.
"So," You began, watching him set down the bag of pucks he collected in town. He goes still for a moment, but keeps his helmet firmly away from you.
"So," He repeats, sounding utterly anxious but trying to play it cool. It makes humor curl in your gut and you decide to push you luck.
"What's the plan for today?" You ask, and from the sigh he lets out you can see he was expected something regarding last night.
"Picked up some pucks in town, we can go through 'em and see what we can do." He responds. You nod, reaching down a hand and letting the child play with you finger.
"So getting drunk isn't in the cards, then?"
The sharp intake of breath from the Mandalorian nearly makes you crack with laughter. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep your humor at just the smile on your lips.
"No." Din replies gruffly.
"That's a shame," You sigh, looking up at him finally to find him already facing you and the child, "I like drunk you. He's fun."
"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry." He states, making your humor dissipate in record speed. You hold his beskar-covered gaze for a moment, feeling the phantom scrape of his calloused hands on your skin and the touch of his lips to yours.
"Which part?" You ask, holding your breath in a way that made it clear whatever he said next would cement something between the two of you. He stays silent for a long while before walking up to you, the child between the two of you. He reaches down and strokes the kid's head lovingly before looking to you.
"Which part do you want to be the mistake?" Din whispers, the gravel of his tone silky smooth as it caresses you. He's playing with you, you suddenly realize. You played with him with the drunk comment and he's playing back, testing to see which of you will break first.
You have to smother your smile before it can make it to your face.
"Careful Mando," You respond, your tone barely stable, "You've got a clan of two to protect. I-"
"Three."
He interrupts you with such a sure, calm voice that you almost miss what he says, "What?" You whisper, your teasing gone.
"Three," Din repeats, "Clan of three."
Before you can respond, a nonsensical babble from below makes the two of you look down to see a confused and yet very aware child. His smalls hands are holding your fingers and Din's hand is on his ear, and for a moment it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
But then you and Din come to your senses, and you mutually decide to push off the game of testing the tension until it breaks again.
"We should go through those pucks," Din states, walking away and to the sack he set down earlier. With a smile that you're glad he doesn't see, you wonder how much longer you can go without telling him what he really is to you. You repeat what he said to you in your mind.
Clan of three.
Mando dumps out the bounty pucks, sorting through them as you lean against the wall, your arms crossed and giving your input with each one he clicks open.
"Another mercenary, set on Naboo." Mando announces, the picture of the target hovering over the puck. You click your tongue.
"After the Trandoshan, I think we should take a break from mercenaries," You advise, earning a nod of agreement from Din. He sets the puck aside and grabs another, clicking it on.
"This one's on Tatooine, but I think I'm ready to see something besides this desert planet," The Mandalorian notes, and you hum your agreement.
"Trees would be nice, like on Felucia" You add, an absentminded smile growing on your face, "Or maybe a nice water planet."
"Water and this armor don't go together, mesh'la"
You smirk at him from your spot at the wall, "All the more reason to go."
His sudden laugh is enough to make every sorrow remotely near your mind melt away. Everything is back to normal, everything is going well, everything is beautiful.
Until he clicks open the next puck.
That's when your world comes crashing down.
The silence that settles over the cabin is thick and unlike the comfortable one you are used to. Mando goes as still as death before you, his body taught under his armor. Horror, real and true, washes over every fiber of your being.
Because that's your picture on the bounty puck, and the one who put it out is Finon Kane.
No. No. This isn't real, this isn't happening.
Din says your name, slow and guarded.
No, not when everything was perfect. Not when you'd found your family, your clan.
You begin to shake your head, all of those years of torture and darkness roaring through your mind. You'd just begun to forget it all, truly forget it all.
But you guess it's true what they say, you really can't run from your past forever.
"Y/N, what-"
You're shoving through the Crest towards your room, leaving Din in stunned silence until he comes to his senses and follows.
"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" You mumble, blinding panic tearing you apart as you rummage wildly through your belongings. It only takes a few seconds before your hands close around your satchel, and your chest doesn't loosen even an inch when you lift it and find it still heavy with the item that is dooming you.
You clutch the satchel close and sling it across your body, standing to leave your room only to find Din blocking the path with his massive body.
"Cyar'ika, what's going on?" His voice is commanding as usual, but it holds an edge of panic that you can't deny.
You feel like a cornered animal, and your fingers clutch the strap of your bag tightly.
"Mando, move." You plead, moving to go around him only for him to grab your shoulders and pull you back.
"No, Mando move!' You beg, pulling against his hold, "Din please."
"Stop it!" He orders, holding you fast, his chest heaving with worried breaths. He stares at you for a moment before it seems to click in his mind, "What were you running from?"
You know what he refers to, you mind zipping back to that moment when you stowed away on his ship. Your silent for a long while, your panic not lowering an ounce. You've always felt safe with Din, always. You long to tell him everything, to let him help you because you know he'd never hunt you. You'd feel safe, but you wouldn't be safe.
The Mandalorian couldn't protect you from this, but you could protect him from it.
"I stole something," You whisper, your voice barely above a breath, "And my old master won't stop until he has it and me."
"What did you take?" Mando asks, his tone flooded with calculation as he tries to figure a way out of this, "If we hunt him down first, we can-"
"Din," Your voice breaks as you cut in, placing one hand on the beskar chest plate and longing for the feel of his skin again, "My reaper has come for me. And I can't let him take you too"
Before he can get out another sentence, you use your free hand to search in your satchel until your fingers close around the cool metal of what doesn't belong to you.
Then you pull out the lightsaber you stole and crack the butt of it so hard against the Mandalorian's helmet that he drops to the floor, unconscious.
He taught you that move with a blaster.
And now, you've saved his life with it.
You stand for a moment in silence, your heart slowly shattering in your chest as you look down at the love of your life. Tears cloud your vision, and you look up to see the child looking at you with confused eyes. You break, a sob wracking your body as you bend down to the Mandalorian's slumped body grip his gloved hand, pulling it up to place a kiss to his palm.
"I'm sorry," Your words mirror his from last night, and then you're pocketing the lightsaber that once belonged to the Empire and running out of the Razor Crest.
You're now his bounty, and if he knows what's good for him he'll let this one go.
Let you go.
||| Din Djarin
When the Mandalorian awoke, he was alone.
There was one heart-breaking moment of confusion as he sat up from his slumped position on the floor. It wasn't silent, but there was something missing in the array of noises. There was no laughter, no yelling. There was no light-hearted remarks, no sarcastic punches.
There was no her.
The thought jarred him so deeply from his newly-conscious muddled mind that he shoved himself to his feet, his heart pounding so loud in his chest that he could feel every thrum.
This wasn't happening. She wouldn't have just left, she wouldn't.
He stumbled out of her small room, his gaze wildly shooting around the Razor Crest. The child lay exactly where Din remembered, right before...
What the hell happened? How did he-
The memories came back in a rush—the hand on his chest that had distracted him as her other hand grabbed something from her satchel, something metal and cylindrical. She'd hit him with it, whipped it across his head like he'd taught her. She must've gotten the blaster...no, it wasn't a blaster. It was...it was...
Stars
A lightsaber. She'd stolen a lightsaber all those months ago.
The thought made his head spin and it took a great deal of effort to keep his knees from buckling. Whenever she'd spoken of her past, it had been vague. Mentions of an Imperial encampment even after the Empire's fall, the shoving of her city into slavery, the torture she endured at the hands of her master.
The very thought made him clench his jaw. The first time she'd spoken about this Finon Kane, he'd wanted to find him and slaughter him with his bare hands for ever laying a finger on her. And now...now he had a bounty on her and Din wasn't there to protect her.
The thought spurred him back into action. Din scooped up the child into his hands before rocketing down the hatch of the Crest and towards where Peli worked with her droids. The mechanic seemed slightly nervous, almost as if she was avoiding his gaze.
"Mando, off to do a hunt?" She asked, trying to sound casual and failing. Din didn't falter as he walked up and shoved the child into her arms. Peli startled as she took the kid, looking up at Din with wide eyes. She couldn't see the Mandalorian's face, but it was clear to anyone the pure, guttural rage tangling with a panic he's never known.
"What-"
"Where did she go?" He demanded. The mechanic sputtered for a moment, holding the child close.
"I don't know what you mean," Peli tried, and Din almost growled.
"Peli if you don't tell me where she went I will rip your tongue out," Din snarled. The woman looked at him desperately, her gaze torn.
