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babygorewhore · 5 months

Text

Prey

Part one

Part two

After text messages from Rafe Cameron who completely ruined your night at his party, he knows every move you make and asserts his intentions through text messages. This starts a game to see how far Rafe will go to make you his, even if that means threats of punishments.

The horny demon took over with this guys. WC. 4,500

Warnings! Not a ton of plot. Dark! Rafe! Stalking! Panty stealing! Perv Rafe! Idk if she’s considered kind of bimbo because she’ caves in easily or what. Take it as you will. Female and male masterbation! Drug use,threats of violence and actual violence! Gun play! BDSM themes! One use of the Daddy! Choking!Degrading! Drinking! Hate fucking! spanking! unprotected sex! Reader is alternative but clothing is relatively generalized so it’s still inclusive. Damn that’s a lot of warnings.

Two days since your last text from Rafe Cameron. He knew about breakfast with John B. You tried not to check your phone as often as you wanted but the anxiety was hard to ignore. It was so insane. He just decided he wanted you after a bet. Why?

You kept tearing apart your room for any sign of a camera, microphone and you even taped the camera of your laptop for good measure. Maybe if you stayed home, that would be the best. But he knew what was going on. How?

John B asked you if you wanted to go to their traditional bonfire with the Pouges. You wanted to say no but maybe spending time with them would deter Rafe from his apparent need to text you vile things. You’d have a barrier. Surely, he couldn’t scare them all off.

It wasn’t as hot in the evening and you were thankful for that. Sarah gave you an extra pair of flip flops, but she did make sure they were black. You wore them and a black mid thigh dress. It was flowy and comfortable. But it was missing something as you sat down on a beach chair.

You left your underwear at home, on your bed. It was a test. To see if he really was getting in your house or he would go that far. It was a really bold move but you wanted bait him. Maybe if he broke in, you’d have something to report.

“Earth to you-“ A hand waved in front of your face.

“Oh, sorry.” You chuckled and adjusted your skirt. “What were you saying?”

“How are you? Since the whole bet thing happened?” Kie asked and you breathed heavily. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about. Apparently just with the videos disappearing wasn’t enough. “I’m okay. Doubtful I’ll ever swim in a pool again.” You started twirling the end of your hair nervously as time ticked.

No text yet. Maybe this was working. Maybe he was bluffing.

“We’ll kick his ass. Piece a shit picking on a Pouge.” JJ crushed a beer can and glared. “I’m sick of him getting away with it. We need to do something.”

“My brothers crazy. He would probably kill you.” Sarah pointed out and leaned further into John B.

“The fuck he would! He’s just some rich little punk whose never been put in his place.” JJ argued and you started to panic inside.

That was the furthest thing from the truth. You knew Rafe wasn’t just some punk. You didn’t even know him but you trusted your instincts.

“Guys, really. It’s okay. They’re taken down and it’s what I needed. I don’t need protection.” You insisted. God the suspense was killing you. Were you an idiot? Probably.

“Something weird happened today,” John B interrupted, “When I got into the car before her, I had this weird feeling someone was watching me,”

He started but you tuned him out as the night went on. You still didn't mention the texts. You didn’t wanna stir up anymore threats from JJ. You thought about the way he kissed that girl. His big hands roaming all over her hips and ass. It was so wrong for you to think about that considering how much of a dick he was.

But you couldn’t help it.

You were also scared shitless when you closed your bedroom door after you both arrived home, Sarah joining John B. You didn’t want to see that…so you locked your door.

You covered your mouth with both hands when you saw your panties. They were on your pillow and you could see even from here, they were wet and drying on the sides. Your bed was messy, your drawers moved open.

He had been here.

You carefully moved closer, gingerly lifting them. The creamy substance was evident on what it was. He came on it. And from the way it was almost dripping, multiple times. You dropped it on the floor and dug in your dresser.

All your panties were gone. Your mouth was wide open with shock.

You stepped forward, prepared to tell John B that Rafe Cameron broke into his home when your phone finally buzzed.

Frantically you brought it to your face.

“Put them on.”

Oh no. Was he serious? How did he know-there must have been a camera. Where was it?

“Put it on, or I’ll kill him.”

“You wouldn’t.” You speedily responded. Growing angry. How dare he threatened him. Just to get what he wanted in his perverted mind. “That’s a pussy ass threat.”

“Who says it’s a threat? I know exactly where he goes. When he goes. And who he talks too. I know everything about this place. And I know everything about you.”

Chills ran down your spine.

“I don’t believe you.” You started breathing heavier as you clutched at your chest. He wasn’t joking. You knew that. If he was rich enough to afford that house without a second glance, surely he could pull this off.

“You graduated with impressive grades, you’re an only child, you have a habit of reading kinky porn, your parents owned a music store for three decades. John B is your cousin on your Mothers side and you…you’ve only had one boyfriend. Chris. From high school.”

Your knees almost gave out. Everything was true. Not all of those things were even on your instagram. Fuck, not even your FRIENDS knew some of that shit. How did he find out? Did he run some sort of-

“You ran a fucking background check on me?” You typed in all caps, your thumbs slapping on the screen. “ARE YOU INSANE? JUST STOP IT AND DON'T THREATEN JOHN B!”

“Then put them on.”

You weren’t getting out of this. “Okay if I put them on, what then?”

“Lay down on the bed.”

You slithered them on, his cum coating your pussy as you rubbed your thighs together. Maybe it was your own fault with this experiment but he would have done it anyway.

Your back met the top of the covers and you had the image of his leaking cock around the material. Spilling onto the silk and lace. You spread your legs, assuming that’s what he wanted.

“No, you’re not allowed to touch yourself or cum. Not unless I’m inside you with my cock, fingers or tongue. This is just showing your pussy exactly who gets to cum in it. The longer you fight this, I’ll punish you. And I don’t think you’ll like that.”

“Punish me?”

“That’s what I said. If you’re not a good girl, then your little pouge friends are gonna pay. Do you understand me?”

You wanted so badly to tell him to fuck off. “No I don’t speak asshole, I did it. I put them on and now you leave me alone.”

You closed your phone and decided you wouldn’t listen to anything he said. Laying back down, you pulled off the underwear easily and it’s slick smeared on your inner thighs.

You were pent up from sadness, anger and now spite. If he was watching, then you’d put on a fucking show. Spreading your legs, your fingers delicately teasing your cunt and you started circling your clit. You twitched and clenched around the air as your own wetness combined with his. He couldn’t possibly read your thoughts. His muscular arms would hold the headboard as he pounded into you.

You liked challenging him. Secretly, that’s one of the things that made you wet. Talking back to him. Your core tightened as your speed increased before you slipped two small fingers inside, curling them up. They couldn’t reach the spot you wanted. You tried to move at a different angle before settling on just playing with your clit.

You curled up when you came, harder than usual and you bit your lip to keep from making too much noise.

After calming, you hesitated before clicking on your phone.

“Oh, pretty girl. I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

That was all he said.

Now, you were trembling again. The threat echoed. You started biting your nails. What would happen? What punishment was he talking about?

It wasn’t like he would break in with John B here or would he? He wasn’t concerned about your cousin in the slightest.

You took some initiative. If he knew so much about you, you could return the favor. Have something on him.

You googled his name.

Rafe Cameron, eldest and only son holding Cameron’s name after Ward and Rose Cameron’s passing.

Rafe Cameron, under thirty CEO bringing numbers to the maximum within two years.

You sighed, only getting a superficial history of his age and family line. Huffing, you needed more. There was one option. You went to instagram and found his official and only account. Your mouth went dry. His photos consisted of golf yards, parties and two photos of him wearing a suit next to a giant table in an office that looked like it was in the future.

Absolutely nothing. Nothing to go on. And nothing to rub in his face. Of course.

An idea came to you. Maybe you couldn’t find anything online. But you had an entire group of rebels who could tell you everything you needed to know. You smirked. Finally, you could get back at him.

“So, John B, was it…hard to be Sarah’s boyfriend? I mean the war between Pouges and Kooks seems pretty intense.” You sat at the dock while he tackled some sort of contraption, working back and forth between boats. It was a half lie when you said you wanted to go with him while he worked.

But you needed information. You didn’t get a text yet but you knew that wasn’t defeat on his part.

“For a while,yeah. Topper made it his mission to come after me. We got into it a few times, then he pushed me. I broke my wrist. Rafe…it’s complicated.”

You quirked an eyebrow, trying not to look too interested. “How?” For good measure, you played with the end of your skirt. All your panties were gone and you were trying not to shift every five seconds.

“Rafe’s crazy. He used to be this out of control, frat boy cocaine addict and he was,” John B stops moving, “Dead set on destroying us. Came at us with guns. He’s dangerous but now he’s got money. All the money.”

Your heart fluttered. And now, Rafe had his sights on you.

“What about their other sister..?”

“She lives with him. He almost shipped her off to boarding school but I guess she’s his one soft spot. Sarah talks to her sometimes. That’s why I was upset you went to that party. They’re bad people. Stay away from him.” His warning makes you nod.

But would he stay away from you?

A week later, you arrived at the Pouge spot with John B that was even marked by a tree they carved. You carried a cooler of booze as you got closer to the circle but you, John B and Sarah realized Pope and JJ were missing

You were all searching for at least ten minutes now, you called out his name, cupping your hands. “Pope! JJ! Where are you?”

Your converse were getting in the way of the sand and you finally stopped being stubborn, removing them as you maneuver through the woods. You were alone and it felt uncomfortable.

The moon was illuminating your ring clad fingers as a snap of a branch caught your attention. “Pope?”

A large strong hand covered your mouth and you eyes widened, you were being yanked off the ground and carried off. “Mm-he-“ You tried to form words but the hand pressed harder. You kicked, flailed but to no avail.

The assailant dragged you off to a darker corner where you saw a unconscious Pope and JJ lying on the ground as you were pushed against a tree.

Rafe stood in front of you, even in the darkness you could still see the desire and anger in his eyes. “Scream and I’ll kill them.” He growled. “Can I trust you?”

You nodded rapidly, glancing between him and your friends.

“Good girl,” He approved, his hand sliding to your throat. He didn’t even bother wearing black to blend in. His beige shirt was layered with another light jacket and dark jeans.

Rafe’s hair was in his eyes and he leaned in closer. “I told you. I’d punish you if you didn’t do as your told.” Your core fluttered. You knew it shouldn’t but his voice was rasping as his hand tightened. He pulled something out of his pocket.

A pair of red panties. He shoved them into your mouth, far enough you gaged. “Stay fucking still.” You knew if you didn’t listen he would hurt them, he proved that.

Pope and JJ had bruises, swollen eyes and bloody noses. But they were breathing. You started jerking around, trying to gain some sort of release from his hold when Rafe yanked out a gun. You gasped, the sound muffled. “Yeah? You see that?” He pointed it at them. “Do you think I’m kidding?”

Rafe pulled out the panties, a string of drool escaping from your mouth. “Answer me.”

“No-I know you’re not kidding.” Tears came from your eyes but you tried to pull them back.

“My poor little angel, not so tough now, are you?”

“Fuck you-“ Another attempt to defy, fake like you weren’t as scared as you truly were. “You’re bluffing.”

He pressed you harder against the wood. His iron clad muscles pinning you hard enough it hurt. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” Then he moved the gun between your shorts. Grazing against your jean covered pussy.

“This is fucking real, princess.” Rafe started smirking. “Move around a little bit. Give me a hint of how well you can bounce on a dick.”

Your face became hot but you obeyed without thinking. You circled your hips, holding your breath and praying the gun wouldn’t go off. He nodded, his lips nearing yours and your mouth parted.

“Rafe-Why? Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this?” You whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot of your neck. They were warm and soft in contrast to the gun rubbing against your pussy.

“Because you’re mine. That first day I saw you. I was going to have you. John B couldn’t hoard away something that belonged to me.” You wanted to shake your head but he started sucking the connection between your shoulder and neck.

That’s why he stared at you. That’s why he even started the bet in the first place.

“I liked how you stood out with your fucking band shirt and converse you won’t stop wearing. And this,” He pulled back to your displeasure and tapped the gun against your cunt.

“That belongs to me too. I’m gonna walk away, you’re going to yell to your cousin you found them. Feel free to scream and pretend you’re not soaking wet. And you’re going to be a good girl again, aren’t you? You gonna to listen to daddy?”

“Yes.” He stepped away, taking your panties with him. He scanned the scene, nodding behind you.

“Don’t disobey me. This can get so much worse,” With his final warning, Rafe started walking backward before he disappeared.

You waited a few seconds to collect yourself. He teased you but not enough to make you cum. Just enough to mark his territory and scare you.

“J-John B!” You weakly called out. “I found them!”

He arrived in seconds with Sarah right behind him.

John B, Sarah and Kie panicked, trying to wake JJ and Pope. You hastily wiped your face and shook your hair loose.

“I-I just found them like that. I’ve been searching the whole time,” You lied, hoping your voice was steadier than how you felt.

You stayed quiet as they woke by the fire. Your knee bouncing as flashbacks of how the gun felt, Rafes lips. His warnings and worse. How much you liked it.

When no one was looking, too busy planning their wild accusations downfall, you took out your phone. He had texted you.

“Behave.”

You pressed your knees together, concealing your phone behind them. “What will it take for you to leave them alone?”

“That’s a dangerous question, little girl.”

You had to change your tactic. The last thing you wanted was for him to actually shoot them.

“When will I see you again? I don’t want you to break in anymore. If you want something, just take it.” Oh no, the words slipped out before you could even think.

Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes went by.

An hour.

“Tomorrow. My house. 8pm. Wear what’s in the box in your bedroom. I’ll have someone pick you up.”

The tense drive home couldn’t have ended sooner as you stepped in your bedroom. Continuing to lie to your cousin about what happened in the woods. You knew he wasn’t stupid. Eventually he would catch on that something was happening. But his life probably depended on it. This was going too far.

You were so stupid for opening the white small box on the center of your bed.

Lifting the lid, your eyes widened as you pulled out a black lace shirt, matching bra, a thong and shorts that would barely cover your ass. Knee socks and connecting garter belts. But the most toe curling item in the box was a pair of black handcuffs. Expensive kind.

You held them to your chest. You’d have to wear something over them to get past John B. Your conscience fought you, insisting to tell John B. Rafe almost killed his friends.

But he felt so good. It was so wrong that it was right. You almost didn’t care right now. He was obsessed with you and you weren’t any better. The way you spent time trying to find information, the way you listened to every word he said. He was breaking you down. You almost didn’t recognize the person you were when you arrived.

Rafe Cameron was intoxicating and you’d only seen him twice.

Third times the charm right?

He had his own personal fucking driver pick you up the next night. You left when John B was passed out in his room, worn out from a day at the docks. You slipped on an oversized black shirt long enough to hit your thighs as you climbed into the car. You were disappointed that there were no texts today but you had a feeling he was going to make up for it. Or else you’d face another punishment.

The drive was quiet but when you arrived at his house it wasn’t. Another wild party scene was before you, the same changing colored lights on the outside and consistently bright on the balcony. As you got out of the car and started walking, this time wearing your high heels. Only this time you were wearing a hand selected piece from the King Of Kooks.

You hoped you could slip in easily through the front door silently but someone opened the door. He was shorter than Rafe, dark brown hair, wearing a wife beater and shorts. “My bad, come on in.” He ushered you in with a wave and you cringed.

Obviously he knew you. Whether from Rafe or the videos.

“And you’re…?”

“Just like Country club not to mention anyone else. Barry.” He gave you a nod. “He’s up there.”

You couldn’t help but shiver as everyone was dancing, drinking and making their way to the outdoor pool. You understood this could be another set up.

Barry dipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a bag full of cocaine, apparently offering you some.

“I’ll pass,” You declined and forced yourself to smile and calm your nerves. You could do this. You had too

You wanted too.

Climbing the stairs in high heels was difficult enough but fighting a crowd made it even harder. You couldn’t hardly concentrate and you had the urge to plug your ears to muffle the noise.

Once you reached the top, close to the balcony, your phone buzzed. Embarrassingly, you yanked it out of your clutch.