"She told me not to tell you, Mando. How do I know you're not going to..." Her words died out and it took every ounce of Din's restraint to keep from yelling again.
"Hurt her?" He finished for the mechanic, his voice just as lethal when it was quiet, "She's in danger, Peli. Real danger, and if you don't tell me where she went someone else is going to find her first and she'll...she'll-"
He could't get the words out, couldn't hide the panic flooding his tone. Din didn't know what he'd do if someone else found her first, he couldn't even comprehend that she wasn't with him right now. He didn't think he'd ever have to know what it felt like for her to be absent. The mechanic softened immediately, letting out a long sigh.
"She didn't say exactly where she was going," Peli finally admitted, holding the kid tighter, "Just that she needed to get as far away as she could as fast as possible. When I asked, she said something remote, something green. She took the spare ship in the hangar an hour ago."
Mando didn't need an exact answer to know where she was going, he knew. With a brisk nod of his head, he gestured at the kid as he walked towards the Crest, "Watch him for me?"
Peli nodded, "Of course. Do you think she'll...do you think she'll be okay?"
The Mandalorian stopped, looking over his shoulder slightly so that the mechanic was in this peripheral vision.
"If she isn't, I'll burn the planet down."
With that he was getting on the Crest, his heart hammering in his chest and fear, real fear, flooding every part of his being. He shut the hatch and practically vaulted into the cockpit. Din threw himself into the captain's seat and swiveling to face the control panel. He didn't hesitate as he put in the coordinates. She mentioned trees earlier, and he knew the way she thought, knew she was smart enough to go somewhere with more jungles than cities right now.
Felucia.
He'd go, he'd find her, he'd knock her upside the head for running away from him, and he'd get her back.
And stars help anyone he’s found has so much as touched her.
||| You
It was strange, being on the run again.
Even though it hadn't even been a full year since you last were sprinting from your reaper, it has felt like a lifetime because of your company. Time slowed down with Din Djarin, and for a long while you felt safe, protected, home.
And now you were scrambling around, planet to planet, in the dark alleyways and through dense, uninhabited forests to put distance between you and...
You stopped for a moment, your back pressed up against a tree in the rich, winding forest of Felucia. Who were you trying to put distance between?
Finon Kane, his squadron of stormtroopers, and the only real family you've ever had.
That last one sent a spear of heart-wrenching pain racketing through you. Typical, so very typical, to find something so worth having and to think the galaxy would let you keep it. This galaxy was cold and cruel, it was a better thief than you'd ever be and you knew it, you knew it. And yet you let yourself get close anyways. It's a strange thing what love can do. It made you reckless enough to think that for once, just once, the galaxy would let you make it away with what you found.
It turns out you aren't as good of a thief as you thought, because the happiness you stole has been returned, and your time playing at a good life has run out.
You picked up your brutal pace again, trekking through the jungle and refusing to stop for even the barest of needs unless it was unavoidable. This would never end, this hunt. As you moved, the lightsaber in your bag banged against your hip, reminding you of what had gotten you into this mess in the first place.
You shouldn't have taken it, you really shouldn't have, but you couldn't stand to watch Master Kane take another slave's life with a weapon that didn't belong to him. He'd found it in the rubble of the fallen Empire and he thought he was entitled to it. It had been used as a weapon of terror during the Imperial rule and then after because of your master, and taking it? You'd not only done it so the weapon could be given back to the New Republic where it belonged, but because after everything he'd done to you, after all of the scars you bore because of Finon Kane, you'd wanted to hurt him. You had wanted him to feel every ounce of pain and desperation you had, and for that cause, you were willing to pay the price that was now due.
The jungle-covered planet would do well to hide you for a little while, give you time to gather up some credits in case you needed to run again. You walk around a grove of trees, the jungle beginning to thin the closer you get to a city. As you do, a sound you're all too familiar with makes you stop dead in your tracks.
A steady beeping, consistently increasing as it gets louder.
A tracking fob.
You barely have time to scramble around to the back of a thick tree when a blaster sounds out behind you, singing the side of the tree where you'd just been standing.
"Come on out, thief! I get more credits for bringing you in alive." The gruff voice of a bounty hunter wafts out to you, a hint of smugness in her tone.
Your mind is grappling for options as you sprint away from your tree and towards another thicket up ahead. Your feet are silent on the grassy floor and you deftly miss any roots in your path, so the bounty hunter doesn't notice you at first. When she does, it's made known by the firing of the blaster at your back.
Gratefully, the hunter has horrible aim.
Blast after blast burn into the trees around you, so you continue to stick close to them as you run. How the hunter found you is incomprehensible, but you don't waste time worrying about that matter and sprint for your life towards the city that thrives just outside the jungle's end. The only tricky thing would be making it across the large clearing between the end of the trees you were approaching and the city gates up ahead.
"Get back here!" The hunter shouts to you, falling further and further behind.
You allow the hint of a smile, but don't dare to slow down. The end of the jungle is growing nearer, and it's only a minute or so of sprinting before you're at the city g-
Another bounty hunter steps out from around the last tree in the clearing, a blaster held lazily in his hands. You skid to a stop so suddenly that your feet slip on the floor and you have to catch yourself with a hand to the jungle floor to keep from falling on your ass. You whirl around to go back the way you came only to come face to face with the other hunter ho had already been pursuing you approaching, her chest heaving with breath but her blaster lifted nonetheless.
"Nowhere to run, thief," The one behind you lilts, his voice heavy with experience and sounding almost bored, "Surrender now and I'll let you keep your life."
"I saw her first, the bounty's mine!" The first hunter grits, her eyes flicking from your face and to the hunter behind you. You turn halfway to keep them both in your vision, your heart pounding in your chest.
"You would've lost her if it wasn't for me," The other counters, both of their blasters lowered slightly. You would make a run for it, but you're directly in the middle of the quarrel, and they'd have you dead in seconds. So, you do the only thing that can save you, the thing you've wanted to do for months now.
You pull the lightsaber from your satchel, clutch it in both hands, and turn it on.
The argument between the hunters dies as a burning blade, as red as death and blood and anguish, ignites into the green of the forest. The two colors clash, one seeming wrong with the other, but you clutch it nonetheless and move before they can lift their weapons again.
"That's a..." The male hunter stands shell-shocked, his words dying as he watches you advance on the female hunter who has already begun firing at you.
You're clumsy with the foreign weapon, but her bad aim and you're mild understand of how to move the saber allows the blasts and blade of the same color to clash as they collide, saving you from the death her weapon assures.
Her weapon may bring death, but yours is death.
She nearly blasts your head off, but you manage to shove the lightsaber through her middle before she gets another shot out. Her strangled gasp followed by the thud of her body into the ground nearly makes you falter, but the sound of the other hunter approaching snaps you out of your own mind. It was you or them, you assure yourself.
You'd wounded the other hunter quickly, grounding him before turning the saber off and sprinting for the city ahead. As you did, you shoved the blade into your satchel and barreled through the open gates, the merchants and travelers bustling through gasping and yelping as you shoved through them. The second you were inside, you stopped running and allowed yourself to meld into the crowd, walking in their flow and moving in their manners. It was mere seconds before you were blended into their midst, the only difference between you and them being your heaving chest and singed clothes from a blast or two that got dangerously close.
You thought you'd made it out before a figure shot out of the alleyway you were passing.
A gasp left your lips as they grabbed you and tugged you inside faster than you could comprehend. Before you could reach for the saber in your satchel, the bag was ripped clean off your shoulder, nearly dislocating the limb in the process and making a cry of pain leave your lips. The sound couldn't even make it fully out before you were being pressed against the sand wall of a building with the steel edge of a blade at your throat.
Your eyes were wide and wild as they took in your surroundings—two hunters surrounded you expectantly, not counting the one holding you at knifepoint. They must have agreed to a split bounty and a temporary alliance.
"Check the bag," The one holding you grunts out. On command, one of the two standing around you searches the bag he'd ripped clean off, his hand rummaging through until a sickening smile lit up his lips. Slowly, he pulled the lightsaber out.
"It's here." His response was smug and nauseating. You knew this was going to happen, but you thought you'd have a least a bit more time before it did.
"Haven't seen a real lightsaber before," The other muses, the two of them in the back looking over the silver and gold-plated handle, "You're going to make us rich, girl"
"Give it-" You struggled against the hold of the hunter only for the knife to cut down into the tender skin of your neck, making your words collapse into a breathy cry of pain. He kept the knife embedded slightly into your skin, his eyes boring into yours as a smirk captured his lips, "Move again, and I'll knick an artery on accident. Then, we can see how long it will take for the life to drain out of your eyes."