“Colder.” You jerked your head around, looking for any sign of him. No one. He wasn’t here. No one looked even close to him.

You went left towards another lounge, peering inside the darker room where they were dancing.

“Even colder.”

Okay, you were very clearly not in the right direction.

But you needed something to give you a boost. Marching towards a brunette young man holding two cups, you reached out your hand. “Can I have that?” He stammered but handed it over.

Without even knowing the content, you gulped it down before gagging. Whatever concoction was strong and had you coughing.

But then you took the other one. “Hey!” He protested but you ignored him, going to the opposite side.

You threw them both on the ground, a surge of electricity going through your veins.

“Warmer.” It said when you fished out your phone from your bra.

You resisted wiping your mouth, not wanting to ruin your makeup. Your legs carried you down a hallway, the noise growing into a quieter thump against the walls. There were no photos. Almost no signs of living if you imagined the guests gone. The clacking of your shoes neared the first door.

“Hot. Almost there.”

Swallowing, you walked past the second door.

“Hotter.”

You breathed like you were blowing out a candle as you drew to the third door.

“Open it, pretty girl.”

The alcohol must have given you an extra boost as you opened the door roughly, your lips forming a natural pout as you took in Rafe standing beside a bed. He was wearing a three quarter length white shirt with small strips and the same dark jeans as he did in the woods. His hair was messy, like he constantly ran his fingers through it.

His entire body radiated danger, lust and control.

But his eyes held a fire, one you were terrified and eager to provoke.

To the right of him was a large desk with several monitors and a laptop. Your mouth parted into a gasp when you saw they were all live feeds.

One of them was outside your room, the others were at the docks and the rest were of his own home. That’s how he was watching you.

“You-you’ve really been stalking me.” You whispered.

“It’s really not that hard. You make it too easy.” He mused with a low voice. “But I’m-I’m having a hard time understanding why you’re wearing something other than what I gave you.”

“Don’t change the subject, Rafe. This isn’t okay. You’re going to stop. I did everything you wanted. Now you leave John b and the rest alone.” Your voice wasn’t steady. From nervousness and the drinks.

And he knew that from the way a smirk formed on his pink lips. “But not you?” He clicked his tongue. “Naughty girl. You don’t want me to leave you alone. I didn’t forget our last…meeting.” His eyes lingered around your hips. “With a gun to your pussy.”

“No, no, stop. I don’t know-I don’t like you.”

Rafe only stepped closer, inching towards you. “Your body does.. Your pussy love our little games. You’ve had so many chances to run. Not that they would work-“ He chuckled darkly. “But you’re doing everything I want you too.”

His hand shot out and ripped the shirt in half. You shrieked, your legs almost buckling as your body was exposed. Rafes breathed in the scent of your perfume as he roamed with his fingers the lingerie, his palms falling to your tits, squeezing before he gripped your waist and spun you around. Your ass against his cock.

“Move like you bounced on my gun,” He ordered against your ear, his warm breath and you could feel his lips trace the side of your jaw.

All your thoughts disappeared as he guided you to grind against him, your pussy dampening the material as your eyes drifted shut. His own breathing quickened as your hand flew behind to palm him.

“Dirty slut, you’re so scared but I know you’re fucking dripping.” He was so tall that he could slip his hand easily between your legs and gather the slick leaking from your center. He then shoved it in your mouth, forcing you to suck.

“That’s all fucking mine, I don’t care if you hate me. I want you to fucking hate me. You like that I stalked you. Watch you, that I know everything.” He was growing more aggressive as he threw you face down on the bed, ripping off your shorts, he slapped your ass hard enough you jolted.

You heard his belt and pants drop as he manhandled you, wrapping your hair around his free hand as you felt his dick line up to your pussy. “Say you hate me,” He spat and slammed into you without warning.

You almost screamed from the stretch and fullness as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t even breathe from the hold he had on your hair, as you started rubbing your clit. “I-“ You tried, barely managing to squeak.

“Say it!” He yelled, slapping your ass again and you fell on your hands.

“I hate you!” You gasped for air and he pushed your head down. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Your core clenched around him as your stomach tightened, you were so close, so fucking close. Rafe moaned deeply, his movements slowing but still brutal.

He spilled into you and you came right after. Sweat dripped from your face as you jerked. Your mouth was still open, spit gathering and you wiped it off. Your breathing slowed as he pulled out, releasing you to flop on the mattress. Your makeup stains the white comforter.

Trying to calm down and assess the situation you got yourself into, you heard Rafe clear his throat in an expected manner.

You crawled around as he pulled up his pants. “I hope you liked that, because that’s the last time you get to cum tonight.”

“W-“

“You forgot to bring the handcuffs.” You almost fainted. Half from being cock drunk, still spilling from both fluids and half from horror.

Rafe only gave you a very threatening smile. “But don’t worry. No one is getting through that door. And besides, even if they tried, I can see every move they make.” He pointed to the monitors.

“I’m nowhere done with you yet.”

Tagging @scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @daivny @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @chrrymunson @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch

Please let me know if I forgot anyone! Comment if you wanna be tagged in future Rafe or all my fics!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron x female reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #outer banks #outer banks smut #rafe cameron fanfiction

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ddejavvu · 9 months

Note

dbf!spencer x hotchs daughter!reader 👀

the team (+ families) over at rossis for a cookout and pool day and reader just got a brand new bathing suit, and spencer cant take his eyes off of her. 🥵

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters; reader is an adult), minors dni.

You're showing off your new bathing suit to Emily, which gives Spencer a good reason to ogle you. After all, he's just listening to what you're telling her.

"The size I tried on at first was too big," You lament, hands motioning to your chest, "But I had Penny bring me a size down, and this one fits much better."

It fits perfectly. It hugs your chest tightly, though it doesn't look painful, just snug. The black fabric slopes down your stomach and your hands smooth it down your waist, "And there's this cutout in the back, see-?"

You turn, showing off the broad expanse of your bare back. It's skin Spencer rarely sees exposed, and his teeth work at his tongue like he's trying to bite right through it.

"Isn't it so cute?" Penelope appears beside Spencer, knocking him out of his trance. He readjusts his grip on his drink to take a sip, mumbling an, 'Mhm,' to Penelope.

"I helped her pick it out," She brags, and Spencer sends her a tense smile.

"You did a good job," He promises her, "It's a nice color on her."

"Isn't it! She was going for red at first," Penelope divulges, and oh, Spencer's pants feel tighter all of a sudden, "But the only one they had was three sizes too small, she would have been spilling out of it."

The soda can Spencer's been nursing crunches as his fist clenches.

"Woah, hulk," Penelope eyes Spencer apprehensively, "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine. I need the bathroom," Spencer excuses himself, and it's not a lie. He just so happens to choose your bathroom, hoping someone's occupying the downstairs one so that his alibi holds up.

You hadn't been expecting anyone to use your bathroom, so it's sloppy, but Spencer doesn't mind. It's quite the opposite, really, when he finds your lacy red thong discarded on the floor. Hopefully you won't miss your panties now that they're tucked snugly into his pocket. He's sure you won't even notice, after all, maybe you hadn't even realized you'd dropped them in the first place.

Three hours later, when the guests are gone, and you traipse upstairs to take your nightly shower, a sick smile grows over your face as you find your bathroom floor devoid of red lace. Spencer had taken the bait, had snatched up the gift you'd left laying out so nicely for him, and the showerhead is going to come in very handy while you fantasize about how he's using your present.

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eddiemunsonssoulmate · 2 years

Text

Say you'll still be by my side

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Eddie made it out of the Upside Down, barely alive. He’s in a coma now but you refuse to let him go.

Warnings: Hurt & Comfort, Fluff, Trauma, Scars, Light Angst

Available on: AO3

A/N: Another Fix-It but this time with the reader taking care of him. The Duffers have to pry him off my cold hands if they want me to let him go because there’s no way this is happening any time soon. Hope this gives you as much comfort as it gave me while writing it. Eddie is alive and I accept nothing else.

“I can’t believe we did it!” Robin said and hugged you while your eyes were fixed on the bloody ground in front the villa. Was that really it? That…easy?

You hugged her back, but your mind was already wandering towards the two people who were supposed to distract the bats. It must have worked because you didn’t see a single one.

“Let’s get back to the others quickly,” you suggested and she let go of you, your eyes finding Steve’s and he gave you a nod.

There was this feeling in your stomach and a painful tug on your heart. The four of you quickly made the way back to the trailer.

They would be fine. They promised they’re not heroes, promised they’d run as soon as it got bad. You would have stayed with them, but Eddie absolutely refused to let you join the ‘Bait Party’ how he had called it.

He had been the bait and yet, he had been so worried about you.

Letting go of his hand as you split up had been the hardest thing you had done in your entire life.

As the trailer park came closer, your steps became faster without even realizing it until you broke out into a full jog.

“Y/N, wait!” Steve yelled after you, but you didn’t hear him. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt sick in your stomach.

As you broke through the tree line, you could hear someone crying and your stomach dropped. You looked around frantically until you saw Dustin, holding someone in his arms.

No.

You sprinted over to him. “Dustin! Eddie!”

He looked up at you as you basically fell to your knees next to him, his eyes red and puffy, tears straining his face.

No. No. No.

Eddie was in his arms, not moving, blood covering his face, the bats lying dead all around them. His body was covered in bites and scratches, his clothes were painted in red and it made you so, so sick.

“No,” you whispered in disbelief and Dustin wanted to say something but only violent wails came out of his mouth.

You took Eddie’s head and put it in your lap, moving the hair out of his face, wiping the blood of his cheek. It was only a very faint movement, but you felt his breath on your hand. He was unconscious and barely breathing.

“He’s alive,” you whispered, and Dustin looked at you with big eyes, his wails stopping. “We need to get him out of here.”

Dustin seemed to need a moment to actually realize what you said and then nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, he will be fine.” You were convinced of that. You needed to believe that, or you'd break apart right here, right now. There was also no way you’d let Dustin take any kind of blame. He was too young for that.

The other three came through the tree line and Steve immediately came running as soon as he saw Dustin’s face, taking him into his arms and then looking down at you and Eddie.

“Is he…?” he carefully started to ask but you shook your head.

“Can you carry him? We need to get him to a hospital,” you said and swallowed, tears in your eyes. The way he lay there, bruised and bloodied, it broke your heart into a thousand pieces.

Your heart was beating in your chest and despite the anxiety eating you alive inside, you tried to stay calm. Hoping that if you were calm around Eddie, he would feel it somehow.

Steve nodded and let go of Dustin, Nancy placing an arm around the young boy instead to comfort him.

Your friend crouched down next to you, and you tried to lift Eddie up on his back so he could carry him better.

It worked, somehow. You stayed by Eddie’s side the whole time, taking one of his hands in yours. “I’m here, Eddie. I won’t leave you.” It was only a soft whisper in the darkness of the Upside Down but you were sure it would get through to him.

Dustin explained what happened as you were on the way to the portal, and you didn’t know if you were sad, angry, worried or everything at the same time. He wasn’t supposed to play the hero, but you understood why he did it.

The anxiety inside of you made it hard to breathe. He had to be okay.

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

The doctors didn’t give you a lot of hope.

‘If he makes it through the next two nights, he might live.’

Eddie was too strong to die, you were sure of that. He couldn’t. You needed him more than anything in your life. He was your home and your heart and there was no way you’d let him go.

They warned you the hospital costs were high, especially for a criminal like that and you wanted to punch them in the face right there. Nancy was already on it, talking to the government about making the murder charges go away.

The medical costs were something you would worry about later; you’d pay them on your own if you had to. Your parents would understand. Hopefully.

In the end, he was in a coma to let him recover from the blood loss and so he wouldn’t feel the pain. The wounds weren’t deep but there were so many of them. Attacked by wild dogs was the excuse. The doctors looked like they didn’t believed you but you couldn’t care less, they would never understand.

This town was fucked anyway.

Your days were filled with visiting him at the hospital. After Vecna had opened the portals through Hawkins, everything was a mess but all you cared about was him and Max. Every time you went to get a coffee, you also checked on Max who was in a room nearby.

She had always been like a little sister to you, especially after losing Billy, but you couldn’t split yourself apart, so you were thankful that Lucas was here for her every day.

At the beginning, the nurses kicked you out at night. No visitors allowed bullshit. Sometimes you sneaked back in. After Eddie was declared innocent, thanks to the whole government relationships you had, the nurses accepted you here around the clock. They know they couldn’t keep you away.

Suddenly it was okay. It made you angry, but you didn’t want to project any bad energy to Eddie, so you always swallowed your anger when you entered the room.

You were always holding his hand, letting him know you were here. You talked to him, sang to him, playing his favorite songs after basically bringing all his cassettes that were intact from his trailer. Sometimes you read to him from your favorite book, the one that he wanted to read just because you told him it was your favorite.

You told him a lot, about yourself, about your friends, about what was happening in Hawkins. All you wanted for him was to wake up and you had heard talking to a person in a coma would sometimes trigger something in them.

There was not a single day that passed where you didn’t tell him you love him. Placing kisses on his cheek, his forehead, his hands but you never got a reaction back.

He just lay there, eyes closed, his body bruised and battered and sometimes you weren’t even sure if he was still breathing. It hurt so much and it felt like a part of your soul was missing.

You frequently brought him flowers, sometimes you bought them, sometimes you just picked them randomly. It was important for you to let him know that someone had been here in case you weren’t present when he woke up.

You had no doubt that he would, one day.

Every time the nurses changed his bandages, you stayed in the room even though they always told you to get out. At this point you could probably change them by yourself from watching them so much.

The wounds were bad and nasty and some of them were even infected. They looked disgusting and would for sure leave some scars all over him. Nothing compared to the little scars he had before from falling off a bike or getting into a fight with someone.

Every time you saw the bat tattoo on his arm it made you sick. He really needed to get that replaced at some point, so you asked the nurses every time to cover it up with the bandage. They did it and you were grateful for that. You were sure if you had to look at it for too long, you’d break down crying.

Twice a week you shaved his beard, the small stubble that was growing. You knew he didn’t like his beard, so you made sure he didn’t wake up with one. One day, you’d ask him why he didn’t like it, he hadn’t told you yet and the curiosity has always been there. You assumed it might remind him too much of his father.

“Please, wake up, I need you.”

It was the plea that followed you through your everyday life now. You needed him so much and not hearing his voice was breaking your heart. The rare times you were at home you listened to the mixtape he made you where he had recorded himself singing songs that he had written for you.

It was the only way to hear his voice at the moment. You didn’t know how long you could do this anymore.

On the day where Hellfire would normally be, you’d bring D&D supplies to his room. You rolled some dice and talked about your characters and new campaign ideas. If he had a list with things he loved most, you were first, his guitar second and D&D was third.

He had promised you to teach you how to play the guitar one day. You kept reminding him of that, saying he couldn’t leave you until he taught you how to play Master of Puppets.

Days became weeks and sometimes there was this little voice in the back of your mind that told you he wouldn’t wake up anymore.

Things you didn’t want to hear. Your anxiety speaking.

You wouldn’t lose hope. He would wake up one day and even if it would take years, you’d be here for him. Moving on was not even an option.

Eddie was your entire life; you couldn’t let him go.

Wayne told you that he couldn’t pay for all the bills after so many weeks, but you just shook your head, telling him you would take care of it. At first, he refused but he loved his nephew like a son so in the end, he gladly took the offer.

It took some time to convince your parents as they hadn’t been fond of Eddie before but now with him in a coma and you barely at home, they realized how much he meant to you, so they agreed. Grateful wasn’t even enough to describe what this meant to you.

“You’re going to wake up,” you whispered to him that night. No matter how long it would take. You believed that he was strong enough to battle whatever was going on inside of him. There was no way he wasn’t able to defeat whatever was holding him captive inside his mind.

After you and Wayne, it was Dustin who came by most. The boy felt so guilty about everything that had happened, but you reassured him that he couldn’t have done anything. Eddie would be fine, no matter what. Dustin was too young to take any guilt inside of him.

The two of you grew even closer when you were sitting in the hospital room, talking to each other about your memories of your Dungeon Master. You hoped he could hear how much Dustin adored him.

“Your hair has gotten longer recently,” you told the boy, and your eyes went towards Eddie, then back to Dustin. “Got inspiration?”

Dustin chuckled and looked a little embarrassed. “Maybe?”

It was clear as day that he was growing out his hair so it could match Eddie’s and you thought it was really adorable. Steve was mostly acting like a babysitter and like a mother to Dustin, while Eddie was a big brother or father figure.

Eddie was a role model for Dustin, they were the same in a way and it was heartwarming to watch. You prayed to God that you could see their interaction again soon.

“He’ll wake up,” you promised Dustin and took his hands in yours, looking at him.

“I know. I just wish he already did,” he sighed, and you gave him a small smile. You understood that.

“On the bright side, your hair has more time to grow,” you teased and tugged a little on one of his long locks.

“Oi!” Dustin laughed and shook his head, eyes finding Eddie’s unmoving face again. “I miss him.”

“Me too,” you admitted and turned towards Eddie. It hurt to see him like that. Even after all this time, you couldn’t get used to it.

Spring turned into Summer and while the gang tried to figure out what the portals were and where Vecna went, the town slowly started to believe that it hadn’t been just an earthquake, starting to make conspiracy theories that the government was behind all of it.

But all you cared about was Eddie.

You didn’t give a shit about the town. You barely cared if any Demogorgons came to eat you alive because life isn't worth living without him anyway. All you wanted was to hear him say your name again.

It had been a long day at the hospital again and you could barely stay awake. You were holding his hand, your face on top of the bed and sleep was slowly washing over you. It was so hard to keep your eyes open and the last few months had left traces on your body and mind.

Coming here every day, caring for him, worrying about him, it was physically and mentally exhausting. Some of your friends from school had asked if you were sure about this, that you should take a break and stop completely but there was no way you’d leave him alone. He needed you. No matter in what dark place his mind was in the void of the coma, he wouldn’t be alone.

Your dreams were filled with memories of you and him. Epic adventures during Hellfire. Him and you hiding from everyone at the beginning of your secret relationship. The first time he told you he loved you. Introducing him to your parents and dealing with their wrath. Running away together for a week without telling anyone. The first time he truly made you his.

While your dreams made you smile in your sleep, you didn’t notice the squeezing of your hand at first. Your dreams were deep and beautiful, and you didn’t want to wake up to a world where he couldn’t tell you that he loved you.

“Y/N.” Your name was a hoarse whisper in your dreams, and it made you smile even more. You missed him saying your name so damn much.

It took a long moment for you to realize that it hadn’t been in your dreams. Slowly but steadily, you woke, not wanting to leave the memories of him in your dreams but when you opened your eyes, you saw him looking at you.

At first, you thought this was still a dream. His brown, tired eyes were fixed on you, his hand squeezing yours and he was smiling a little. This had to be a dream.

“Y/N,” he said your name again and as soon as it fell from his lips, you knew this was real. Tears shot into your eyes and immediately started to fall. You couldn’t believe it. He was awake after all that time.

“Eddie,” you choked out and jumped out of your chair, hugging him. He let out a huff of pain and you almost pulled back, afraid to hurt him more but he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest.

“Don’t let go,” he begged with a rough voice, and it must be so hard for him to talk.

“I never did,” you said and buried your face in the crook of his neck, tears straining the pillow behind him.

The way he hugged you told you that it had been the right choice.

As soon as you were able to breathe again and tears stopped, you moved away, looking at his face. He was also crying; his bottom lip wavering and you placed a soft kiss on it.

“I’ll get a doctor. I must call the others. I-” You started babbling and he laughed weakly.

“Calm down,” he said with a soft smile, and you raised an eyebrow at him for a moment before returning the smile. Hearing his voice felt so good, your whole body was warming up and it still felt like a dream.

“I need a doctor to tell me you’re actually awake.” You sighed and placed another kiss on his lips. They moved slowly against yours, as chipped and broken as they were but you didn’t care. You needed his lips on yours. The soft movement of love.

After you pulled away it looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t, so you just smiled at him before leaving, looking for a doctor.

It was the middle of the night, so you had to look for quite some time to find one that was available but as soon as you told them, they immediately went to check up on Eddie. This time, they didn’t let you into the room as three doctors were swarming him, calling it a miracle and all of that.

Bullshit.

Miracles didn’t exist. Eddie was just so strong he got back here all by himself.

Normally you’d call at least his uncle, but he was working at the moment and there was no way to reach him. Your friends would be asleep and could wait until the morning.

Maybe it was a little selfish of you but right now, you wanted it to be you and him, at least for a little while.

The doctors left his room and told you briefly he looked fine, the few tests they did on him were positive and that they would do more in the morning. He’d need a long way of recovery to get back to a normal life but all of that didn’t matter to you now.

He was awake. After months.

When you entered the room again, he smiled at you weakly, and you sat down at your usual spot.

“You should rest,” you told him, looking at his tired eyes but he just shook his head.

“They told me I was in a coma for months. I think I’ve rested enough,” he said, and it made you laugh. Always so stubborn.

“How’s the pain?” you asked but he just shook his head.

“I barely feel anything. They said it will take at least a day for all of it to come back. Can’t wait for the pain.” He grimaced and you took his hand in yours, placing a kiss to the back of his hand.

“I missed you. So much,” you told him. He just nodded, looking deeply at you. It probably didn’t really hit him yet that he had been gone for so long. It must be so weird for him.

“I know.” He was quiet for a moment. “I…heard everything. Well, maybe not everything but a lot. How you were here every day. How you told me some very embarrassing secrets about yourself. How you talked with Dustin.”

Tears were gathering in your eyes again when he told you what you had hoped. He had known he wasn’t alone all this time. You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks again.

The way he looked at you made you weak and God, you missed this.

“Knowing you were here every day, it made me fight even more. I wanted to come back to you, so badly.” Well, there goes your plan with not crying because those words had you bawling.

He looked at you so softly as he raised his arm, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“You made it. You’re back,” you whispered between sobs, and he nodded at you. You didn’t even know if you said it to him or more to yourself.

“It’s going to be okay now.”

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

Everyone was so relieved to see him awake and talking, it warmed your heart. The next day you had immediately called his uncle who came by within a couple of minutes, dead tired but just wanting to see his nephew.

Briefly after that you called your friends and they barely fit into the room, bringing him balloons and flowers and all that shit he would normally hate.

Not now.

Now he was just happy to see everyone alive and happy for him. Well, except Max. He asked about her and Lucas took the time to explain. A pained expression was on Eddie’s face afterwards but then he said if he was able to wake up, she would too. You had also explained to him that the cops were not after him anymore, that everything was taken care of.

In the end, not much changed for you. You were still here day and night and didn't want to leave him alone. You were with him through all the treatments and tests he had to go through. He was always so exhausted at night, but you told him you were here for him, watching over him and nothing bad would ever happen to him again.

During the night he would wake you up from time to time. Not on purpose but it was the way his body jerked, how he whimpered and sometimes even screamed. When you finally asked him what all of that was about, he just went quiet for a long time.

“The bats. They follow me in my dreams. They rip me apart again every night,” he admitted, and you felt like crying for him. Of course, the bats. The trauma was sitting deep in his bones and mind, and you weren’t even sure how to handle that.

The next day you bought him a dreamcatcher and tied it above his bed.

“Isn’t that quite superstitious?” he asked you with a raised eyebrow, but you just stuck your tongue out.

“I chose it with love and love will keep the nightmares away, okay?”

In the end, they did. Or he simply started to come to terms with what had happened to him, but he woke you up not as often anymore and you wondered what he was dreaming about instead.

The first time he was able to take a shower he didn’t want you there and it hurt a little.

“You sure? Do you really want me to get an old nurse instead of sexy me to undress you?” you teased, and he groaned as he was sitting at the edge of his bed.

“I just…” He trailed off, running a hand through his greasy hair and you waited for him to finish, your hands on his legs. “I don’t want you to see.”

“See what?” you asked confused, you were quite sure you knew his body quite well at this point in your relationship.

“The scars,” he whispered and then it dawned on you. He was ashamed of all the bitemarks and scratches the bats left behind. It broke your heart to see him like that, thinking that it was something to be ashamed of.

You took his face in your hands and lifted it, so he had to look at you.

“Eddie Munson. I was here the whole time. I saw the bites turn into scars every time the nurses changed the bandages. I saw how infected they were and how they healed. They’re not something you need to hide from me,” you told him with a stern voice, and he smiled slightly at you.

“But they’re ugly and all over me. I hate them, I can’t even look at them,” he admitted before you kissed him, deeply, pouring all your love into it.

“They just prove how brave you were back then. They’re battle scars and that’s pretty metal if you ask me.” You grinned at him and then put your forehead against him. “They prove that you’re a hero. My hero.”

That was enough to make him get up from the bed and accept your help. You walked with him to the small shower in the bathroom, helping him out of the hospital clothes.

When you got a full look at his naked body for the first time, you realized how bad it actually was. Especially his stomach and chests were covered with bites and tiny claw marks but also his legs and arms, even a part of his neck. Scars that would never fade away.

“Don’t look at me like that, please,” he begged, and you noticed how he was watching you run your gaze over him while leaning against the cold tiles, his legs shaking a little.

“What do you mean?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“With pity,” he muttered, and you slightly hit his arm where you knew there were no wounds.

“I’m not looking at you with pity, Munson! I just haven’t seen your naked body in a long time,” you told him with a wink that made him laugh. “Can you stand alone?”

“I can try,” he replied but it was all too wobbly and not safe enough in your opinion.

It was a split second where you decided to get in with him, fully dressed, just holding him, and washing the places he couldn’t reach.

You made sure to touch every single scar on his body, wanting to show him that you weren’t disgusted by them or anything, placing kisses on the ones that you could reach with your mouth while holding him steady.

You weren’t quite sure because of the water pouring down on you but it looked like he was crying. Your heart broke for him, again. You couldn’t express the emotions that were truly inside of you because that would mean you had to explain your love for him and words were not enough for that.

He had been so innocent in all of this and yet, he had suffered the most next to Max. It wasn’t fair and if Vecna showed up again, you’d personally make sure to rip his head off.

“I need to get this covered,” he said as you walked out of the shower, drying him, and then shrugging out of your wet clothes.

You followed his gaze to his arm where he just looked at the bats and you nodded. He was shaking.

While he was asleep after the shower, you already started to draw a new motive, one that would cover it up well enough and had a meaning to you both.

He cried the next day when you showed it to him and you promised him, as soon as he was out of the hospital, you’d find someone to get new ink under his skin.

Recovery was a long and hard road for him. He even admitted that sometimes he just wanted to give up because everything hurt and he couldn’t do this anymore.

Every single time you reassured him that he had been strong enough to pull out of a coma after everything and he would sure as hell be strong enough to get back on his feet.

Even though he didn’t seem to see his own progress, you did. It was better every day. At some point he was even able to play D&D with you at the small table of his room, out of his bed. It was so good to see him as a Dungeon Master again, but you also noticed how he left out monsters he used to love simply because they reminded him of the Upside Down.

Eddie asked you multiple times how Hawkins looked, and it was so hard to explain to him without him being able to see it. You always said that it looked like hell, but you’d figure everything out and he should just focus on his recovery. Everyone would be safe. You needed to convince him as much as you needed to convince yourself with your words.

You knew that he was afraid that things were crawling out of the portals would hurt him again. He was terrified and you understood that; you would be too after everything he had endured. Hell, every normal person would be.

Weeks into his recovery, he started walking on his own again, without help, but wasn’t allowed to leave his room. Dustin had brought his Walkie Talkies so you could talk to each other whenever you went out to run an errand for him. As soon as his appetite had come back, he had been craving different things the hospital wouldn’t let him eat.

Sometimes it was pizza, sometimes just something small like pretzels. The nurses were adamant when it came to his diet, so you were basically smuggling all the different foods into his hospital room. Seeing how he devoured them with the appetite of a teenager during a growth spurt made it all worth it. It was a good sign.

He had been so slim and weak after the coma, him getting his weight and muscles back was such a wonderful thing to see.

When the doctors finally told him he would be released in a week you were ecstatic for him, but he seemed to be bothered by something.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him and tilted your head while he was just looking out of the window as soon as the doctors left.

“My uncle said he lives in a motel for free because he’s working for them after our trailer got ruined.” He sighed and turned to look at you. “I really don’t want to live in a motel.” A frustrated laugh left him, and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry,” you said and put a hand on his cheek. For a moment you pondered how to tell him until you grinned. “You’re going to live with me.”

He frowned at you, clearly confused. “With you?”

You nodded. “I talked to my parents. You can come live with us, your uncle too. They know how much you mean to me, and they also know your uncle is the only family you have left. He still needs some convincing but I’m sure if you ask him then he’ll agree.”

You saw how his brown eyes turned glassy, tears gathering in them.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said and leaned forward, placing a kiss on your lips. “I don’t know how I deserve all of this. Deserve you.”

You felt the little sting in your heart, despite everything that he did for you and the town, he still didn’t believe he deserved any of the good things that were happening to them.

“Because you’re a better man than you think you are,” you breathed against his lips, kissing him again before wrapping your arms around his neck. “And I love you more than anything, so please stop doubting yourself all the time.”

He and uncle moved in with you as soon as he was released from the hospital.

Eddie lived in your room with you, there was no other option you had accepted.

Wayne was offered the big guest room at the end of the hallway, but he chose the small bungalow out in your yard, not wanting to disturb family life too much, just grateful to have a normal roof over his head. He promised to get himself a new trailer as soon as he had the money, but your parents just smiled at that. They would let him live in the bungalow as long as he needed to.

The first night you shared your bedroom with Eddie was also the first night he made you his again. It was slow and full of love, and it made you cry. In the end, you had to take the lead because it was too much for him, but it was all worth it. Just his hands on your naked skin and him inside of you proved how right you had been about staying with him during all those months. He made you feel so alive.

Afterwards you let your fingers run over all his scars again and again like you had done during the last few weeks too. It had been a slow and long process but now he was slowly starting to accept them. They were a part of him and his history and one day, he’d be proud of them, you were sure.

The next day you woke up early to prepare a few things. When you came back to the room, he was still asleep.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” you whispered into his ear before biting his earlobe softly.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled and turned away from you, but you just laughed, ruffling his hair a little until he looked at you.

“I’ve got a surprise.” A big grin was on your lips and your words got his attention.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up and letting out a big yawn while stretching.

“Remember I promised that as soon as you’re out of the hospital, we’re getting those covered?” you nodded at his arm where he wore a bandage around the bats. He kept the bandage on because he couldn’t stand to see the bats. “I found someone, and we can visit them right away.”

His whole face lit up and he basically jumped at you, tackling you to the bed with joy.

During the whole procedure, he didn’t look at his arm once until the tattoo artist told him that it was done. The beautiful new motive was covering the bats and he had to hold back tears, making you emotional too.

“I love it,” he said and smiled at the inked man in front of him before turning to you. “And I love you.”

“I love you too,” you told him.

As you were making your way back to your place, he couldn’t stop staring at it. All the weeks before, he couldn’t even look at his arm and now he couldn’t take his eyes off.

“It’s fucking perfect,” he muttered, and you smiled at him before taking his wrist, making him stop in his tracks.

“No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you,” you told him, and you didn’t even know why you had the urge to tell him this now. It just felt right. “No matter if Vecna comes back or what the portals are going to do, I’ll always be by your side.”

He smiled widely at you before stepping into your personal space, pulling you into a strong hug. “And I’ll always protect you, no matter what.”

The words were sweet but also hurt at the same time. The last time he protected you and the rest of the gang, he almost died. You couldn’t go through this again.

“Just promise me you won’t leave me behind. The next time I want to stay with you, let me. I don’t want to be separated from you again,” you choked out, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

He winced a little at your words but nodded. You had told him before that you were mad at him for running out of the trailer like that, basically trying to sacrifice his life.