The word accident rolled off his tongue with a promise, and you fought back a shiver of fear. The press of the burning steel in your flesh was agonizing, and you realized all at once that you were going to die. Whether it was here and now with this group of hunters or when they handed you off to Finon Kane, you were going to die.
The thought made your body grow suddenly cold.
You'd spent so many years thinking that you'd never have a family again, that you'd never know what it meant to love and be loved. It became your bleak reality, and then you quite literally stumbled into the two individuals that would become your entire world.
It was selfish of you to stay, so damn selfish. Deep down, you had known that Kane would put a bounty on your head, that he'd find you one day and make you pay for every bit of trouble he'd endured because of you. Yet you did it anyway. You stayed and you let yourself grow attached beyond hope.
You let yourself fall in love, and that was possibly the worst of the sins you'd committed.
And, just like the other sins, you had thought you could run from that one, thought its penance would never arrive. Now here you were, facing death at the hands of those in the very same profession as your Mandalorian while he was far away on Tatooine, probably wondering what had gone wrong. You knew you'd hurt both him and the child by leaving, but you would rather they be hurt and alive than dead.
"Now," The one holding you announces, stepping back and easing the knife out of your throat, "It's time to bring you to your master in top shape."
You barely had time to register the warm blood trickling down your neck from the cut of the hunter's knife before his fist was cracking against your cheek. The force of the unexpected blow slammed your head into the wall and brought you crashing to the ground. Your groan was just out of your mouth when the next blow came, this one to your ribs. A cry of pure agony slipped out as a loud crack resounded amongst your rib cage with the powerful kick, making tears collect in your eyes.
You felt utterly helpless as you desperately tried to lift yourself off of the ground, but you were so tired. You were utterly exhausted, and it took every ounce of your strength to pull out your beskar knife and slash the tendons along the back of one of the hunter's heels. Purple blood sprayed and he shouted, collapsing to the floor beside you.
"Get back here, you little bitch!" One seethed, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you up to your knees. Before your eyes could focus on where he was, you slashed with your knife. He must have seen it coming because he grabbed your wrist in a bruising grip.
"Drop the knife," He growled, one of his hunter companions still on the floor clutching his ankle and the other standing by the one who held you, the lightsaber handle in his hands.
"Give me the saber," You bargained breathlessly, your voice crutched with torment.
The hunters didn't like that very much, and the one holding the saber slammed it against your cheek. You took the hit with a groan, enough pain already crawling through you that you barely even felt it.
"This isn't a negotiation," The one holding you gritted, "Drop. The. Knife."
It was stupid, and you knew that you should just listen at this point, but you couldn't stop yourself from lifting your chin stubbornly and holding his gaze, "You'll have to break my hand."
"With pleasure," He snarled, his grip tightening on your wrist. Before he could snap it, a low, modulated voice rasped into the alley.
"Break her hand, and I'll make sure your death is the slowest."
You shut your eyes instantly, your shoulders loosening with both relief and agony. He'd come for you. Din had found you, and you couldn't stop the bittersweet feeling crashing through your soul. You wanted to hate him for it, wanted to scream at him and knock the sense of your desertion into his brain. But you knew you weren't capable of hating Din Djarin, not even if you wanted to. Especially not now as he stood like a dark angel in the entrance to the alleyway, glowering with rage wholly directed at the hunters left standing.
"This is our bounty, Mandalorian," The one holding the lightsaber sneered, "Find another-"
He was dead before his sentence could complete, his neck twisted at a wrong angle from where Mando had snapped it with his bare hands.
That made the one holding your wrist let go of you instantly.
"Y-You can have her, she's all y-yours Mandalorian." He stumbled back, running into his downed companion who had finally managed to limp to his feet.
Din didn't respond as he stooped slowly, grabbing the lightsaber and slipping it along his holster. He was as silent as death as he stalked up to you, his beskar clinking slightly in the tense silence. You were still on the floor, your skin bloody and your heart pounding so fast you thought it would burst. You wanted to crash into him and hold him, never letting go. You wanted to let him take you back to the Razor Crest and help you figure all of this out. You were safe with him. But he wasn't safe with you, and neither was the child. You had to protect the child, you had to protect Din.
The two remaining hunters were frozen in terror, trapped in the dead end alley like cornered prey. Din stopped in front of you, his mask peered down at you as his hand reached out. Much gentler than you could even imagine, his hand softly gripped your chin and tilted it upwards and to the side so he could see the blossoming, nasty bruise on your cheek.
His gentle fingers were in a fierce dichotomy with the rigid, furious posture of his body. Mando slid them down, leaving lightning where he touched as he lightly traced the cut in your neck. Your gaze locked with his mask, and he held it for a long minute. Then, he dropped his hand and cocked his head over at the two hunters.
"Which one cut you, cyar'ika?" His voice was dark and tender all at once, and it sent a shiver racing down your spine.
"The one limping," You responded without hesitation, your eyes up on him as he nodded once and began to stalk towards the two hunters.
Confusion rippled across their features, and the one who hadn't cut you was quick to shove his ally in front of him. Their loyalty only ran monetary, and even though you knew it wouldn't save his life he had to try.
"What are you doing? I t-thought you were a hunter!" The hunter who the Mandalorian had his sights on was shaking with terror, and it brought you a wicked sense of justice.
"I am."
The next few moments passed in a mess of beskar and knives and blood. The last remaining hunter could only watch in horror as Din ripped his colleague apart with a confidence that could make any skilled fighter wary. The man's pleas and cries were shrill, and the people on the main road were wise enough to keep walking as they passed.
Then, it was quiet. And Din turned to the last hunter pressed against the wall across from you.
"No, please. I'll tell you anything you want, I'll give you anything please!" He begged, but his hurried words were cut off by Din's hand on his throat. He tugged the hunter close, his beskar helmet splattered with blood.
"If you find anyone taking her bounty, tell them what happened here. Make sure they know they will suffer the same fate. Understand?" Din's tone was taught with thinly veiled anger, and you could tell that it was an effort to keep from killing the man.
The hunter nodded briskly, his eyes wide and his legs trembling. When the Mandalorian finally released him, he was sprinting out of the alley, leaving a tense silence to settle over the two of you that remained. Din turned towards where you still sat on the ground, and as he walked over you were suddenly aware of the conversation that was about to happen, the anger he was about to rain upon you.
Mando extended a hand down to you, which you took and gladly accepted his help as you stood. Your hand gingerly pressed against your cracked rib, every breath and every minuscule movement sending sharp, shooting pain through the area, "You alright?"
"I will be," You nearly whispered, you eyes locked onto his brooding, helmeted stare. There was only mere inches between the two of you, and you knew that if you stayed this close, you wouldn't be able to leave again. You went to step back, but he tightened his hold on your hand enough to keep you close.
"Let me go," You breathed, the words meaning more than just physically.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Din gritted out, his voice conveying the worry and hurt and anger that his mask hid. His voice broke your heart.
"Din, you have to let me go." You were almost begging now, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. He shifted his hold so that he was holding both of your hands, probably to keep you from reaching for the saber at his belt.
"Not again," He vowed, his usually collected voice portraying how barely bridled his emotions were, "Not until you tell me why the hell you left me."
You were silent for a moment, trying desperately to find a way to speak without showing just how deeply this was shattering your heart, your soul.
"Did you really think I would turn you in? That I would collect your bounty?" Din asked finally, his voice breaking.
"No," Your shaky voice finally began to work, growing stronger by the moment, "That's the thing, Mando. You wouldn't, which means when these hunters came looking for me, they'd find you and the child."
"You think I can't protect you?"
"Din, I have never known safety until I met you," You swore, the tears collecting in your eyes beginning to fall, "But the man who's hunting me, Finon Kane? He will stop at nothing until he has me and the lightsaber. If I had stayed, I would be giving you and the child a death sentence."
"Y/N, you're staying with me." The Mandalorian asserts, his voice trembling. You shake your head, your tears falling steadier now.
"Din please, you have to leave me here. Protect the child, it's your duty. You have to forget you ever knew me, forget I was ever with you, forget me."
"You think I could do that?" He cuts in abruptly, tugging you closer to show the urgency and truth of his words, "You think I could ever walk away and just forget you?"
His words were dangerous, and you tried to stop him, "DIn-"
"You have ruined me, ner cyar'ika. Every moment I spend away from you is torture, it's a moonless night that never ends."
His words leave you breathless, your eyes wide and your heart stumbling in your chest as you try and fail to find a response. He won't let you speak, though.
"The child and you? You are my clan, my family. You two are all that I have, and I am nothing without you," He's so close now that you can almost hear the unmodulated tone of his voice. Din lets go of one of your hands to rest at the base of your neck and bring your head close to his. What he does next...it's a moment that will forever be etched into your brain.
He brings his forehead to yours, and he leaves it there for a moment. The cool metal of his helmet bleeds into your skin, and you can't stop the soft gasp that leaves your lips. You grab onto his beskar-plated chest for support because you know what this is. On easy nights, Din would often sit and tell you stories of the Mandalorian culture. He spoke once or twice of the Keldabe kiss, a gesture meant to show love and affection. The meaning of this moment was not lost on you, and it nearly ripped out your heart to think that he could...that he could love you back. He possibly loved you and now you were about to die.
"I'm not leaving you," Din murmured, the cool beskar of his mask pulling away from your forehead. You felt the cool metal of something pressing into your hands and you look down to see him handing you the lightsaber, "We'll end this together."
You couldn't look away from him, couldn't bring yourself to walk away again. You were being selfish and stupid, but with what just happened, with what Din had just said, you couldn't leave him.
You simply nodded, "Okay."
Din nodded as well, stepping back from you, "Okay."
There was a moment of tension between the two of you, a moment where each was waiting for the other to say something more, to mention those three words that had yet to be spoken. You watched him walk towards the alley exit, following slowly behind. He'd begun to say some sort of strategy, but you weren't listening. You didn't know what was going to happen next, you didn't know how much time you had. You needed to say it, and you needed to say it now before you lost this chance.
"Mando?" You cut in, making him pause and look over at you as you entered the streets of Felucia, "I love you"
The Mandalorian froze, his muscles going taught. The bustling world around you seemed to dull for a moment, and all that was left was you and him. Your heart pounding in your chest and you felt your breaths getting shorter and shorter as you waited for his response.
You heard Din take in a breath to respond, but someone beat him to it.
"So this is what you've been doing all this time."
It was your turn to freeze, and your gaze was still locked on the Mandalorian's as your eyes went wide with fear, with terror. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice if the galaxy ended and then begun again a hundred times over.
Slowly, you turned to face Master Finon Kane and the six storm troopers that flanked him.
"I believe you have something of mine," Kane cut straight to the chase, his troopers making quick work of clearing the street while he stood not ten paces from you. Your fingers tightened around the handle of the lightsaber still in your grasp, and you saw Kane's eyes dart down to it.
"Hand it over now, and I might consider killing you. Your Mandalorian doesn't scare me."
There was no hiding the blatant horror inundating you. Those words, you knew what they meant. You preferred death to what you knew life with Kane would promise. Staring into his eyes, you were reliving every moment of pain you'd endured at his hands—every beating, execution, and humiliation, they haunted you.
You didn't know when Din had moved to your side, but you felt the nudge of his body next to yours, and it knocked you from your spiral. He was letting you know that he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere. And, looking at the odds, you could honestly say that the two of you had fared worse.
“Stand down and I’ll make your death quick,” you fire back, your voice surprisingly strong. Kane barked out a laugh as the six troopers fell into line behind him.
"You can't kill me, pet. You know it and so do I." With a flick of his fingers, his troopers were moving, two next to Kane and four fanning out in front of us.
"I know that," You responded quietly, but not weakly. Your fingers barely brushed against Din's hand, the movement so small it was imperceptible to those before you, but the way his fingers touched yours gave you the assurance that you were about to make the right move, "But he can."
The troopers couldn't even raise their blasters before Din and you moved on them. The next few moments were a blur, shining beskar and frantic blasts missing their targets as Din cut down the troopers with ease. You could hear feel the blast of the fire caster on his wrist as he incinerated two more.
He had four dead before you could even turn on the lightsaber.
Your eyes shot to Kane's, whose were wide with shock and a bleat of panic when he saw your hands move to grasp the lightsaber before you.
"Don't-"
His cry died in his throat when the red saber born of a bleeding, hate-filled kyber crystal ignited before you. You barely new how to use it, but it wasn't difficult to shove the burning side into the armor of the troopers.
Then, it was silent.
Din sauntered up beside you, standing tall and strong with his helmet cocked intimidatingly at Kane. You didn't turn off the lightsaber, but let its red light cast a vengeful glow across your features.
"You think you're so clever," Finon Kane spat, his desperation betraying him, "You think you could so easily b-"
His words were cut off by the hiss of a lightsaber meeting flesh, and something in your chest loosened as you looked up from where you had shoved the saber deep into his belly. Your old master's eyes were wide and his mouth gaping. He was shocked, he really hadn't thought you could do it.
"For every friend of mine you slaughtered," You grit out, shoving the lightsaber an inch deeper and making him cry out in pain, "Their souls are avenged."
He was dead before his body hit the ground, and you simply sheathed your lightsaber, looked to your Mandalorian, and walked away. You didn't realize that you were trembling until the two of you walked outside the city gates and Din's hand grabbed onto yours, large and warm and sure. The Razor Crest sat waiting ahead of you, and you nearly buckled and sobbed in relief.
"It's over," You whispered, you eyes dazed and your words no more than a breath as the gravity of what just happened crashed over you.
You stopped walking in front of your beloved ship, turning to face Din as he did you, "I'm...I'm free"
You let out a breathy, wild, joyous laugh and launched forward, wrapping your arms around the Mandalorian's neck. He paused only for a moment before you felt him melt into you, his hands slipping around your waist and holding you closer than life.
"Thank you, Din," You whispered, your words a vow and a prayer, "I am forever in your debt."
His hold on you tightened, one hand slipping up your back to hold more of you to him, "You owe me nothing. Your life is yours to hold, you are no longer in the service of any master."
Tears you hated to acknowledge slipped down your cheeks, and you were glad to be pressed so close to him so that he couldn't see them fall. He knew, though. He knew.
You didn't want to pull away, didn't want to know again what it felt like to be away from him. Eventually, it could not be avoided. You wanted to get on the Crest and fly away from this place, to bring your life back to the normal you'd fallen so deeply in love with, the one with the child and the bounties and the adventure and him. Especially him.
"Now," You announced, your tone light and jovial as you pulled away and looked up at Mando with a smile, "Where's the child? I'm sure he's been miserable without me,"
You began to walk up to the Crest, but you hadn't realized that the Mandalorian hadn't followed you until his voice called out and made you pause.
"He's with Peli, safe and sound."
You stopped in your step and turned around to see Din walking slowly up to where you stood. Something in his tone made your heart jolt. Your voice was no more than an unsure whisper when you spoke next, "That's good."
Din hummed, and the sound made every thought abandon your mind. He stopped in his gait when he was just in front of you, but not as close as you thought he'd be.
"Are we going to...get on the ship?" You asked, for the first time unaware of what he was going to do next.
"We will," He finally responded, taking one step closer to you and suddenly making you realize why he'd left the room that was quickly dissipating. He was torturing you, playing with you, and once again uncaged butterflies swarmed your insides, "But first, I want to talk about what you said earlier."
His voice was low and smooth and sure, in direct contrast to your trembling one as you tried to act cool. He was making you squirm and he loved it, "You'll have to be more specific, Mando."
Din took that last step closer to you, nearly closing the gap as he tilted his masked face down at you in a way that had your head spinning, "You know what I'm talking about, mesh'la."
You grappled for a response, you really did, but you didn't know what to say, didn't know how you could possibly respond cooly to that.
"Look at you, finally the speechless one." His voice was taunting and you could hear the smile in it. He grew more serious as he slowly pulled off one of his gloves and achingly slow brought his calloused hand to brush against your cheek. His skin on yours again almost had you buckling to the ground.
"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar'ika," Din's words blanketed over you with such a tenderness that your mind raced to understand what they meant. You didn't have to think long, because Din held your chin and brought his beskar-masked forehead to yours, "I love you too, sweetheart."
In all the years of captivity under the Imperial rule on Corrida, you never thought you'd hear those words again, I love you. They were sacred and seldom spoken, and you had stopped hearing them long before your family was taken from you. And now here you were, pressed close to Din Djarin, a Mandalorian whose ship you stowed away on in pure coincidence, and you were hearing those words be said to you in a way that no one had before.
His voice was quiet and playful as he leaned closer to your ear, "And I've got plenty of ways to show it once you get your ass on the damn ship."