You had told him that there was no shame in running, repeating his words from a lifetime ago.

“We’ll face that fucker together, I promise,” he whispered into the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss there. “There’s no way I’ll let go of your hand again.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t stop the rest of the tears escaping.

You’d love this man until your last day.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #hurt/comfort #canon divergent #fix it

3K notes · View notes

cowboydisaster · 5 months

Note

Allo, Love! This is a prompt for your Christmas countdown. I’m thinking a snowball fight is needed. It can involve the whole gang at some point or just reader and Arthur. Maybe Arthur is grumpy cat and reader pelts him with a snowball and then another one, testing his patience until they end up wrestling in the snow. Then they end up getting a cold and are sick for Christmas. Hosea has to look after them both as they sit miserably by the fire.

Just a thought, no pressure.

🎄❤️

* ˚ ✦ Snowfall * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 1k a/n: sorry that this was late, i was so tired after work last night lol. Thank you for the lovely prompt, it is so cute!!

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: SIX days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

“You see any movement?” Arthur asks, eyes flush against a pair of binoculars, scouting the white hills below for some game to bring back to camp. He's intensely focused, in predator mode as his eyes stalk over the valley in search of prey. He continues following the planes of the hills, seeing only small game. It’s been a tough winter, but you seem to be out of the thick of it by now.

It's a cold day. The ground is covered with a heavy layer of snow, and thick, ornate snowflakes trickle down from the overcast sky, dusting everything in white. The snow makes it easier to spot any tracks, as long as fresh snow doesn't fall on top of them.

“Darlin’?” Arthur asks when you don't respond, eyes never leaving the hills. He sighs, a bit annoyed. You've been very little help on this trip.

His eyebrows furrow, and the binoculars are brought down from his eyes as he begins to turn toward where you were standing just moments ago.

“Where'd you-”

Cold, soft snow pelts him directly in the face, splattering across his nose and eyes. Arthur jerks back with shock, wiping the snow away with his arm, as a harmony of giggles surrounds him.

His eyes meet yours, polar opposite expressions staring back at each other. You're smiling ear to ear, giggling at Arthur's deep set scowl. He grunts and sighs grumpily as he wipes the snow away from his face. The white mare at your side tosses her head in amusement, whinnying lightly as if she’s mocking him with you.

“Really?” Arthur grunts, shaking his head, grumbling, “A goddamn snowball? I'm tryin’ to hunt. Clear as the damn day that you ain't interested in helpin’ out, so if you could kindly knock the horseplay off, I'd appreciate it.”

Arthur shakes his head, turning back around, quietly mumbling, “Jesus.” to himself at your behavior. He resumes the search, locating the spot down below where he had planted bait.

Another snowball pelts Arthur, this time right in the back of the head.

“For chrissakes, quit that, would ya?” Arthur tries to maintain his authority, because he knows that as soon as he cracks a smile, this hunting trip is over. But he can't help it as his frown breaks into a small huff of air, a little laugh escaping from his lips.

You catch the little act, smirking. He's right where you want him now. Before he can even react, you grab another snowball from your hidden stash and whip it at him, hitting him square in the chest.

Arthur looks down at the white circle of snow on his chest, painting your perfect shot.

“Alright, that's it.” Arthur says matter of factly, wiping his hands together before marching towards you through the snow. You laugh, grabbing your pile of snowballs. You're not quick enough to defend yourself, screaming out as he scoops up a pile of snow, balling it up and throwing it right at you. The snowball explodes into flakes of ice upon contact with your arm.

“Arthur!” You laugh, eyes going wide as you see him coming towards you.

As quick as you can, you throw a snowball, but he dodges it quickly. You gasp as he runs forward and pulls you towards the ground with him. The impact is soft of course, blankets of snow to protect you from the harsh ground. Your laughs ring out, and two curious noses sniff the ground above you, making sure you're okay. Jasper and Sugar conclude that everything is alright and then they trot off together, stopping to bump noses and groom each other.

“Reckon they’re sweeter on each other than even us.” You smirk, your eyes following the horses until they trail back to Arthur’s. His blue eyes bore into your own, overflowing with adoration.

Arthur doesn’t reply as he pins your hands above your head. His cold nose lines against yours, lips just centimeters from your own.

“Quit. hittin. me. with. snowballs.” Arthur enunciates every word, beautiful blue eyes staring right into yours, waiting for your promise. You hum, thinking it over, but then your eyes flicker down to his lips, mind becoming aware of the position he has you in.

“Hmm.” You squint, leaning up, brushing your lips against his, “Sorry, Mr. Morgan. Afraid I can't do that. It's too funny.” You smile. He sighs.

“You're a heap of trouble, y'know that?” Arthur sighs.

“I like to keep you on your toes.” You whisper, finally bridging the gap between you two. His hands tighten around your wrists, lips pressing together slowly until you deepen the kiss. Arthur hums against your lips, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

The snow seeps into your coat, but you care none. Snowflakes fall upon you both, dusting you in beautiful sparkling white.

– – –

“Children! Goddamn children, gettin’ yourselves sick as you did.” Hosea ushers you and Arthur towards the fire, sighing loudly as he wraps you in a blanket and hands you steaming cups of coffee.

You had started a cough on Christmas Eve, and Arthur had followed shortly after. Now, on Christmas day, Hosea has been assigned the task of taking care of you pair of fools.

“Thanks Hosea.” You say sheepishly, voice hoarse and cheeks pink.

“Won’t happen again.” Arthur grumbles, eyes cast down.

You and Arthur share a knowing glance.

“Soon as I’m back in commission, it’s on.” You whisper to Arthur, scooping up a little ball of snow from the log you sit on, balling it in your frozen hands.

“Dear girl, I heard that!” Hosea calls from across the fire where he crushes herbs for you both.

Arthur places his hand on your thigh, pulling you closer to him, wrapping you tighter in your blanket. Sitting next to Arthur warms you right up, especially as he pulls you into his side, arms wrapped around you.

“I reckon all we can do now is get better, sweetheart.” Arthur murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola

#divider by cafekitsune #cowboydisaster's christmas countdown #bea's christmas countdown #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #rdr2 community

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starbabyg · 1 year

Text

From the Window | Jack Hughes smut

Warnings; smut, voyeurism (Jack being a lil peeping tom) + also thinking about making this a mini series cause I wanna do different versions of Jack/different outcomes I couldn’t settle on how I wanted this to play out ughh

***

You knew he could see you. Your window was in the perfect view shot from his balcony. With its large window panes and no obstructions, he could see right into your room. But you liked that. It became a habit for the two of you. Jack coming out to his balcony to get a glimpse of you as you changed in front of your mirror and window. This daily routine started one early evening as Jack went out to his balcony to get some fresh air, just to sit outside and look at his surroundings. He watched the street, people walking by, until his wandering eyes landed on your bedroom window, and subsequently you changing looking for the perfect outfit.

‘Why the hell is she changing with her curtains wide open?’ He thought as he continued to stare at you while you pondered if the bra you were wearing went with the top that was over it. Your head titled to the side, holding up a couple different tops before you tossed them to the side. Jack felt like a creep, but he was too intrigued with what he was seeing to stop and go back inside. You shook your head, taking off the shirt. The bra just had to go. You slipped off your bra, making Jack’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush, he couldn’t believe what the hell was going on in front of him. ‘Jesus I’m just like that stalker guy from You.’

It was all adorable to you really, you saw the whole thing from the corner of your eye. The little gasp leave his mouth, the disbelief on his face, the way he was contemplating on leaving because he knew it was wrong. You didn’t know him personally, but you always had a little crush on neighbor boy who lived across the street. You’d see him leave his place, walking down the street only to come back with a sandwich from the neighborhood deli. You would catch him running around the block, sometimes shirtless when the weather was too hot. Would you have been completely weirded out if it were any other guy? Yes. But Jack had pretty privilege and you gave him a pass.

You changed into a lacy bralette, it was cup-less but your boobs just looked so cute nice and snug in it. You decided to play a little game with lurking neighbor boy, who never took the bait and made a move. You gave ‘em a nice squeeze, looking at yourself in the mirror before turning towards the window, looking straight at Jack. You pointed at your tits, mouthing ‘This one?’, before slyly taking it off and putting on a mesh balconette. ‘Or this one?’ Jack just stood there, mouth agape. Was this really happening? Or was his mind just that sick and perverted that his voyeuristic tendencies has got his mind seeing things? He blinked a couple times, trying to wrap his brain around getting caught and put in this situation. You rolled your eyes, what is with this boy? Jack just turned his neck and scanned the street, he was so embarrassed he had to look anywhere that wasn’t your bedroom window. But by the time he looked back, you were gone. Maybe he was just seeing what his gross imagination just wanted to see. He sighed before walking inside, he could never show his face on his balcony again.

Jack plopped himself on his couch and ran his hands down his face, recollecting himself after his sicko self just got caught peeping. ‘I’m a sick sick person,’ he thought before a knock on his door shook him out of his thoughts. “Hello—”, Jack was too stunned to speak, seeing the girl from the window there at his front door. In her hands the two bras that she was trying on.

“It’s you, from across the street,” his voice was meek and his cheeks were rosy. He felt his face getting hot. You surely had to be there to call him out for being a pervert. Probably gonna get a restraining order as well. You’d probably be leaving with bruised knuckles and giving him a black eye as a parting gift. And maybe that thought turned Jack on juuuuust a little bit.

“Yup. Me from across the street. It’s you from the balcony. Enjoy the little show?” You had a smug look on your face, enjoying seeing him all flustered.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to watch me? You know this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you watch me from your balcony,” You perked up your brow.

“It’s not even like that I just happen to–”

“Happen to be watching me as I change? It’s become our little ritual. Don’t deny tradition,” you teased him. “Can I come in?” You didn’t even wait for an answer, you laid a delicate hand on his chest before playfully shoving him out of the way and making your way to his couch. “You know I asked you a question, why didn’t you answer?”

Jack turned around, still confused that this was truly happening and not just a sick dream, “I didn’t know you knew I was watching you. I look like a creep. I’m kind of embarrassed. Like really.” His hand made its way to the back of his neck as he sorely rubbed it, somehow thinking that would diffuse the tension he felt.

“You’re lucky I’ve always had a crush on you, if you were anybody else I would have marched over and cussed you out,” you poked his shoulder, getting handsy with him, “But back to my question, which bra?” You tilted your head to the side and gave him a sweet smile, holding a bra in both hands.

“I–I don’t know um,” Jack went back to stuttering. He looked down at your chest, your nipples prodding through the thin material of your tank top. Ugh how cute he was in this babbling state.

“You need a little refresher?” You slowly took off your tank top, gauging his reaction as you slipped on the laced bralette once again. “Does this one look cute?” As you asked you trailed a delicate finger up and down the valley of your cleavage. You grabbed Jack’s hand, audaciously placing it on your tit. “Well don’t be shy, how does it look? How does it feel?”

Jack gave it a squeeze, “They’re perfect. Really,” he put his other hand on the other one. Jack didn’t know what good deed he did to deserve to be in this position, but he was thanking God indubitably.

“But do they look better in this one,” you took the bralette off and slowly slid on the straps of the balconette before clipping it in the back. Your breasts sat nicely on the underwire, your nipples being fully seen through the transparent fabric. Little lace flowers adorned all around them. Jack just couldn’t take any more of this teasing.

“I think they’d look better in my mouth,” Jack yanked the bra straps off you, enveloping one boob in his large hand and the other going straight in his mouth. Jack swirled his tongue around your nipple before giving it a harsh suck. You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. The pressure he was putting started to make them sensitive to the touch.

“Fuck,” you let out between strained moans, “I never got your name.” Your hand made its way to the back of his head, pushing it as to keep him in that position.

“Jack,” he grunted before moving on to your other boob. “And you?” His tongue was truly something special, with every flick and swish and swirl you were slowly reaching nirvana. Was it possible to orgasm just from nipple stimulation?

“It’s–fuck– y/n.” Your eyes were closed in pure bliss. Nothing has ever felt better for you. This boy was just an angel.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” Jack started to lead kisses down your navel, still squeezing your breasts as to not leave them unattended. After all, they were the star of the show.

You laughed at that, “Cute and corny huh.”

“Shut up, I’m still a little nervous. I can’t believe this is happening all because I got caught looking at you through your window,” he chuckled, giving you a soft bite before tugging down your shorts and underwear. The girls had their play time, now it’s time for mama.

Jack used the pad of his thumb to play with your clit, nice soft circles as he stared at the marvelous sight in front of him, “So pretty, never in a million years did I think I’d get to see the girl across the street splayed out on my couch.” He left a kiss on your clit before diving straight in. The attention he was giving your nipples was directed straight to your punani. This boy was just talented with his tongue. He knew exactly where to lick and how fast to go.

“You’re fucking amazing. I should’ve confronted you sooner if I knew you could give head like this,” you started to grind into his face a little bit, yanking at his auburn locks to gain more friction. If his head were any indication of how good he could fuck then lord were you in for a treat.

“Yeah, you really should have. I could’ve just been fucking you like this everyday,” Jack pulled down his shorts, giving his dick a couple pumps before teasing your entrance. He rubbed his tip on your clit, tapping it a few times before he hastily inserted himself inside of you. At this point you were seeing stars. The way he was hitting the back of your walls, the way he slammed right back into you with each long stroke. You could really fall in love with neighbor boy at this rate. Jack’s hands gripped your hips roughly, using you as something to lean on as his tilted hips snapped against yours. He was drilling you straight into is couch, and you couldn’t help but feel like the ultimate pillow princess with the nasty treatment he was giving you. He looked so sweet and innocent you were surprised at how he fucked you into oblivion.

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” he grunted into your ear before he started leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. Each one given with pressure that would surely leave a mark. Jack sped up his rhythm, giving you that familiar knot in your stomach.

“I–I’m gonna cum. Fuck–” You moaned, gripping his arms and looking Jack straight in your eyes. That look you gave him drove him right over the edge, motivating him to fuck you faster and harder. You tried your hardest not to scream and scare the neighbors, but your mission failed as he hit your G spot. You let out a string of moans as you rode out your high, in a hazy bliss.

“Fuck that was hot,” Jack came shortly after you, the sight of you orgasming doing it for him. “Yup that just solidified my crush on you. Marry me at this point, we can go to the courthouse right now it reopens in five minutes,” he laughed.

“Five minutes? That would make it almost three–oh shit I gotta go,” you remembered the reason why you were getting ready in the first place, you had planned to go to the movies with your best friend. You scribbled down your number on a little note pad Jack had laying around, still topless as you scurried about trying to find those damn bras.

Jack was just lounging on the couch, admiring you in all your glory, still in awe he had his once untouchable muse in his living room. “I think you should go with the lil bralette. Looks cute seeing the little edges poking out from the top and the straps too. In my personal opinion.” Jack handed you the second bra that you were looking for, motioning for you to come closer to him. “Arms up,” he smiled as he placed the bralette over your shoulders and adjusted it so it fit properly.

“Thanks, Jack,” you smiled as you felt his still unfamiliar name roll off your tongue, “Call me sometime.” And with that you rushed out his place and hurried across the street to yours. It wasn’t even five minutes later when you heard the honk of your best friend.

You quickly grabbed your bag and ran outside, still looking a mess from your little rendezvous. Your hair was up in a sloppy bun, no makeup done except for the now smudged mascara around your eyes. You shut your front door, looked up and could see Jack, once again on his balcony, smiling as he inconspicuously gave you a look of knowing.

Your best friend rolled down their window, “Jesus, what the hell happened to you?”

You smiled with a sigh before hopping into the car, “You don’t even wanna know.”

***

Ughhhh I wanna write longer fics but I’m not used to posting on tumblr I’ve been a Wattpad girly for almost a decade now for writing sighhh.