Din stepped back from you and turned, walking to the Crest as if he hadn't just promised you everything you've been dreaming of for months. With your pulse thrumming wildly, you followed after him.
"What about the lightsaber? We need to return it to the New Republic," You called out.
The hatch opened to the crest and he walked in without looking back, "They can wait. I can't."
Your cheeks were warm with a blush as you followed him into the Crest, and you couldn't help but wonder how you'd gotten this lucky, what you had done to deserve this. You didn't know, but all you knew was that you'd waited for long, torturous years to have the freedom of forever, and here it was. Here he was. Din Djarin was your forever, no matter how long the breath was left in your lungs.
Your past had finally died, and the ghosts had stopped haunting you. Your present was now your future, and you'd never look back again.
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cordyce · 2 years
Text
BY YOUR HANDS ALONE
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neteyam sully x gn!reader
notes: this is silly & overtly fluffy & all over the place if i am completely honest rn. neteyam is a little flustered & probably ooc. sorry :’)
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"there you are."
"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.
"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.
but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"
days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.
"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."
you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.
"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."
neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.
it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.
you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.
"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.
you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.
because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.
he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?
"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.
he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.
"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.
"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."
"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"
"a.. date."
so fidgety.
"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.
"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“
"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.
he nods curtly.
the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.
but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.
the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.
you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.
your name has not been among them.
“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”
a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.
but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.
“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”
“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.
“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”
your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”
neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”
you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.
“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”
your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.
but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?
“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”
“then who is it? who could you possibly—“
a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.
“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”
your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.
you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.
you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.
and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.
“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”
now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.
“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”
“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.
“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”
“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”
“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”
“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”
“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”
“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”
“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.
“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.
this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.
the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.
he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.
he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.
"i can finish that, you know."
"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"
and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.
as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.
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likes & reblogs appreciated !
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Note
Do you take requests? I have a brainrot here, with the Creator’s child being Childe’s kid
Imagine the one codenamed as Childe have a child, the convos of creator can be confusing to their people HAHHAHA
Or there’s this one ginger child that looks like one of Childe’s sibling but it is really just Tartaglia’s kid
The creator had a:
Carrot top child
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WC: 500~
I kinda take request ig? I like reading what other people think of what I wrote and little drabbles about ideas
“He is a redhead but not quite like Diluc’s family” Venti waves a wood rattle In front of the baby's face his blue eyes blown wide and arms thrashing around.
“Such an interesting hair color” Morax covers his mouth, a grin forming at the familiarity with who he guessed sired that child.
“Whoever laughs alone something knows, Morax” the tsaritsa eyes him, her hands tying a small ponytail on “her little eurysaces’s” head. For someone who was so mad at the news she did become attached quickly. A mystery to all but morax.
“shouldn't you be the one laughing then?”
“Stop it, you two” you scold them as you take back eurysaces from the tsarina.
“childe, stop playing around you are scaring the child” you chime at him from the door, seeing him throw the kid up and catching him
“He doesn't seem to care, see?” he holds up his one year old, his auburn hair curling wildly in every direction and his mouth forming a smile.
“He is fear laughing”
“look at how happy he is! A little thrill seeker like his папа”
“Childe!” You yell as you walk to your lover and kid “what did I tell you?!”
And as if thinking you were screaming at your kid for eating a piece of candy before supper Ajax's mom starts defending her grandkid, already saying she was the one who urged him to have some but stops when you pass by her.
“I told you to stop trying to chop the damned wood, your shoulder blade is broken, just let your brother do it!” and she turns around to see her son holding up the axe and a small bunch of wood. For some reason he was bare chested.
“child, put on your shirt! You are embarrassing yourself”
“I didn't work out so much only to cover my muscles”
“папочка, stop embarrassing yourself…”
“Oh, ajax, it's been so long since we last saw you, since you father sent you to the fatui to fix your behavior you barely visit”
Childe settles his toddler on his hip, already knowing how long gossipy old neighbors can chat for “oh, it's been busy since their highness decided to stay in Snezhnaya, having to act as a bodyguard and all”
“Seemingly that excessive energy of yours at least did you some good at last” she smirks a bitter twinge of poison over her words, her gray eyes falling on the redhead on his hip “did your mother have another kid? I thought treucer was the last one, but she did say that about Tonya too” she glances over the two kids fighting with snowballs a few meters away.
His smile feels more forced and a thin vein pops just under his eyebrow and getting mixed with with his matching hair “No, treucer is still out spoilt baby brother, this one is my baby”
“But you are so young! Aren't you around 24? So bad you ruined your youth with such a reckless mistake” she grabs her forehead as she sighs without noticing you exiting the house.
“Oh? I would say eury is rather endearing, and it isn't like Ajax's career could advance much more” the poor lady almost falls over from the scare when she sees your face.
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thewritetofreespeech · 5 months
Text
Tressym can be Fickle
WORDS: 692 RATING: G PAIRING: Gale x Tav SUMMARY: based on a very real arguement between my husband & I on who our cat likes more.
It had been a long, arduous, grueling day at the academy.
Though Gale loved his new role as a professor and educator, teaching the young minds of witches & wizards all across Faerun to harness their magic, induction week was the worst. He felt his life was in less peril fighting the Elder Brain or any of their other enemies & cohorts along the Sword Coast than he was now. Testing the new inductees to file them accordingly to their skill. ‘Skill’ being a very loose word tossed around this week.
He returned home that evening with a heavy sigh through the door, an even heavier thud of his satchel filled with books, and a desperate need to be tended to by his spouse. The whole day had been about soothing the egos, feelings, and on occasion literal wounds of new students that Gale thought he deserved some tending to now.
“Tav?” He called out as he put his cloak away. Usually, they greeted him at the door. Or at least acknowledged him when he came home. Curious, Gale walked through the house to try and find them. His search not long as he came upon Tav in the living room. On the couch by a low fire, with Tara on their lap. “Well….don’t you two look cozy.”
“Hmm, we rather are Mr. Dekarios.” Tara agreed. “Or at least we were, until someone started shouting.”
“Apologies for shouting in my own house.” Gale snipped at Tara. Taking his own plush armchair across from them. “Since when did you become a lap cat? And, before you get too ruffled under the feathers, it’s a figure of speech.”
Tara hummed. Seeming to debate about not letting it go but was perhaps indeed to comfortable to make a fuss. “Very recently I suppose. I never had an interest until now.” The tressym purred with her eyes closed as she tilted her head up towards Tav and her head scratches.
“You never took an interest with me.” Gale said with a deep frown.
“You do not have nails, Mr. Dekarios.”
The wizard growled and stood up. Unable to watch his dearest friend and lover betray him like this in front of his own eyes. It was still early for dinner but he stalked off towards the kitchen to focus his frustrations on what to eat.
A few moments later, Tav came in. Looking confused on why he was so upset. “Sorry.” He apologized quickly. “It’s just been a long day. And I am glad that you and Tara are getting along now. Guess I’m being….overly sensitive at being shut out. Tressym can be fickle, but I’ve never known Tara to change her mind about anyone. Again, not that I’m not pleased you two are getting along. I just never thought I would suddenly be second in her estimation.”
“Suddenly second? Please Mr. Dekarios.” The couple turned to see Tara trot in. Seeming interested in their conversation. “I wouldn’t say that you were suddenly second. Not given my high esteem of your mother. A better estimate is which one of you is second on the day, and who is third.”
“Really Tara? Kick a man while he’s down??”
“But, I’m a reasonable creature. Perhaps my estimations can be over swayed. Perhaps with a bit of chicken? Fried pigeons if you have any?”
“So a creature of reason but not honor, eh?” Gale stated, with a wave of his hand as if he wish to brush away this whole conversation.
Before he could leave, Tav wrapped their arms around his waist. Pulling him close. The smell of their hair in his nose. Something like ‘you’ll always be number 1 to me’ muffled into his chest, which causes him to smile and hold them back.
They tell Gale to go upstairs and relax. Take a bath if he liked, while they made dinner. That sounded heavenly, so he did just that.
When he came back down, he was not amused by the roast chicken on his plate. Nor the grinning little tressym in the corner, licking her chops like she’d just swallowed a canary. Or, perhaps, her bribery chicken.
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Sanji- A Moment Alone @ the Whole Cake Chateau
Now I’ll be honest, I haven’t read much Sanji as he’s not one of my mains. However, Whole Cake inspired me to give writing him a go. Thoughts are welcome.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, Spoilers for Zou/Whole Cake, vaginal sex, blowjob, deep throating, pet names, fingering, oral female/male, female riding, breeding, one night stand, I don’t own these characters. A bit fluffy at times.
Summary: Sanji leaves the crew to go to Whole Cake Island, due to a scheme cooked up by Big Mom and his dad. You realize when he’s gone, you may have feelings for him and decide to go after him with the help of Luffy and your crewmates. Once you find Sanji, well, he can’t leave, but you get one night together…
Sanji-Whole Cake
You’d never thought much about Sanji and his advances before, that was until he was gone. When he left Zou suddenly, and to get married of all things, something clicked inside you. Sanji was your friend, but maybe you felt more for him than just friendship?
You’d been with the Strawhats for a while now. Decent fighter, devil fruit ability, and always willing to help with the cooking and cleaning on the ship. Your upbringing was rocky and you thought there was no beauty left in the world. That was until the Strawhats saved you and told you about their adventures. That’s when you realized your dream, to find the beauty in the world from end to end and document it.
Sanji and you were close. You realized preparing food for a crew with a big eater like Luffy, was no easy feet, so you started offering your assistance early on. Though, he rarely took it, as he would rather a pretty lady like you, sit and relax, so he could serve you. However, after much insisting and some teasing that resulted in nose bleeds threatening to ruin his food, he eventually came around.
When he left you were speechless. You just thought he was off in the kitchen again, insisting on no one helping him. Then, a day went by and there was no swooning at your feet or the smell of his cigarettes on the breeze. You missed the way he’d put his arms around you to help teach you to chop things properly. You missed how he’d drop everything to help you or any female if they were in any sort of trouble. You missed how he puffed on his cigarettes in the heat of battle. You missed his advice and his fights with Zoro. Most of all, you missed staying up late and looking at the stars with him. On those nights, you’d discuss what you thought would be at the end of the line, the end of the new world, laughtale. You’d talk about your pasts and your hopes for the future. You never thought your future would be without Sanji. You didn’t know in what capacity, but you knew he’d always be there.
He said he’d be back, he smiled when he said it, but something didn’t feel right. Something in your heart ached. Something funny or sad would happen and he was the first person you’d want to tell, but he was gone. How’d you let him go?
You sat alone outside staring up through the forest at the stars. Nami came out and found you. She sat next to you before you realized she was there. You glanced at her and gave her a half smile.
“Y/N, what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself since Sanji left.” Nami asked.
You glance at her then look back at the stars and sigh. You stare forward blankly a moment and before you can speak she opens her mouth again.
“We all miss him, Y/N, but he will be back. Luffy won’t let him go.”
“Yeah.” You say softly. “And this time I won’t let him go... Nami, I think…”
“You have feelings for Sanji? Yeah we all already know, took you long enough to realize.”
You gasp and stare at her in despair.
“What? Does he..?”
“He has no idea, but the man is head over heels for you. As soon as Luffy gets here… let’s go get him.” She says looking at you with a large smile.
When Luffy got to Zou and found you all, he agreed he needed to go after him. You were the first person to say you were tagging along. After a few days on Zou helping the minks and making plans, you head to Whole Cake Island in the hopes of bringing Sanji home to the Sunny. Once on Whole Cake island you, Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Carrot got lost in the seducing woods. Big Moms daughter, Brûlée, managed to trap you in her Mirror World with Chopper and Carrot. While Luffy and Nami set off to find Sanji. Later using a shard of mirror you find a chance to contact Luffy and Nami for an update on their progress. While you were trapped in the mirror world you learn they had found Sanji, and he had beaten Luffy in a fight. He ultimately, refused to come back. You couldn’t believe your ears at the news. That wasn’t the Sanji you knew.
Luffy’s new plan was to wait for Sanji to come to him. You, Carrot, and Chopper continued to work on finding a way out of the mirror world, so you could reconnect with him and Nami.
In a moment of selfishness as your thoughts went only to Sanji, you make a plan to escape alone from the Mirrorworld. You had seen a reflection of Sanji in a nearby mirror and decided to use Brûlée to get back to the real world, through that same Mirror. While tied up, you managed to trip one of her guards causing them to tumble and almost knock over her stew pot. While Brulee was yelling at them for this, you managed to inch your way up to grab something sharp to cut through your rope bonds from a nearby counter. Once freed, you waited for Brûlée to head towards the mirror where you had earlier seen Sanji’s reflection. You looked at Chopper and Carrot and threw the sharp object behind your back for them to begin working on their ties. You inched closer to them.
“I’m going to go find Sanji. Can you two find Luffy and Nami?” You whisper.
“You want to split up? Why don’t we go together?” Chopper whispered urgently.
“If Luffy couldn’t get through to Sanji, I’m the only one who still has a chance. You and Carrot get out of here. Besides, if Big Mom’s family is as big as they say, I’m better off going in alone, less likely to be detected. I’ll take a piece of mirror for updates. Good luck.” You say softly as you eye Brûlée walking towards the mirror you need.
The rabit and train man suddenly turn their backs to you, distracted by the smell of the stew. You hop to your feet and run towards the mirror where Sanji’s reflection used to be. She screams as you grab her wrist and pull her towards the mirror with you. You cross through the mirror, and as you exit, you drop her wrist. Once out of the mirror, you turn around and watch as she stares at you, stunned. The creatures working with her begin to run towards the mirror. As they do so, you grab the mirror from the wall and smash it on the ground.
“Well that may have been a bit loud.” You whisper to yourself.
You turn about the room and notice you’re in a bedroom. No one was inside. Inside the room there was a dresser, a bed, a small table, a few chairs, a kitchenette, and a now shattered mirror. It must be where they were keeping Sanji in the Whole Cake Chateau, you thought.
You find a nearby door of a closet and jumped inside. You wait a few minutes, but no one enters after the crash of the mirror. You exit the closet and re-examine the room.
You weren’t sure where Sanji was or when he would come back. You decided your best bet was to hide behind where the door swung open, just in case an enemy entered. About 30 minutes later Sanji entered the room, alone. Upon entering the room he stared at the storm brewing out the window by his bed. You let the guards that escorted Sanji to his room exit and shut the door fully before you acted.
“Sanji.” You whispered.
He gasped nearly dropping his cigarette as you called to him. He turned around and there you were. You were wearing a short sleeved white ruffled dress, the top of which, emphasized your breasts and showed some cleavage. The bottom of the dress cut just below your ass and had a pink apron over it. It was a bit tattered after your fights in the seducing woods and in the mirror world.
You stepped forward towards Sanji and his body tensed. You continued towards him and buried your face in his chest. You gripped at his shirt and began to sob. He immediately clamped back down on his cigarette and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you in for a deep embrace and paused to smell your hair. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled you arms length away from him. He stared down at you in disbelief, but you weren’t ready to look at him.
“Y/N. What are you doing here? I told Luffy I wasn’t coming back.”
You finally looked away from his chest and stared up at him with tear filled eyes.
“Sanji. I won’t let you go. I… I need you.”
“Wha..” He stuttered out.
As he did so, his cigarette hit the ground below him. Sanji quickly realized this and stamped it out before the carpet got set alight. He never let go of your waist as he did so. Once that situation was handled his gaze returned to you. Your eyes glistened with tears and you took a deep breath.
“I didn’t believe Luffy. I had to hear you say it yourself.” You said as you move your hands to his arms.
He stared at you a moment with his teeth clenched. He looked down at the floor where his cigarette laid, burnt out.
“Y/N. Im sorry I lied to you all about who I was. I’m sorry you came all this way for me, but I’m marrying Pudding tomorrow. She wants to marry me and I think I’ll be happy with her. There is nothing Luffy or… you… can do to stop me”
Your hands dropped down from his upper arms to rest on his forearms and your head falls.
“Even if I told you..”
Sanji’s body tensed against your hands. He stared down at you intently.
“Even if I told you I loved you.” You reply as you stared intently at his chest, taking a moment to get the words out before you glanced up at him.
He grunted in surprise and stared at you blankly. He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Y/N. I love you too…”
He looked down at you and you raised your head to look up at him. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled.
“You’re incredible Y/N-swan and you’re unbelievably beautiful… but…” He said as he closed his eyes and sighed again. “Hours ago I would’ve done anything to hear those words… but now… I can’t… I can’t leave. I have to see this through.”
“Why?” You said as you griped his shirt sleeves tighter.
“For your safety!” He said as he pulled you tighter to him.
“I can protect myself!”