#jack hughes smut #Jack hughes #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes dirty #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #hockey #hockey smut #hockey fic #hockey imagine #new jersey devils smut #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl smut #nhl imagine #quinn hughes #Luke hughes #umich hockey #umich boys

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anama-cara · 5 months

Text

Bargaining

dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Bargaining Masterlist

Summary: You try to bargain your virginity for your family’s safety. Word count: 1.8k

Warnings for full fic: 18 + mdni , Dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe p in v, mentions of STDs, pet names, dark, age gap, survivalism, I do Not condone this. Reader is in her early 20’s, Joel is in his 40’s. Reader’s inner thoughts are in italics. This is my first fic, please give feedback.

“Wait. I can give you something else. My virginity.”

He raises an eyebrow.

---

Joel Miller, the infamous raider, stands before you. He and his band of men control these parts, and they provide “protection” from clickers and other raiders in exchange for a monthly payment. Your household (its just you and your younger brother) usually give them a large basket full of vegetables. But this month something, maybe a gopher or a deer, tore up your garden, eating everything. You had nothing else to give. When Joel’s men had broken down your door you begged them, told them you’d give them double next month. They threatened to take your brother instead, put him to work. And then Joel strode through the front door, filing the doorway with his large form. He wore a red flannel, thick tan leather jacket, heavy boots and tight jeans with his knee cocked out and his hands on his hips.

“What’s taking so long in here? There trouble?” He asked his men. They nodded to you and Joel’s gaze shifted to you. An intense gaze, one that made your knees weak and your chin tremble. You swallowed and pulled yourself together.

“I’m sorry, an animal destroyed our crops. We can forage and plant again. I promise next month we will pay double.”

He shook his head sadly and your stomach dropped.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t go around making exceptions, even for someone as pretty as you.”

One of his men stepped forward and made to grab your brother’s arm. Pretty? Maybe there was another way.

“Wait. I am still a virgin. I’m unused. I have no diseases, which is good because out here if you get sick you could die,” you ramble, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“I’m clean. I’ve never been touched by a man. And I wouldn’t just be giving you sex, or safe sex, or my virginity, I’d be giving you a piece of me, my dignity, my identity, my soul.”

He grins wickedly at that so you plow ahead. He likes to have power, you can read it in his face, so you use it to your advantage.

“I’d be yours, claimed, forever marked by you, by my first time. Yours to ruin. Yours to torment, yours to degrade, yours to fuck, yours to fill. You can stretch me out and when your cum is dripping down my thighs and I am reduced to a sweating, sobbing, shaking mess on the floor - striped of my dignity and humanity, then you can proudly sit back and see your power. How you’ve ruined someone, claimed them, destroyed them, owned them.”

Damn you’re really trying to sell this. He has to take bait, you can’t let them take your brother.

You have his undivided attention, his eyes never left yours throughout your whole monologue. He seems surprised and a little impressed by your unexpected language. Now that you’ve said your piece, finished begging, he breaks eye contact. He shamelessly looks you up and down like he’s inspecting a horse to buy. He says nothing but gives one curt nod.

You loosen a sigh of relief. Your brother would be safe. You turned to face him, you had been standing a step in front of him, protecting him with your body. You knelt down and put a hand on his check. “Go upstairs, and don’t come down till I tell you. Okay?” You tell him softly. He nods silently and heads for the staircase in the corner of the room. You straighten up and turn to face Joel again. There’s something on his face, almost like a sad understanding as he watches your brother leave.

“Alright sweetheart, where do you wanna do this?” He asks gruffly in his thick Texan accent.

Oh god this is really happening.

“N-not upstairs.” Is all you manage to get out. Your mind seems to be going blank with the anxiety and shock of what’s about to happen. When you don’t move or say anything else he just nods and grabs your hand, pulling you from the main room where all his men remain, rifling through your things. He pulls you through a door and into the kitchen. He closes the door and pushes a chair underneath the doorknob, jamming it.

“Don’t want anyone interrupting us.” He smirks at your widened eyes. “You know sweetheart, you sure do have a filthy mouth. Saying all those things.” He’s shaking his head. He finally lets go of your hand to take a step back and look you over again greedily. Nothing soft remains in his eyes now. No, the only thing you see is a predator. His hungry eyes devour you. All the warning bells are going off in your head, every instinct telling you to kick him in the crotch and run. But you know you can’t, because although you know you could probably outrun this big guy, there are too many of them, and your brother is upstairs. So, you take a deep breath, loosen your fists and accept you fate. He notices the little movement. He notices everything.

“Ready sweetheart?”

You give a small nod, still unable to speak. You’re afraid of how small your voice will sound. You will not appear weak in front of him. You hold your chin higher and meet his stare.

The corner of his lips pull up in a wicked grin. “Good.”

And then he moves, and he’s so fast you don’t even know what’s happening until you’re pushed up against the kitchen island. With a broad hand he pushes you down and pins you between your shoulder blades. He’s got you bent over face down on the counter. Your breasts are pressed against the cold granite and your nipples harden against it. He presses into you from behind and you can feel his considerable bulge. With one boot he hooks your foot and slides it out, spreading your legs further for him. You hear the metal clanging as he undoes his belt and lowers his zipper. You don’t turn to look. There’s no need, you know he'll be big. With his cock freed he closes the gap between you, leaning further into you.

Shit. This will be painful.

He's even larger than you thought. You feel his hard cock behind you, pressing against your ass and the small of your back. His head tilts and you feel his hot breath on the curve of your neck. His lips glide over your shoulder. “So soft.” He inhales deeply, smelling your hair. “Mmmm.” With one hand he reaches up and grabs at your breast roughly. He can feel your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. He lets out a low growl and gropes you harder. You can feel his breathing getting faster. He reaches back down to pull your dress up above your ass. It bunches around you hips.

“Hold this sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. You obey, grabbing the bunched up fabric with one hand and bracing yourself on the counter with the other. He pulls back, and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. One hand moves to your hip, keeping you in place. With his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock he notches at your entrances and pushes in half way. White hot pain flashes through you. He’s so big and your body was not prepared for him. He pulls out almost all the way and pushes in again, all the way, hips snapping. Searing pain, he is splitting your insides apart. You hiss in pain.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t say this was gonna be nice for you. Remember this is your payment. Take it.”

He chuckles darkly and slams into you again. You shake your head.

No, no no no, it’s too much.

You can’t breathe. You feel a trickle of blood run down the inside of your thigh. Your hips dig into the countertop and you know there with be a line of bruising left on your skin. You’ll have bruising on the side of your hips too, his fingers are griping you so tightly.

“That’s a good little virgin. So fucking tight. Relax sweetheart. Don’t fight it.” He grunts. “I know your pussy will want it anyways.”

He sets up a rapid pace, slamming into you roughly with each thrust. It’s dry and painful and you hate it. Hate him. But after a few minutes when your body has adjusted you begin to loosen a bit. You still hate Joel, hate this man who runs these lands like he owns them. But you can’t deny that your body has stopped protesting. So you try to drown out the obscene sounds of skin slapping and his grunting behind you. You let your mind travel far away and forget that it is Joel behind you.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you feel a change behind you, the hot breaths on your shoulder blades are uneven and the pace is different, slower and deeper. He lets out a pained moan then pulls out of you, there’s a seconds pause then you feel hot liquid spill over you. It hits the small of your back in ropes and drips onto your ass. He sighs deeply from behind you. You finally turn to look at him. He’s staring your body, satisfaction on his face as he watches his cum drip down you. You whip your head back around before he can catch your eye.

There’s silence as he watches you and catches his breath. Finally, he reaches down and pulls your underwear back up. He takes the dress out of your grip and tugs it down. He runs his hands over your waist and ass, smoothing the fabric and feeling you up. One rests at the small of your back and presses the dress into the wetness there, letting to fabric soak it up and stick to you. He grins.

“Alright sweetheart.”

He gives your ass a smack then lets go of you. You push up and raise yourself off from the counter, resting on your elbows. He says nothing else as he moves to the door, unwedges the chair and opens the door. He looks back at you. You’re still leaning against the counter for support. He eyes your shaking legs, your ruffed up hair, your wrinkled wet dress. “See you next month.”

You’re in shock. That’s it? You don’t move as he leaves and whistles for his men to follow. You don’t move till you hear the front door slam behind them. Then you sink to the kitchen floor.

You don’t understand, Joel is infamous for being violent and cruel. You know that could have been much worse, that he could have beat you, that he could have passed you around to his men afterwards. But he just left. Suddenly you feel grateful. Then you silently curse yourself for it, reminding yourself that even though it could have been worse it was horrible that it ever happened in the first place. That someone threatened your family, that they took something from you. That they acted like they owned the place. You grit your teeth. No, the only thing you’re grateful for is the fact that it’s over. You stand on your shaky legs and reach for a kitchen towel. You call out for your brother, letting him know that they’re gone and he’s safe. You clean yourself up and you hear his little feet running down the stairs. He bursts into the room and flies at you in a hug. “Your big sis took care of it. I’ll always protect you remember. It’s okay. It’s over.” You pat his back and comfort him.

See you next month.

#raider!joel #raider!JoelMiller #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #dark!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #virgin!reader #virginity loss #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #dark joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller smut #raider!joel miller x fem!reader

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crvptidgf · 1 month

Text

Bad Blood • pt. III

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

➸ summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, you find it difficult to let go of the past. Your trauma lies deeper than you think. When when you meet somebody who understands your pain, your journey of self-discovery and healing begins to set sail. For once, everything in your life seems to click.

➸ warnings/notes: reader is of romanian descent, afab! reader, mentions of trauma, descriptions of death and traumatic events, profanity, friends to lovers trope, hurt/comfort, eventual smut (18+), trauma bonding, eventual mutual pining, mentions of the golden trio being dicks for the sake of the story

word count: 2.1k

————————

HALTING MY MOVEMENTS, I felt Mattheo's arm slide away from me. My eyes flicked between his and Ron's eyes.

I steeled myself as I waited with baited breath for somebody to talk first.

I hated always being wary with who I was friends with. No matter if it was a Hufflepuff, Slytherin - whoever. It felt like I always had two sides of myself fighting with each other. I wondered what Hermione thought of me walking side by side with a Riddle.

Merlin. Since when did I care for family reputations?

Ron interrupted the silence. "You coming to lunch with us?"

While I did want to sit with my friends, I also really wanted to go see Enzo again. Theo was a bit annoying, but I enjoyed the other two's company, so I figured I could endure him. My mind was conflicted between my old childhood best friend, and my current friend group.

It didn't help that I was starting to really enjoy being around others like me. Sure Theo was snarky, and Mattheo was a bit cocky, but they understood me a bit better than any of my friends could. Or maybe I was just getting sick of getting left out just because of my house - just because I befriended them too late.

As I've stated, I never truly felt as if I belonged. It wasn't necessarily my friend's fault - but being a Slytherin amongst Gryffindors was hard when everybody blamed your house for the horrors of the war. Sometimes it felt like they were in on some big inside joke that I never understood, and as time went on I realized that I was the butt of it.

To them, I was just a Death Eater waiting to burst out of it's secret shell.

"Me and Mattheo kind of already had plans, sorry. I'll see you guys later tonight though?"

It wasn't necessarily a lie. Enzo did say I could sit with him any time. That counts as having plans, right?

Additionally, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Harry invited me to their common room at the end of classes. They had told me on the train that we should visit each other every week to hash out anything new that's happened in our respective classes. Since we didn't share many lessons together anymore we figured that we should have constant hangouts to catch up.

Hermione eyed Mattheo up, a wary look on her face.

"Yeah. See you tonight," she said before pulling Ron away and walking in the opposite direction of us.

I had no idea why she was acting so strange.

I was about to call them back when Mattheo wrapped his arm back around my shoulder and began to drag me to the courtyard. Laughing, I shoved him off of me as his weight was forcing me to lean over in an uncomfortable stance. A stance that made me have to rest my head against his shoulder - not that I minded.

As we sat down on the grass, we waited for the others to arrive. We all had a double class first thing in the morning, so Mattheo texted their groupchat to let them know where we were.

After thinking for a moment, I decided to ask for their numbers. Specifically Mattheo's.

"If we're gonna make this a habit I should probably have your number," I said as I picked at the grass beside me. My eyes looked at anything but him.

Mattheo was leaning back on his elbows. I eventually looked back at him once he didn't respond, only to see him already looking down at me, smiling.

"If you wanted my number you could've just asked," he said cockily.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned back on my elbows next to him.

"Yeah, I just did."

"Touché," he replied as he sat up. He put his hand out as he made a motion. Taking the hint, I gave him my phone. A moment went by, and his number was already in my phone.

I smiled to myself as I added his contact.

"What are you guys so giddy about?" said Enzo as he sat in front of us.

Mattheo and I glanced at each other quickly before looking back at Enzo. He didn't say anything, so I decided to change the topic.

Lunch went by quickly - it was nice to catch up with Enzo finally. Thankfully for me, Theo was hanging out with some other friends. Blaise and Draco I figured. I liked Blaise, he was nice. Draco, however, was a bit of a dick; although I was a bit biased because I was friends with Harry.

I had Herbology and Charms one after another. It felt different than what I was used to, and I found it hard trying to keep track of all the new things we had to learn. I was glad I chose some other easier subjects like Ancient Studies - I always used to read about Ancient civilizations when I was younger.

It was something me and Enzo both loved.

As I walked out of the class, I began to head down to our second lunch. Since I already spent time with my new friends I made the decision to go see Hermione and the others in the Great Hall.

The sound of my text notification sound alerted my attention. Pulling my phone out, I checked who it was.

- - -

Finally finding my friends, I ran and wrapped my arms around Ginny from behind. She made a noise of surprise before pulling me down to her level and hugging me properly.

"Hey! We missed you this morning," she said.

I smiled at her, hugging her back and resting my arm around her shoulder as I adjusted myself on the bench.

"Yeah sorry I-" I tried to say, but Ron butted in, his mouth full of fries.

"She was with that Riddle guy," he said with a muffled voice.

Hermione slapped his shoulder. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald!" she scolded.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other quickly before they continued eating their lunch. Hermione seemed to sense the tension as she folded her arms across her chest, eyeing Ginny up before looking back to me.

"You should watch who you're friends with," she said.

I all but scoffed at her words. Out of all people I thought they would understand the most. Harry had been judged all his life for various reasons; the Weasleys were poked fun at for having trouble with money - and Hermione had always had assumptions made about her just because she was Muggle-born. Who are they to judge someone based off a family name?

Hermione was assuming the worst of him. She didn't even know him.

Well, neither did I. But I knew he wasn't as bad as people made him out to be. He was incredibly good at potions, he had a sense of humour, he seemed nice...

"Seriously?" I responded.

"She's right, you know," quipped Harry. Of course he agreed with her. He always did.

Sometimes I felt like they were all so much closer to each other than I was with them. In reality, it was quite true . They had known each other since they were 11 - their bond was something unbreakable.

I used to think ours was too, until the summer before college came. Until the Battle of Hogwarts happened; and I saw their prejudice against my house. I would never forget the look in their eyes as they watched me and my house mates get shoo'd to the dungeons - their incredulous looks as I made my way back out to help them in the battle. It was like they were shocked I wasn't a Death Eater all along. The feeling of betrayal never left, but they were my friends, so I stuck by them.

I sighed, standing up.

"Whatever. I just thought it would be nice to befriend Slytherins for once," I said.

Ron made a face, grabbing a chicken wing.

"What would you want with those snakes?" he asked, not realizing his mistake.

My nostrils flared as I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm one of those snakes."

With that, I trudged out of the Great Hall, my heart pounding in my ears. I couldn't even believe what just happened.

Couldn't they just be happy that I was making friends?

- - -

My lips quirked up at my phone as I made my way down the hall, trying to find my next classroom.

At this point I felt like I had learned to just cope with Theo's cynical jokes. I was just glad I still had people to hang out with at school. It seemed like my first day wasn't going to plan - not that I minded.

Now I had time to build my rapport with Enzo.

I truly missed him. I never really noticed how much his absence affected me, but now that we were reunited it felt wrong to just walk away from him. We had a lot of catching up to do.

When dinner finally rolled around I wasted no time in fast-walking to the Great Hall. I ignored the looks from the Gryffindor table, unsure if they were going to be scolding me for sitting next to Enzo and the rest, or offering looks of sympathy for the way they acted earlier.