“Not against this… you, Luffy, Nami, Zeff, everyone. None of you are safe. My staying keeps you safe.”
“I don’t care. We are strong, we don’t need you to save us!” You yell as you looked deeper into his eyes.
“You’re strong, but not enough for this…. Y/N you have to go.” He said as he pulled you into a tight embrace.
He planted a kiss on your forehead and held you tight against his chest a moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him back.
“If you really love me, you’ll let me go. You’ll help Luffy become King of the Pirates and make sure he and the crew stay fed.”
You nod your head against his chest. You squeezed him tight one more time, then pulled back. You placed your hands on his chest and lifted your head to look him in the eye one last time.
“Sa…Sanji… if this is really it. Then…”
He looked at you, and softly smiled. He caressed your check a moment and slipped his fingers under your chin. He tilted your chin up and kissed you. His lips were soft and tasted of cigarettes and vanilla. He was gentle at first, but his passion quickly grew as both of remembered this would be your first and only kiss.
You moved your hands behind his neck and curled your fingers in his hair, pulling him deeper into you. His tongue began to stroke your lips and you opened wider, allowing your tongues to dance together. Next, You pulled a hand from his hair and began to slide it down his chest, pausing at his peck to push him away from you. You looked down at where you and his feet meet and slowly trailed your eyes up his body to meet his gaze. You stared at each other in silence a moment before you began to speak.
“Sanji… just once… I need you.”
Your gaze darted to his lips, then back to his eyes. A small drop of blood came out of his nose as he stared at you, wide eyed. You chuckled and step away from him to grab a tissue off the table. You returned and wiped his nose, setting it on the table beside you. Once you had, Sanji grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you back into his chest, placing his lips back against yours.
He kissed you more intensely than the first time. You began unbuttoning the buttons on his dress shirt as he started kissing and biting down your neck. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you began licking and kissing down his chest and abdomen. At the same time, your hands slowly traced their way down his abs to the hardened bulge forming in his pants. His head fell back and he moaned as you clawed at the fabric of his pants.
“No princess, I should take care of you.” He said as he reached down to pull your lips back up to his.
You shook him off and began unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. You paused during this, to kiss and lick right above his waistband before you tugged his pants down. You watched as his erect length flopped out and slapped your chest. His pants fell to his feet and you looked up at him with a smile.
“And I want you to drip down my throat first.” You say with an eyebrow raise as Sanji swooned.
You dropped to your knees in front of him and his erect length. As you did he pulled his shirt off his shoulders and looked down at you with a loving smile.
You gently placed your hands on his knees and kissed up his legs to his length, slowly moving your hands up as you went. You leaned back and wrapped your hands around his length. One hand wasn’t enough to hold it all. You raise your eyebrows with a smirk and look at him when you realize this, placing a second hand around him. He grunted as you began to lick his pink tip with your tongue. You moved one of your hands to play with his balls while you teased his tip a few times. He began to moan and claw at your hair and neck. You smiled against him, then moved your hand from his balls back to his length.
You dropped your tongue back into your mouth and allowed your lips to spread wider. You gently pushed your mouth forward allowing your lips to swallow his length. He moaned as it slide fully into your mouth. You began bobbing your head against his length, gradually taking more and more in your mouth with each entrance.
Sanji couldn’t take it anymore, his hand moved to grip the back of your head and his hips began to undulate against your face. You smiled against his hard member and shifted your hands to his ass. You moaned as took control the pace and amount being shoved down your throat.
“Taking me beautifully, Princess. Going to cum..”
You smiled and tried to nod, but his pace was too quick. Your eyes started to water. You felt his length begin to twitch as he slammed his member against the back of your throat. You moaned as he repeated this once more. His seed shot down the back of your throat and he began to pant. He pulled his cock from between your lips and you swallowed. You stick out your tongue and showed him it was clean.
“Fuck, Y/N. You’ve never been as beautiful as when you were just taking me. You’re a goddess.” He replied looking at you as you got back to your feet.
You smiled, then turn your back to him and pointed to your zipper. His eyes widened as he reached for it. He unzipped it slowly, taking the time to kiss down your shoulders and back as unzipped. He pushed the sleeves off your shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor in front of you. He embraced you from behind and began playing with your breasts. He squeezed at your hard buds with one hand and trailed his other down to your underwear. He carefully pushed your panties to the side and started feeling between your slick folds.
“This wet for me already, princess? What’s daddy to do?” He asked as he continued rubbing your folds and squeezing at your nipples.
You moaned and pushed your back and ass harder against his chest and exposed member. He stopped playing with you a moment to push down your underwear. You take that moment to turn around and let him see you from the front. He gulped hard and clearly stopped breathing as he stared.
“Well daddy, do you like what you see?”
Sanji’s eyes went wide and his nose began to bleed again. His arms dropped from your waist and he fumbled to reach for a tissue to clean his nose up. As he did, you sensually sauntered over to the bed and laid back, spreading your legs wide.
“You got one night Sanji.” You said as you flip your hair and sat up on your elbows. “Come show me cooks know how to eat too.” You said with a devilish smirk.
Sanji drooled as he ran towards you and jumped on the bed. He paused in front of your core and stared at it a few moments with delight. He then began to kiss up your thighs towards your core. Once at your core he looked up at you and smiled.
“You’re beautiful, my love. Daddy can’t wait to show you how a goddess deserves to be treated.”
He kissed and licked your Clit. As he did, you laid your head back on the pillows behind you and reached for the bed beneath you. He moved his tongue down to lick at your entrance. Your feet lifted and dropped against the bed at the anticipation of his tongue entering you.
“Sanji.” You called with a desperate moan as your right hand ruffled his hair.
You felt his tongue moving in the shape of what you guessed to be letters at your entrance. His left hand moved and started to slowly rub your clit, the action of which made your body shudder. You felt Sanji’s mouth form a smile and his tongue begin to lap at your insides. Your knees bent inward towards him and he moaned at your taste. He continued circling your clit with his left hand and curled his tongue to hit your spot. He started slow then bobbed his tongue out of you quicker and quicker. You begin to feel heat build in your core.
“Sa—-nnn-ji.”
He smiled again, then moved 2 fingers on his right hand to push in and out of you. His tongue curled at your spot faster and faster. Your hips buckled against his hands and face.
“Sanji!” You moan as your juices squirt on his tongue and fingers.
He began licking your juices with his tongue, but continued pushing his fingers in and out of you as he did.
You moved your hands to your sensitive nipples and began rubbing them as Sanji cleaned you up. Your hips still moved softly against him. You moaned at the touch of his tongue and of your hands against yourself.
“Sanji…. I- need you.” You pulled him up by his hair and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
He nodes and moved his chest up to rest above yours. He placed his arms above yours and began to kiss you. His once again, hardened member flopped on your stomach. You moved your hands to pump it a few times. He moved a hand to meet yours on his length. You let him take over and run your hands up his chest to rest around his neck. As you did, he moved his length to your folds and began to rub it up and down.
You moaned against his lips. He chuckled and began kissing down your neck and chest to your breasts. At your breasts he bit and sucked at your hardened buds.
“Can’t wait anymore, need you inside.” You called as your fingers fumbled through his hair.
“As you wish, princess.” He said as he stopped sucking on your hardened nipples and returned to look into your eyes.
He moved his length to your entrance and kissed you softly as he slowly and gently entered you. He gave you a few moments to adjust to his length before he started to push in and out. He pulled away from your lips and admired the bounce of your breasts for a few seconds.
“My princess, my goddess, is so tight for me.” He moaned as he continued to buck his hips against yours causing his member to go deeper towards your cervix.
“Now that you’re adjusted, how about riding me, princess? I want a better view of those perfect tits bouncing.”
You nodded. He grabbed your waist and your back and you held on to his shoulders. In one fluid motion, he flipped on his back and you were on top of him without him ever leaving your core. You moved your hands to his chest and began rolling your hips, your core tightened around him as you did. He played with your breasts and admired you atop him.
“So pretty. I’m the luckiest man in the world. I could die happy.” He swooned while you got your bearings atop him.
Once you got your bearings you began to bounce on him, moving your arms to his legs for balance. You bounced, slow at first, but quickly picking up the pace. He moaned as he watched you roll your hips against him with your bounces. As his climax began to build he moved a hand to rub your clit, causing the heat in your belly to start to rise.
“Sanji going to cum.” You muttered.
“Me too princess, where would you like me too?”
“Innnsideee.” You begged as your eyes crossed.