I didn't really care.

Once I reached the Slytherin table I noticed that a few more people joined us. Pansy and Blaise were there, alongside Draco who didn't really make eye contact with me as I slid next to Enzo.

"Hey," I said, bumping his shoulder.

He smiled at me as he offered to pour me a drink into my goblet.

"You must be Y/N," said Pansy, her elbows leaning on the table as she greeted me with a smile.

She was a bit of a bully back in the day, but she sweetened up immensely once 7th year rolled around. Now that we were in college I assumed she had given up her rude ways; unlike some people who still liked to live in the past - Draco and Theo.

"That I am. It's nice to meet you, Pansy."

Pansy regained her posture as she sat up straight, looking over at Draco. After he said nothing, not even sparing a glance in my direction, she merely slapped him upside the head and rolled her eyes.

This must be normal behavior for him.

As I looked around the table, two absences caught my eye. Both Theo and Mattheo were missing.

"Where's the rest?" I whispered to Enzo so as to not interrupt the conversation flowing throughout the table.

"Oh. They're off somewhere - probably smoking," he shrugged. "Wanna tell me what happened with the Potter gang?"

My lips quirked at the nickname. I had heard my fair share of weird nicknames for the little Golden group of Hogwarts, but that was a first.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Let's just have our dinner.”

I didn't want to bring the mood down by mentioning the fact that my friends thought Enzo and his buddies were bad news. He felt enough guilt as it is, there was no need to bring up bad memories by reminding him that some people still believed they were secretly Death Eaters.

My mind felt stuck. Stuck between my two personalities, my two families. Before all of this Voldemort nonsense Enzo was my only friend - he was like a brother to me.

Sure, Enzo could've grown into an entirely different person now. But in my mind he was still just the scared little 13 year old that didn't want to lose his best friend - and I was still the girl who broke our friendship. All because of a misunderstanding.

I needed to mend our relationship. I needed the closure so that I could finally move on from what happened that day.

Sometimes I could still hear his words ringing through my brain.

"I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."

Shaking my head, I diverted my train of thought back to the feast before me. I just hoped that one day I could look at myself in the mirror and not see regret and fear seeping from my features anymore.

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is-the-owl-video-cute · 2 months

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Hazmat Hole 1: Overture

I went back and forth on whether to do the pilot or not, but ultimately decided not to. Pilots are meant to be an episode 0 that isn’t necessary to understanding the plot. I may go back to it after episode 8 if I’m not completely sick of this.

It starts off with a story book narration about how hell started because Lucifer was a rebel or something and just states very vaguely that he had big ideas heaven didn’t like. Also Adam was the first man, Lilith was the first woman but she didn’t like Adam and liked Lucifer better they fell in love or whatever and Lucifer gave Eve the apple and he and Lilith were banished to hell. I wish I could lie and say I was skipping over details but they used more words to explain that in about as much depth as I did there. Anyway. The important part is that Charlie is a princess of hell as the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith and the angels go down to hell annually to purge excess souls.

These two start off annoying and by god I do not see them getting any less so. Charlie is legitimately the most generic Disney Princess rip off I have ever seen in my life, complete with reading books aloud bursting into song. It’s genuinely jarring to hear her swear because you can tell the voice director basically just told her actor to pretend she’s auditioning for the little mermaid. Vaggie is annoying because she’s written like a middle schooler’s first “strong female character”. She’s the emo love interest in a B movie that was straight to video and made by people who don’t actually know what emo is.

Appropriation Deer is literally just here to make wise cracks and occasionally move in ways that make animators cry and deviantart users in 2010 scream in joy.

They could probably cut the budget in half by not having him in the show. Anyway no he is not here to do anything besides whine about how television sucks and emphasize that he’s only there at all because he’s into watching people fail and cry or whatever. He’s very flat as a character since he’s just there to be tumblr bait.

Angel is here and spends the entire episode being sexually aggressive to the point of making everyone there uncomfortable and that’s the entire joke. That’s it. He’s a gay man who says penis and wise cracks and sexually harasses the men in the hotel. Because that is how vivziepop writes her mlm characters.

We get a two for one easy joke with these two. Haha gay man is harassing a man who isn’t gay as well as haha asexual gets hit on but he says no way.

Angel is here because “crack is expensive” and they don’t charge him rent there.

Which he says while drinking a whole bottle of liquor to establish he’s an addict because vivziepop is as subtle as a bull in a China shop.

And thus we are taken to our first musical number. It’s very underwhelming.

Also Vaggie sings like she’s getting over a cold and plugging her nose and trying to do an impression of a duck.

The opening number also leaves me with a perplexing question. Can you die in hell? Do you go to super hell if you die in hell?

And we get our first real sexual harassment/assault joke from a giant slug flasher trying to make Charlie touch him in the middle of a musical number. I’m sure this bodes great for how angel’s abuse will be treated.

I hate that I know this but as someone who did shamefully hate watch sausage party twice I have to point out that Adam here is literally just a rip off of a sausage party character.

Everything down to the voice direction is literally just a rip off of the main antagonist of Sausage Party, the douche. This is probably somewhat intentional as vivziepop was a massive fan of that movie when it came out, but if you’re going to make an homage that borders on plagiarism (this is a joke I’m not accusing her of plagiarism here but it’s giving original character, donut steel), does it have to be from sausage party? Does it really? There’s other movies. Anyway he doesn’t say much, just establishes himself as a douche.

Back at the hotel they start filming a new commercial since Alastor intentionally made their first commercial bad because he wanted to make fun of them and hates TVs just that much. Nothing very interesting happens. Angel is hot horny. Husk doesn’t want to be there. Alastor makes a deal with Vaggie to help as long as she never makes him go on TV again.

We go back to Charlie begging Adam to stop coming to hell and killing demons by the hundreds every year and Adam says no in frankly one of the only songs that I like from this series. Sadly, it’s still terribly annoying and repetitive.

Viv posted meme please clap.

Isn’t this the homophobic character from the pilot? Didn’t realize she was given a male voice to imply she’s either a drag Queen or trans I guess. Great. I’m sure it’s a very artistic and respectful choice and not every other more likely reason this was the casting decision.

The episode ends with the discovery that an Angel was killed during the last extermination so they plan to come back in just six months to kill every demon in hell. I might care if any character established themselves as anything other than a vessel to spout boring exposition and sex jokes for twenty minutes.

And that’s episode one. It’s honestly just boring and all of the explicit language sounds extremely forced and awkward.

0/10, the one okay song wasn’t enough to save it. Too much exposition dumping.

#hazbin hotel #hazmat motel #hazmat hole #owlvid live-blogging

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animentality · 8 months

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How many times are y'all gonna fawn and gush and fall for Disney dragging yet another actor back to the franchise in a desperate attempt to keep people subscribed to their streaming service?

Hayden Christiansen was even already on a new Star Wars show.

What next, they drag on Alex Guinness's corpse?

Are you going to piss yourselves with ecstasy when they pull back Natalie Portman for a five second cameo that she filmed on her phone?

Are you going to cut off your fingers and toes and mail them to Bob Iger when Carrie Fisher's corpse is tied to strings and danced like a marionette in the newest episode of The Return of the Death Star Star Death: Returning Actor of the Week: Anthony Daniels?

It's always been eye roll inducing but now it's just sad.

How many times can they do this, and still have you weirdos clapping and screaming and frothing at the mouth?

I normally just don't care about other people's entertainment choices, because God knows you have the right to be a fucking idiot, but I really wonder how long Star Wars and Marvel can continue to parade corpses before a rapt-eyed slack jawed audience of buffoons who love a little necrophilia.

I also despise what Marvel and Star Wars have done to entertainment. Multiverses as an excuse to shoehorn in old actors and dead actors and overdose you on memberberries. Endless cameos that rely entirely on older, more original stories that have already been told before. Interconnected universes with none of the narrative consistency that could make them interesting, used primarily so that you can ooh and ahh as you see actors from the 90s reprising roles, for the sole purpose of nostalgia baiting.

I'm so sick of Disney. I'm so sick of star wars products. I'm so sick of marvel drivel.

I'm so sick of blockbusters like Indiana Jones 6 and Transformers Rise of Beasts and endless sequels and remakes and retools.

Make. New. Fucking. Things.

Ahsoka was already bad enough for existing purely to satisfy Dave Filoni's fetish for his own character. Giving her a solo show was banking entirely on your love for the clone wars.

Bring back Hayden...how bad was ahsoka doing?

Book of Boba Fett must've been doing far worse, because that random episode of the mandalorian plopped inside of it was Disney desperately trying to backpedal and bring back its audience.

Maybe if the ratings don't improve they'll bring back Jango Fett or something so you can go make your gifs and your tiktoks and your gushing posts about how exciting it was for you.

And before you even ask or start drafting something, no.

I was not soliciting opinions on this.

#star wars

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fullmetalpotterhead · 3 months

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I think there is a cruelty in expecting your idea of a happy ending is the one a person wants for themself and I think it’s an idea we see within tgcf AND within the fandom treatment of the characters.

(Warning below cut for novel spoilers and also the fact some of you may get defensive. Absolutely enjoy fandom the way you want I just think narratively and analytically it feels hollow).

FX and MQ struggle with who XL has become because they believe they understand who he is supposed to be. They believe they know best the happy ending he is supposed to want. Their idea of a happy ending for him does not include scrap collecting or ghost husbands. It does not include roaming around the mortal realm. And so it is hard for them to fully face who XL is and the fact he can be happy in a way that is different from this preplanned scenario for him. (One that admittedly a younger him would agree with! Their belief is well founded, it’s just misguided.)

And mostly, I see fans understand this. That XL’s happy ending is the soft epilogue of a quiet life not caring much about heaven or important events but doing what he wants to spread kindness and enjoy love. But sometimes still I see fans who talk about how perfect he’d be as the new heavenly emperor and I wonder “don’t you get it? Don’t you see that he doesn’t want that?” The responsibility of that. The burden of managing heaven like that. It’s not what XL has ever really striven for even when he was more “ambitious”. He’s the kind who likes to go down and get his hands on things, not sit back and take this mantle of ultimate authority that ties him up in buerocratic red tape. He’s never wanted to manage the gods, that’s not the kind of power he sits happiest in. He could be happy in spite of being given such a role, but when I see fans give him this they pose it like a gift. Like an honor. It is neither of those things to a man who genuinely does not even care anymore about being seen as a god by anyone but his husband.

And then I see Xuan Ji. A ghost who lingers in obsessive, crazed love-hatred. And when she fades, it is because she has finally let go of her attachment to PM. She’s at peace. She can rest. Her reason for lingering isn’t like HC’s, it was never a happy thing. She lingered in traditional ghostly fashion as a sick twist against nature and when at last she was settled she could finally move on to let her soul continue to her next life instead of being trapped within her crazed grief. So it’s important she fades. It’s important she finally gives up and rests. To linger any longer isn’t her happy ending. To let go is to move forward for her. It’s not that her happy ending was dying— she was already long dead. All that remained was unwell. It’s not the same as killing her off, she’s not human. MXTX is giving her a chance at rebirth by letting her fade.

The one I see the most is SQX. I see many fans want SQX to ascend again. Many fans write and talk as if in a few years SQX could ascend on their own merit and return to heaven with grace and that would be their glorious happy end. But such an end… it really feels against the spirit of SQX’s own wishes. SQX lives as a beggar with other beggars in repetenance for what his brother did. He finds new friends and new joy among his fellow beggars. He is resolved and ready to eventually die a mortal death. His brother, his closest family, is now gone and he himself has lived centuries of a very good life. Lived far beyond the years of the average happy mortal. (SWD, in trying to bait HX points it out: they’ve already won. They lived worshipped and comfortable for centuries as gods.)

To ascend again is, for one, not something SQX was ever capable of himself which is part of the point, but second of all… to what end would he ascend for? To what purpose would he desire immortality? His family is gone. His worldview is drastically changed by what he’s gone through. Could he happily return to a frivolous life in heaven? Should he go through the gossip that would no doubt follow him in heaven regarding the circumstances of his first ascension and fall forever? Why? What does heaven and immortality give him that he is lacking in his end now? It doesn’t offer any more family or stability than he’s already found for himself. He’s carved out his happy ending with a family of beggars and he’ll carry the weight of what his brother did and one day he’ll die a mortal death. As we all will. That’s not a bad thing. That’s not an unhappy ending.

XL’s happy ending was not found in heaven, but heaven will forever be part of his reality. Many fans seem to understand this. So I don’t understand why that logic doesn’t follow SQX. To return to heaven doesn’t feel like properly facing his character arc to me. It feels like the same thing FX is trying to do in believing XL’s happiest ending is fixed to the picture perfect ideal. Happy endings are personal things that should suit the one who earned them. And this is the one SQX has crafted. I think he’s done a rather beautiful job.

#tgcf #again this isn’t a personal attack against those who like the other things #it’s a love letter to the fact that a happy ending is a deeply personal thing

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

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waiting

pairing: dark!andy barber x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. angst angst angst. mommy issues. mentions of pregnancy. allusion to thoughts of abortion (this blog is firmly pro choice btw). self loathing. everyone is just really mean to poor reader. ☹️. oh and a mention or two of mr. ransom drysale 😶 if i’m missing something important pls feel free to let me know.

words: 5.3k

notes: i’ve had this fic in my wips since july and finished since the beginning of this month, i just never posted it lol but i’m so excited to share it finally. this definitely isn’t for everyone and really was just an indulgent write but if you do read this, i hope you enjoy the angst. comments and reblogs are more than welcome and appreciated. i’d love to hear what you think. thank you for reading 🖤

The flickering light in the nearly empty emergency room was unsettling. Your mind was taunting you as you sat in the waiting area, the chair beneath you growing harder and more uncomfortable with each passing minute.

You had jinxed yourself.

Cursing your fate mere hours ago and dwelling on how horribly things were going lately, thinking it couldn’t possibly get any worse.. Of course, it could.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know why you were here. Maybe just as an excuse to try and avoid the inevitable.

Maybe it was some sick sense of guilt hanging over you..

A part of you now desperate to remember the sense of comfort you could find in her - even if only for a few moments. As hard as you’ve tried these last 24 hours, you just couldn’t seem to remember what it felt like. You started to wonder if there was really anything to remember at all. But there had to be, right? She was your mother. There had to be. And then your phone rang. You didn’t let yourself think before you told whoever was on the other end that you would be there soon. You just called an Uber and went right down. Now here you were.

Whatever it was that drove you here - fear, guilt, obligation, a need for reassurance - that maybe this all wouldn’t be so bad, it brought you to this moment. Waiting with baited breath for your name to be called, for someone to escort you to her room, to finally see the damage she had done with her refusal to help herself. You felt bad, though you knew you shouldn’t. The damage she had done to you could be seen every time you looked in the mirror.

Stare too long at your reflection and you're lost again to the darkness that has managed to follow you all your life. You felt hollow a lot of the time, but the more apt word would be numb. Because you weren’t hollow by any means. No, you were full to the brim with hurt and anger and despair. You didn’t like feeling that. So numbness was better.

Just try to forget. Don’t let your mind sit in silence for too long. It was prone to wandering. And so were you. Maybe that’s why you were in the position you were now. You could never let yourself be content. Always searching, always reaching for something more. Something that could finally make you feel. Force you to feel. You just didn’t realize that it would lead you to him. That anyone could ever make you feel as much as he did. That you could ever feel like this.

The flickering of the light was bad, but the seemingly deafening silence was worse.

Until it wasn’t.

The entrance door slid open and you vaguely heard the footfall of whoever had just entered approaching behind you while the chilling breeze from outside came rushing in with them.

The shadow loomed over you and you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The creaking of the old chair as he sat directly behind you was irksome, as was his unwanted presence. Maybe if you just pretended he wasn’t there, you wouldn’t have to deal with him right now. Maybe he’d just go away for tonight. Maybe he’d be kind enough to leave you alone.

You could have scoffed out loud at yourself.

Kindness wasn’t really his thing. Not lately. And if you’d learned anything these past six months it was that the times you most wished he’d leave you be, were the times he was sure not to.

Waiting for him to move or speak or to do something, anything at all, was even more frustrating and did nothing to help settle the anxiety that was already turning your stomach. You couldn’t take the silence a moment longer. You spoke with your back to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been calling you all night,” he responded without answering your question. You could hear the edge in his tone and it only served to piss you off. He had the audacity to be upset when he knew what was going on. You weren’t stupid enough to just not show up when he expected you at his place, you texted him and told him where you’d be and why. It wasn’t like you were hiding from him. At least not in a way he could prove.

“Yeah, well, I've been a little preoccupied.” you said harshly. Biting your lip as you instantly regretted your tone. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but you couldn’t deal with the repercussions you’d get for it from him right now. You were already on the verge of breaking completely.

“Sweetheart,” he leaned forward in his chair as he spoke, voice hard, getting even closer to you as if his presence wasn’t already all together suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. I’ve been waiting since I texted you. They won’t let me back there.”

Truthfully, you were more upset about the news you’d gotten yesterday than you were about the wait - you weren’t even really sure you wanted to go back there. Their ignorance of you was more helpful than you were sure they realized. You couldn't be accused of not showing up, it’s not like it was your fault they never got to you. You were still there.

You didn’t speak that aloud though, and he wouldn’t have given you any time to if you’d wanted.

He clicked his tongue and got up without saying a word and walked to the receptionist. You watched as they spoke, his charm shining through as the young woman was in complete admiration at the man before her. If only she knew the real him. If only anyone knew what he was really like. But no. He saved his true self for you and you alone.

The shrill laughter of the woman pierced your ears as Andy smiled, charming oozing off of him. You were reminded of the first time you met him. How easily you had fallen for his act, much the same way. Laughing shyly at his compliments and smiling softly at that same smirk you now dread. The one that haunts your dreams at night after he finally grants you some peace. He’d taken over everything. Every aspect of your life. All of you.

He didn’t care. Not really. Not about the situation. Not even truly about you. He could pretend all he liked, but you knew the truth, whether he accepted it or not.

He didn’t care, he just wanted people to believe he did. That’s what it felt like. And damn did they believe. You had, too. Until you got too close. Finally saw him drop the facade.

Sometimes you could convince yourself it was better this way. To really know him, to know the truth. It helped you not feel so much like a fool anymore. And the way you saw people react to him, falling for every kind smile and caring word, that helped too. You couldn’t blame yourself, he was just so damn good at hiding it.

The woman behind the desk pressed a button and the door leading further into the hospital buzzed open. Andy smiled at her again, giving her a soft ‘thank you’.

He stood at the door, looking at you while holding it open, waiting for you to get up. You stared blankly a moment, your body not wanting to move. This was stupid. Seeing her wouldn’t change anything. It’d do no good for either of you. In fact, it’d probably just send you spiraling even further. You never should have come here in the first place. Never should have answered the phone to begin with. You had bigger problems to worry about. This was too much. It was all too much. Maybe you could visit her after she got home, but you couldn’t do this, especially not right now. Your heart was starting to race and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You opened your mouth slightly, wanting to speak but no words would come out. You vaguely heard Andy call your name, but didn’t respond to it, not until he loudly cleared his throat and broke through your trance. You looked at him immediately, his annoyance clear in what used to be such kind eyes. You couldn’t find the softness or warmth you did before. Only harsh blue staring a hole through you. You forced your body to move, albeit slowly, standing up and walking toward him. When you were close enough and he was sure no one was watching, he gripped your arm tight and pulled you through the threshold of the door. You stumbled forward, gasping slightly, and tried to pull your arm away, grimacing as his grip was too tight. You looked up at him, pleading without words, eyes begging him to relent. Instead of just letting go of you, he threw your arm away from him and out of his hold. Another needless aggression.

“Stop acting so goddamn catatonic,” he snarled.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” you murmured. “I can’t do this,” you breathed as you tried to move past him, back through the door you’d just entered through.

“Now you want to leave? The second I get you back here? You’re that fucking stubborn. You won’t let me do any nice thing for you, you just like when I’m mean to you, is that it?”

“Andy, please,” you tried to calm him. “It’s not you, I just, I can’t do this, okay. I can’t see her. Please. Let’s just go, I’ll go with you, alright? Wherever you wanted to go tonight, let’s go,” you pleaded. You really couldn’t fathom having to face her. Now that you were so close, you just couldn’t do it. Hell, you were begging the man you’d been trying to keep away from to take you anywhere else, you were that desperate to avoid this reunion.

Your head was down now, staring at his solid chest as he continued to keep you blocked from the door. You felt his hand come up, moving some of your hair out of your face. His touch, deceptively gentle. He moved to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You are leaving with me, you already know that. But we’re not going anywhere until I say we are. You’re gonna be a big girl,” he said, voice dripping with condescension as he gripped your chin painfully, “and do what you came here to do. You can’t run from your fears forever.”

You felt tears welling in your eyes but you fought them back with everything you had.

I hate you I hate you I hate you.

That was all that was running through your head as you blinked away the tears threatening to spill. He didn’t deserve your tears. Neither of them did.

You backed away, lips in a tight line and eyes hard.

A nurse was passing by as you did and Andy was quick to put on a show.

He grabbed your hand gently and it took everything in you not to rip it away. He pulled you back closer and wrapped his arms around you, burying your face in his chest. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he spoke softly. You couldn’t see his face, so you didn’t know for sure, but you would have bet money he smiled at the nurse as they passed by. Another phony display of comfort.

You weren’t even sure he realized why he was doing it, or how hollow of a gesture it was. You wondered if he really was that deluded that he could think this was a sincere intimate moment between the two of you. His heavy hand was rubbing your back in an attempt to be soothing, and seemed to confirm your thoughts. He turned you in his hold, your back to his chest as he ushered you in the direction of the room number he had been given.

Your feet were only moving because he was pushing you forward. You didn’t know what room you were going to, but when Andy stopped in front of a cracked door, you figured that must be it. You swallowed hard, turning to face him again. Having to see her on your own was enough to leave you feeling sick, but with the news you got yesterday still weighing on you and Andy hovering so close, you felt nearly immobile. The more you thought about what was about to happen, the more anxious you got. You started to think about the last time you’d had to introduce your mother to the person you were seeing. It went horribly, even he agreed. And Ransom had a pretty low bar set for family as it was. Not that he had any room to judge.. Thinking about him and everything that had gone down those few years ago gave you chills even now. How the hell did you constantly end up in these convoluted, fucked up relationships. You worried it said more about you than it did any of them.

“You, you can’t go in,” you said, shaking your head as you avoided eye contact. “She’ll…it’ll be a whole thing,” you tried to explain.

“She doesn’t know about me?” he sniffed.

“I haven’t seen her in over a year,”

“You don’t call?” You cringed at his tone. Accusatory, like he always was, already putting the blame for the rift you had with your mother on you without knowing any of the details. You swallowed the renewed lump forming in your throat and took a stabilizing breath before you responded.

“It’s been a while,” you choked, your voice thick and throat tight.

“Well I can introduce myself just fine,”

You moved to block him from entering the door, earning a stern glare in response.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he seethed. “Move.”

“Let me just talk to her first,” you refused.

His jaw ticked as he stared down at you, eyes narrowed. He huffed, agitated. You thought for a second he was going to listen, but you should have known better. He took a step closer, bending down and grabbing your face in his large hands.

“You’re gonna remember this exact moment later tonight. And you’re gonna regret it.”

His voice was calm, his eyes sure - and you believed him. Your shoulders sagged as you deflated. You weren’t gonna win this one. He brushed past you and entered the room with a knock on the door as he pushed it open. His previous irritation was quickly replaced by his mask of goodheartedness.

You heard her before you saw her, the lilt of her voice paralyzing you.

Suddenly you were a kid all over again, teary eyed and broken hearted at the words that spilled from her lips as she held up clothes to you in the department store, vicious in meaning but so gentle in her delivery. If you didn’t pay attention to the words, you could convince yourself she was reassuring you instead of tearing you apart. That’s what it looked like to passersby, you were sure. The unadulterated spite and barely concealed hatred was saved for you behind closed doors. Living under her roof was your own personal hell and once you got out from under her thumb, you refused to settle back down anywhere. Never believing you were secure, wanted. You just kept searching for what you were longing for, never accepting when you’d found it, or just too scared to stay. Always wandering to the next. You couldn't stay too long or they'd grow to despise you, too.

Who would have thought you'd find yourself trapped again after all these years, all the time you spent desperate to avoid it. It was almost comical. It had to be cosmic. It was like you ran right into him. You wanted to know what you had done in your past life to have cursed yourself to such a fate in this one. How did they keep finding you and what had you done to deserve it? Another devil holding you down. You should have seen it coming. Maybe you did. Maybe it just felt so familiar, the only love you knew as a kid. Anything else you'd received felt like a joke, like you didn't deserve it. Or maybe it was even simpler than that. Maybe you were just tired of trying to outrun fate.

The people you found yourself closest to were always the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Seeming so gentle and loving from the outside, but ready to tear you apart the second they get you alone. Exposed. Vulnerable.

Maybe you did deserve this. The second you started to believe things were finally going right for you, that maybe you could finally be happy, that seeming reality was shattered for you by the very hands you thought were helping put you back together after spending so much of your life feeling absolutely broken.

You didn’t really hear the words they were exchanging as you walked into the room after a moment, taking a heavy breath. When you finally focused in, you heard the end of their brief introductions.

“There’s my daughter,” she announced as you approached. “Look at you,” she intoned, looking you up and down before landing on your face. “You’re all done up. Got all your makeup on.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest uncomfortably as you took a breath, looking away from her. You could hear the judgment clear as day laced in her words.

“It looks pretty,” she tried to compliment when you looked to her, face solemn. “I wish I could do my makeup like that,” she said smiling.

“Thanks, mom,” you replied, taking a step further into the room. You could feel Andy’s gaze on you, watching you intently, waiting for you to make your way to him, you were sure. “...How are you?”

You felt stupid for even asking, but you didn’t really know what else to say.

“Oh, ya know,” she tried to play off. “I’m fine, honey, I’m fine,” she assured you when you looked at her with a slightly raised brow. She took a breath. “I haven’t seen you in over a year. Haven’t heard from you nearly at all, either, I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” you said, feeling guilty.

“Hey, that’s life, though. Gets hard. Trust me, I know,” she said before she considered you a moment. With just the tilt of her head you knew she was about to say something provocative. “You look so different…. A lot can change in over a year, though, right?” she continued, looking over to Andy deliberately.

“Uhm. Mom, this is Andy Barber. Andy, my mother,” you introduced them only out of obligation. Manners were important to both of them. Something else they had in common.

“So he told me,” she smiled. “I’m assuming you’re… dating?” You swallowed hard as you looked at her before looking to Andy.

“Six months now,” he responded for you, walking to where you were still standing, smiling softly as he put his arm around you. It was deceptively sweet, comforting. You almost wanted to let yourself relax into him, use him as a shield against the vitrole you knew would be coming eventually.

“Six months? Wow. That must be a record for you, right?” she baited you with a laugh. You didn’t respond, just looked down to the one teal tile on the floor amongst the sea of white. You could feel her eyes on you before she realized she wouldn’t be getting a response, turning her attention to Andy instead.

“So, what do you do for work?” she prodded.

“I’m an assistant DA,” he answered her.

“A lawyer?” your mother said, shocked evident in her voice as she looked at you. “Well, better make sure this one lasts,'' she told you. “And if it does last, you’d better get a prenup,” she laughed again as she nodded to Andy.

You stiffened as Andy did beside you and bit your cheek, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. She noticed your face and her scoff made your stomach turn. You looked up to see her rolling her eyes as she looked away like she was exhausted by you already. “You just always have to have an attitude don’t you?” she said almost under her breath, frustrated. “Why are you so sensitive? You’re an adult. Stop taking things so personally. Lighten up, grow some skin. I’m trying to have a conversation and it's like everything I say you have an issue with.

God, y/n, ya know, why are you even here? To make me feel worse? Remind me how much of a fuck up mother I am?” You knew it was coming. It always did. And yet you were still jostled by her flip. You felt Andy’s hand squeeze your waist as you unconsciously backed further into him, pressing closer to his side like a frightened puppy trying to hide yourself.

“Mom, I didn’t say anyt-”

“Why are you here?” she enunciated each word loudly, interrupting and talking over you.

“They called when they brought you in. I’m your emergency contact, remember?”

“Remember? Don’t talk to me like I’m senile.” she nearly sneered.

You bite your tongue and cursed yourself for feeling tears well up already.

“Yeah, that’s great. Bring out the waterworks. Put on a show, make me the bad guy. It’s always me, right? It’s always my fault,” she continued. “What do you have to cry for? I’m the one who was abandoned by you. You show up after over a year of rejecting my calls and one word text responses, what to make yourself feel better? Where were you when I needed you, huh?” she questioned, words like knives in your heart. You felt so small under her angry gaze. You felt like the worst person in the world. You felt like a child. A weak, scared, sorry child.

“Andy was it?” she asked, pulling her eyes from you as she turned them to Andy.

“Mr. Barber is fine,” he corrected, voice hard and defensive.

“Well, Mr. Barber,” she mimicked, “I’m sorry you have to see this, but let me just warn you. If I know my daughter, I know she's not much for sticking around. She’ll run as soon as she gets the chance. She’s like her father that way. The second she gets tired of you. The second you can’t offer her anything anymore,” the bitterness was dripping from her every word, “she’ll be gone.”

You gulped down the lump in your throat and squeezed your own hand to try and keep yourself calm.

“If you don’t believe me, just ask her ex. He’ll tell you the same thing,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” you said dumbfounded and exasperated.

“What do you think I’m talking about? Ransom,” she said as if it was obvious. The mention of his name had you frozen. “The second you found out he was written out of that will, you left him like it was nothing.”

“Are you serious? You’re gonna bring that up right now? He went to prison for murder, mom!” you raged. “And you know what, my relationships are none of your business,” you seethed.

“You slept with him for his money, you and I both know it. Just because it turned into something more after doesn’t change the way it started.”

“That’s not true,” you whispered angrily.

“I don’t believe you,” she told you, voice eerily level as tears renewed in your eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you asked, voice breaking as Andy pulled you behind him.

“That’s enough. It’s clear this was a bad idea,” he stated, making you want to scream. As if you hadn’t told him as much before he forced you in here. You turned to the side as you held your head in your hands, trying to regain your composure.

“Oh my god,” your mother breathed as she took in your side profile for the first time. Her voice was full of worry and your head shot over to her immediately in response to your name being spoken in near reprimand. “Are...are you pregnant?” she asked out of nowhere.

“What?” you breathed.

“Your stomach looks bigger. Like there’s a bump there. It’s been a year but I know what you look like when you put on weight,” she started, eyes locked on your tummy. “And I know what baby weight looks like.. Yo-you’re pregnant aren’t you?” she asked again. She sounded..scared.

You were looking at her, confounded as Andy turned to you, looking much the same. He eyed you up and down before you felt his gaze settle on your stomach. Your hands came up to your lower belly self consciously.. Or maybe it was protectively.

You didn’t know how she knew. You’d only just found out yourself. You didn’t think you were showing noticeably in the slightest. Your periods were always irregular. Skipping cycles wasn’t anything you would think twice about. You were on the pill. You thought maybe you were just more bloated lately. Gaining weight wasn’t anything new for you, either. You didn’t piece any of it together right away. You had no reason to. You were protected. Or so you thought. And you had zero plans of informing Andy of the news. Not yet. You were still trying to process it. You couldn’t be a mother. You couldn’t become your mother. But what were you supposed to do? You could deny it easily enough, put the conversation off, but you knew Andy wouldn’t let it go. He’d want a test to know for sure either way. He’d find out the truth. You were planning to make your appointment next week to find out how far along you were. See if you had any options left.

“Are you pregnant?” Andy asked softly, walking closer to you.

Your mouth was dry. You didn’t want to answer him, but you knew you’d have to. You licked your lips before you spoke.