You leaned forward on him and quickened the pace of your bouncing, while he pushed on and twirled his thumb over your clit. Your tits bounced in his face, awakening something in him. He moved his hands around your waist and thighs and took over control of the pace. He slammed his length into your cervix a few times and you moan as his length twitched in you. His juices spilled from your core and you moaned at the feeling of wetness on your thighs. You continued to rock against him as he moaned. As you did, he moved his hand back to your clit, rubbing two fingers over it. Your core tightened at the touch, his length twitched a bit more, and your heat burst atop his member.
“Sanji!”
You fell on top of him and both of you panted. Once you’d both caught your breath, you rolled off him and moved to lay against his side. He kissed you softly at first, then he pulled you closer and it became deeper and more fervent. Then, suddenly he pushed you away. He moved to sit on the side of the bed and reached for something to clean himself up with. He then sat there and sighed. You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He placed his hands over yours around his neck.
“I’m sorry princess, funs over.” He said as he kissed your hand and removed your arms from his neck.
He got up and began to get dressed, stopping only to bring you your clothes and something to clean up with. You stared at him a moment then sighed and join him in getting dressed. Once dressed you headed to the door. Tears formed in your eyes as you reached for the handle. A hand grabbed yours and turned you to look back at him.
“Thank you for everything, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more for you. For the crew. I’m sorry I failed you all.” He said with his head tilted down.
You leaned up and kissed his cheek, then headed out the door. He followed you a few steps out the door to give an excuse to eggplant (the guard on his detail). He watched you go and his eyes began to water.
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nor-4 · 6 months
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Taking care of Sick Geto
Geto Suguru x Reader
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"Geto let go I'm gonna pee" You said as you tried shaking geto off, it's been around 8 hours ever since both of you found out that geto is sick.
After that it's like you are trapped in a cage since geto wanted to hug you all day. "Nooo.. Can you hold it for a minute?" he murmured in your chest as he held you waist a bit tighter which makes you wanna take a pee more.
"I'm sweating bullets, it's already hot and you decided to hug me.." You tried reasoning as you try to shake of from his arms, "Not my fault you looks so huggable" He said as he readjusted his arms almost hitting the bowl from the night table that is filled with soup from earlier morning that you made so the medicine will be more effective for him.
Once geto re adjusted you took the advantage to get up from the bed which made the bed rise a little.
You and getou's shared house is not too fancy like those houses you find on pinterest, but sure is cozy and warm that makes you feel really welcome. A type of house that you will be comfortable to have a sleep over with, pantries filled with foods and snacks that geto sure will be nagging about when both of you are out for grocery, those neat looking kitchen that those Asian moms would love.
The living room that kids love because of those consoles and games that geto own, it's a safe place for both of you when all you just wanted was to hug each other while watching.
"I think I'm gonna die.." Geto said looking at you as he was sitting on the floor on the door of the bathroom like a kid as you do your business on the bathroom, "You're not don't worry." You said as you are scrolling through your phone.
"what's taking you so long? Are you shitting?" he nagged you again while giggling, his voice is a bit deeper, more raspy and airy than his normal voice. You always tease him about that because you said that he sound like a kid Justin bieber.
"Maybe you wouldn't know." You shrugged as you wash your self up and flushed the toilet really quick so geto wouldn't even try to take a peak, "Ewww it stinks" Geto acted as he pinch his nose as you walk by.
"Stop acting, you won't act like that later on when you couldn't breath on your other nostril." You said as you headed down stairs to make both of you a meal, this will be the third time that both of you eat. It's very rare for both of you to eat more than three time a day, you guys only did this when either both of you are sick.
Geto followed you like a lost kid as he walk lazily around the house, "I'm not feeling vegetables right now" he complained as he sat down near the stove so he will still be near you.
"Then don't eat, might as well make your cold worse." You stated as you started chopping the vegetables as geto sang lazily to the song you played, it's a habit of you to play music while cooking. Geto remembers the time when he wasn't sick he would dance around just to annoy you or just to enjoy the time with you.
You remembered the time where geto memorized the whole choreo of water by tyla just for you to watch him dance the whole song.
Your mind didn't have the capacity of a phone nor the smartest person on earth. But you remember every detail of it, you remember how much he made you so happy, how much effort he did just to make you laugh after a very busy and stressful week.
"God you're so beautiful.." Geto whispered as you looked at him seeing him looking at you with agape mouth, "I think I should marry you for the 100 times... Noo it's not enough, I should marry you on every chance I get. You know if you are sick, like really sick that there is no other cure than for me to die. I would rather die happy that I get to be loved by you."
Geto said this the time you said yes to him being your beloved of your life forever. He still remembers every detail even the tone he had while saying this, he always have a deja vu everytime he says this it was a good deja ju. A euphoria of the time where he vowed to never make you feel unwanted, unloved or anything that will make you sad. The time he vowed to love you in every aspect of your life, the time he said gratefully that he will love you even as a worm.
"You're being-" you are about to talk but geto keeps shushing you, "Oh girl now let's not ruin the moment." he sassed as you giggled while handling him the plate.
"I'd rather eat dick than eat vegetables all day.." Geto said raising his eyebrows on the vegetables, as you laugh smacking the sickness out of his system.
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uluvjay · 9 months
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Christmas tree farm- A. Svechnikov
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Andrei Svechnikov x fem! Reader
In which you and svech go to pick a tree but he has a little something more planned..
Warnings?; none really, pure fluff, crying, kisses, a bit rushed sorry
Day 8 of my ficmas celebration!
For as long as you could remember coming to the Christmas tree farm with your family had always been your favorite part of the year, and now you get to do it with your boyfriend Andrei.
For the past four years you two have came to the same farm you went to growing up to pick a tree, you’d find the perfect one and Andrei would chop it down for you.
This year you were picking a tree for your first home together rather than the tiny apartment you two had been living In for the past four years.
“How tall are the ceilings again?” You questioned, turning to Andrei
“Nine feet.” He smiled.
“So we can get a bigger one this year?” You beamed
“Yes, you can get a bigger one.” He laughed as you clapped your hands happily and took off towards the taller trees.
Andrei smiled as he watched your frame get further and further from him, his hand tightly clenching around the velvet box in his pocket.
He eventually found you by the eight footers, hand on your chin as you inspected each one.
“See one you like yet?” He questioned, one of his hands coming to wrap around your waist and pull you into him.
“The one on the far left so far, it’s fluffy and the perfect height I think.” You smiled, leaning into his body.
He inspected the tree that you had mentioned, his eyes examining how it had the same fluff as all your trees previous but was just taller.
“I like it.” He smiled.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm, think it’s the one.” He confirmed watching your face as you looked over them all again.
“I think so too.” You smiled.
After chopping the tree down the two of you made your way to the front, netting the tree and putting it on top of his suv before heading back in to get some hot chocolate and walk around the rest of the farm.
“Hey come this way.” Andrei called, his hand wrapping around yours as he lead you to the trees they had lit up for pictures.
“Are you gonna take our picture?” You laughed.
“No I heard they had a photographer here today” he spoke looking around.
“Really? They’ve never had one before.” You spoke a bit confused.
“Maybe it’s new” he smiled and soon a woman approached you two asking if you wanted your pictures done.
“That would be great, thank you.” Andrei spoke as he pulled you into his side and you both began to smile at the camera.
However after the third shot Andrei had pulled away and when you looked over you watched him drop to a knee and pull something from his pocket.
“Wh-what is happening?” You spoke as you felt the tears beginning To fill your waterline.
“Y/n these last five years with you have been absolutely amazing, every year we come here and pick a tree and I want to do that with you forever. I want to walk this farm every year to find you a perfect tree, I want every Christmas with you, and eventually a family of our own. I want you forever, will you marry me?.”
“Yes! God yes” you cried, tackling him into a hug before he could even stand on two feet.
His strong arms wrapped around you tightly, holding on so tight as if you were going to slip away.
“I love you so much.” You spoke as he finally pulled away to slip the beautiful diamond on your left hand.
“I love you more.” He smiled pulling you into a soft kiss.
Cheers from behind you pulled you out of your bubble of bliss, turning around you found your friends and family gathered together. Your parents crying while friends and teammates yelled out congratulations.
Even the ‘photographer’ was behind her camera crying, a big smile on her face as she watched you two.
“You hired a photographer to?” You smiled.
“Had to make it perfect.” He laughed pulling you into another kiss.
“Everything you do is perfect Mr. Svechnikov.” You laughed.
“You’re perfect Mrs. Svechnikov.” He smirked down at you.
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