“I don’t- I- I think.. maybe,” you breathed, words fumbling while you were avoiding eye contact with both of them.

Your attention was caught by your mother lamenting your nickname, pained and sorrowful. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she pleaded. “You’re so young, you’re not ready to be a mother. You-”

“All due respect,” Andy snapped, “- which is near none,” he added, sneering as he turned on your mother while you watched in sudden shock, mouth slightly agape while your mind spun, “you have absolutely no say here. In fact, it’s none of your business. This is a private matter between your daughter and I - no one else. But if you really want to worry about anyone’s ability to mother, I’d focus on yourself first. You’ve done a real bang up job so far,” he said sarcastically.

“Andy,” you reproached, walking quietly to him, wanting to calm things before they got worse.

“We’re leaving,” he said to you while sending daggers to your mother who looked at you with tears in her eyes, “You never should have come here.”

You looked at your mom, discontent clear on your face.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she said, voice cracking. You had to look away before your own tears started to fall, lip wobbling. You weren’t sure what she was apologizing for, but it was the first time you ever heard her say those words sincerely. And it broke your heart. Andy grabbed your hand in his as he pulled you to the door and out of the room. The second you were past the door, you immediately broke down in tears. Everything hitting you all at once. Suddenly you were gasping for air as you felt like your legs were about to give out beneath you. Andy’s arms wrapped around you, turning you to pull you into his chest, his strength keeping you up as you leaned fully into him. One hand was holding your head while the other was wrapped around you, rubbing your back as you cried. He placed a kiss atop your head while he hushed you quietly, both of you standing in the empty hospital hallway.

You caught your breath after a minute and let yourself believe he was holding you so gently because he really cared. Because he was sorry for not listening to you. Because he wanted you to feel better, to comfort you. Whether it was true or not, it helped. Slowly you pulled away from him, and his hand came up to brush the tears off your puffy cheeks.

“How far along are you?”

“I really don’t know,” you said honestly. “If I had to guess, at least ten weeks,”

“How long have you known?” he asked quietly, thumb still stroking your cheek.

You looked at him doe eyed, lips set in a small pout. You opened your mouth to speak before he cut you off,

“I’m gonna tell you right now, don’t lie to me,” he warned, an ocean storm brewing in his normally brilliant blue eyes as he forced you to look him in the eye.

“Since yesterday,” you murmured. “I swear.”

He nodded slightly then took you by surprise, pulling you closer for a slow and deep kiss. Your brows were furrowed as he pulled away to allow you both a breath.

“You should have told me right when you found out,” he reproached.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I was still trying to wrap my head around it. I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I don’t know how this even happened,” you confessed. But Andy knew.

He’d been switching out your birth control for nearly four months now and had long since stopped wearing condoms with you, though that you were aware of. He didn’t think it was important to tell you about the swap he’d made with your pills, so he decided to keep that to himself. No need to get you worked up again. Especially now that he knew you finally were pregnant. He’d have to figure out a way to keep you as stress free as possible. Keeping you home would be easy enough, he basically had you living with him already, but he’d have to make that change slowly, you would surely resist his attempts to keep you at home if he made it too obvious.

He found your mother’s warning funny, though. As if you’d ever be able to run from him. You’d tried, but he was always two steps ahead. You didn’t go anywhere without him knowing, whether you knew that or not. You were his now. You had been since the day he first laid eyes on you. You weren’t going anywhere. As he thought about the changes he’d have to make now that you were pregnant, he remembered the punishment he’d given you a few nights ago. It reminded him you had another one coming tonight, too. He’d have to go about them differently now, though. As much as he loved discipling you, his tactics would have to change, he’d need to be even more careful with you. And more lenient, he realized. He loved your responses to spankings, but he was looking forward to changing your punishments up with edging or overstimulation now instead. Either way, he was sure to make you cry. Make sure you’d learn your lessons. And he’d get started tonight. You brought out the darkness in him, but you brought the softness out, too. He wanted to remind you how good things could be. There was just one more thing bugging him at the moment that he’d have to let out.

“Come on,” he instructed. “I parked in the garage.”

You walked with him to the entrance before he led the way to his car.

He opened the door for you and helped you in before he went around and got in himself. He sighed heavily as you sat in silence for a moment before he turned to you.

“Who the fuck is Ransom?”

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i-smoke-chapstick · 11 days

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'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART FIVE]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You discover Jervis has some skeletons in his closet. Perhaps literally.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) The slow burn is slow burning. She fell first, he fell harder. This part got some angst to it...the beginning of a whole mess. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Reader meeting Alice. Jervis being an obsessive freak, per usual. Jim Gordon is STILL...Jim Gordoning. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom @sweetlimeharvest

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR, - 'PART FIVE, - ‘PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN, - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, -'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN,

♫ “For you, I would cross the line.” Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

Five minutes. Five minutes is all it takes for you to say, fuck that, I'm following them.

With Tabitha and Barbara doing god knows what, and Butch disappearing, probably to go take his anger out on some poor sap who tried to avoid tipping, you're left by yourself.

You always hated that pit of loneliness inside you. You had plenty of people in your life. Though, each one you counted, acted less like a friend, and more like a mentor of sorts. They were all either trying to parent you, or trying to guide you. Even Selina. You're a few years older than her. She still thinks she knows better then you.

Digging through your thoughts, your mind is made up. Besides, what if your dad tries something crazy on Mr. Tetch? He was ready to beat an answer out of him five minutes ago. You shudder.

Turning on your heel, you push through the people in the club. You hear the small noisy shouts of "Watch it!" and "Hey!" as you make your way out the back. You don't have the time to care right now.

You try to think about where they could be. The direction where Jervis turned. The rooftop. The balcony. It made sense in your head.

You finally hear your fathers distraught voice through the haze.

"So, what is it in Alice's blood that makes it so infectious?" He spits. "She doesn't look sick to me."

You peak through the window in the door. Watching the two standoff with one another. You're reminded of your mother telling you, you're such a curious little thing.

Then the ticking of a pocket watch makes your eyebrows furrow. You've heard that before.

"She's not sick," Jervis chimes, embittered. "She's powerful, sir."

"Powerful how?" Your father steps closer, and you watch on the edge of your seat. A pit forms in your stomach that something isn't right. "I need answers, Tetch."

"You deserve some." Jervis responds, half-heartedly, as though he really doesn't seem to care. "Do you hear my watch ticking?"

You watch in slow motion as it all falls down.

You see your father, listening, keen. You hear the ghosts of words on Jervis's tongue- speaking softly.

"It synchronizes with your heartbeat, yes?" Mr. Tetch sighs. You watch your dad zone out right before your eyes. With baited breath, you lean in closer. He's hypnotizing him. Why?

"Take out your gun and put it on the ground."

He could just be doing this to protect himself. You try to convince yourself. Dad has a reputation.

You watch as the gun clacks to the floor.

"Good," Jervis speaks, slowly. You feel your heartbeat quicken. "Now walk to the edge and climb onto the wall."

Fuck.

You're trying to comprehend the situation. You're frozen in place. There's no way your dad, or you for that matter, gets out of this alive. There's no way this is real.

This is Gotham, that voice in your head taunts. Anything's real.

You watch, as Jervis continues. With every insult, every remark, your father blindly agrees with him.

"I am going to count to ten. When I reach ten," Jervis has the gull to smirk. "You'll find everlasting peace."

Your fists clench.

"One."

You remember how your dad would come home after work on Fridays. He'd buy you pizza. Tell you to hide it from mom. It was your little secret.

"Two."

You think about how your dad looked when you told him you wanted to be just like him when you were older. Half happy. Half depressed.

"Three."

You think about how he's changed. Everything's changed. You wonder if a part of you wants him to die.

"Four."

You recount Jervis's words. He can only make a person do what they secretly wish to do. All this time, you thought you were keeping him afloat. The reason he was alive. His little girl. Were you never enough?

"Five-" Jervis begins, before a voice interrupts from behind you.

"Stop!" It's high-pitched, feminine. For a moment, you almost think you spoke. You see a woman march past you, opening the door. She ignores your presence, but offers you a scared glance. She has a gun in her hand.

You suddenly feel hot tears run down your cheeks. Were you crying?

Jervis whips his head around, and it's as though the world has been delivered to him on a silver platter. He marvels at the sight of the woman.

"Alice?" He breathes, not noticing your shaking form, still clinging to the shadows in the doorway. "Thank god! At last, I've finally found you!" You feel your eyes and throat burn, trying to keep quiet. You can't stop staring at your father hanging over the balcony.

"Tell that man to get off the ledge." She speaks, firm, but her voice breaks. So this is Alice, the woman he's been dying to find.

Between desperation and anger and anxiety you don't know if jealousy is an emotion you should be feeling right now. But it's buried deep inside the pile, beside yourself. Nothing feels right. It only makes your stomach twist more.

"Never mind him, put down the gun." Mr. Tetch puts his hand out to the gun. He reminds you of the boogieman you were scared of when you were younger.

"Mister! Get down!" The girl calls, and you feel guilty for feeling that twinge of jealousy. She's doing more to save your father than you are. The thought elicits another scared sob from you that you choke down.

"He can't hear you," Jervis assures her. His voice is gentle in comparison to what it was with your father. It's like how he was with you.

"Don't come near me." She stands, grip on the gun tightening.

"Why are you here if you don't want to talk?" There's something in his voice that breaks. It makes you hate him. Hate how much you still feel sorry for him.

The woman starts to cry, the same as you.

"Put the gun down, Alice." He urges.

"You're evil." She breathes, and you wonder if anyone's truly evil in the world. You think of your mom. You think of the man who tortured her into becoming what she is. "Leave me alone!" Alice screeches, and her grip on the gun starts to shake.

No, no, no, no. Don't you dare miss this shot. A part of you argues. A different part of you hopes she misses entirely.

"But Alice," He looks desperate. "I love you."

At those three words, the shot rings out. You close your eyes at the sound of him letting out a groan, and the bang that echoes through the balcony. You see your father loose his footing on the ledge.

Silence be damned, you think. You rush to your dad in the flurry of bullets. The woman continues to shoot at Jervis, scared out of her mind. He hurries away, heavily breathing. Before he parts, he catches your gaze. You don't make out the rest of his face. Just those dark eyes that have been haunting your dreams.

You and Alice both pull Jim back before he falls, tears staining both of your cheeks. As he steadies his footing, all you and her can do is look at one another. Your lungs frantically breathe for air.

When a moment has passed, adrenaline closing, your father looks at Alice. As though you're not even there. In a way, you don't blame him. In a different way, how could he know you didn't step in? He should be thanking god he's still alive to hug his daughter.

"Thank you." He tells her. He doesn't look at you.

The click of handcuffs is the only thing you hear as he grabs Alice's wrist.

#gotham #x reader #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #dc comics #jervis tetch imagine #fic series #jervis tetch gotham #jervis tetch #jervis tetch x reader #the mad hatter #the mad hatter dc #the mad hatter x reader

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court-jobi · 1 year

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Best Medicine

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (AFAB | fem pronouns, but fairly neutral)

Words: 7.7k

Rating: Teen/Mature, 18+ (spicy first half) (K'oyacyi, sweet minors)

Warnings: Implied sensual release, grinding, cuddling, love confessions, carbonite sickness, language, memory loss, emotional hurt/comfort, survivor’s guilt, sleep intimacy, talks of consent/taking advantage, FEELINGS, the helmet comes off, Mandalorian marriages, Din deserves everything wonderful, Fluff/Hurt/Comfort roller coaster ride, angst with a happy(ish?) ending~

//set in pre and post- Season Two | The Mandalorian and the Book of Boba Fett (time jump)...// Translations included at end of work//

A/N & credits: Honorable mentions to @writerlyhabits for helping my mind run wild with carbonite sickness headcanons, and for inspiring me to write out this emotional ride of comfort-HURT-comfort for you all. It’s not often I make any form of whump, my Tumblr lovelies, so be kind and apologies in advance for this… It was both a challenge and an adventure to write~ I promised there’s a lovely silver lining in all my works, and I hope this one is enjoyable!

✨May the 4th be with y'all✨

Need more Star Wars fics? Get your fix w/my masterlist HERE!

Read on AO3

Summary: These are the soft moments you live for: each caress and light word of banter chisel the dark heaviness of life away, chip by chip. Tonight’s no different– you are swept up into the arms of Mando who’s taken your bait, and loving every minute of it. You’re overdue for a break and some quality time.

The quiet cabin of the Razor Crest gave you the space for cozy confessions, to learn more of his mother tongue, and give in to your tendency to get carried away like teenagers, if just for a spell.

Laughter is the best medicine: from the dead of hyperspace, to whatever bed you've landed on while on the run. Yet will that be the case– as the cruelty of time and circumstance test it?

"Ho-okay, c'mere you."

Relishing in your giggles as you wedged your hand in between his newly exposed ribcage, the Mandalorian let out the catch in his throat and quickly picked you up by your thighs– the perfect way to toss you up on one shoulder. You squealed and couldn't stop laughing even as he groused about your ‘cheeky hands where I can see them’, and walked you over to his quarters.

He swung you back down so that you plopped with a bounce on the recently laundered bunk. It’s tidy – well, was, before you fell onto it– and still smells fresh and windblown from your last stop. Pliant under his shadow, he towered over you with a hand on each side of your head. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t wearing armor; he’s still impressive.

"Do I have to teach you to mind your manners, too?" The rasp came out as annoyed, but you knew better.

He chides the kiddo all the time. 'Quit picking at things', 'don't give her that attitude'; all the magic words have to be instilled in him, as well as just keeping to himself and not being a nuisance. Munchkin has to be taught such things; they're juvenile.

That's not what he means with you. He's talking about the glances, the bounce of your foot taunting him when your legs cross, the playing with your belt which then tugs your neckline… when you line up your scope just right, just as he taught you, and you give him all the credit.

You really don't have to try hard at all to get Mando’s attention– it's the game of keeping a step away that leads into a chase that gets under his skin. Especially when he just knows you're up to it.

You have a few hours to kill until the next leg of your adventure begins. It’s bound to be a restless one when you touchdown planetside, so spoil him, you shall.

You couldn't stop smiling when he caught you.

"C'mon, you can't blame me, space cowboy. You're fun to tease."

Since you were taken down, you brushed your hair back, let your arms hang above your head, toying with him through your eye’s bat.

The visor transfixed on you told you everything you needed to know: you were practically gift-wrapped under him, and he’s obsessed with the view. That was by design.

Your laughter died down to little hums as you watched him glance to the wall, back to you, then again toward the shelf. He finally decided to palm the panel brusquely to shut the door behind him: encasing you both in automatic darkness.

You heard the click of the underside of his helmet. A relaxed, hollowed chuckle transitioned to a bright one to fill the silence.

Jackpot.

Strong arms came slowly down to the bed to hold you, with a warm, -now ungloved- hand brushing more hair back that had framed your face every which way.

The Mandalorian cooed down at you with a saccharine smile you knew had to be there,

"I love hearing you laugh…"

Hearing and touch senses honed in, you reached tentatively to where his shoulder would be, pulling him in and inviting him to lay in his newly claimed spot between your legs. The Mandalorian followed so, gingerly.

You murmured an affirmation as a questioning reply, coupled with a breathy string of chuckles to confirm his desires. Truly your eyes couldn't know the difference between open and closed in total blackness, anyway.

"--and I love listening to you sing," he praised you again. “I can hear you better this way.”

You hummed sweetly,

"Aww, so you do enjoy being serenaded huh? Big, scary bounty hunter brought to his knees by a wannabe wordsmith with a funny accent?"

Eager lips laid their caring touch to your forehead.

“Every time." He pressed little cheek kisses to you, too, explaining his untold, priceless comforts in between, "The minute you put the kid to bed is my favorite part of the day."

He feels your fingers trail up to his hair, nails taking through the crimped mess of curls there. He froze his affections the moment you did that. You ease moans out of him at one, singular touch.

He doesn't care how small he sounds, you think. All he knows is ‘I’m safe.’

"And this, is mine:" you said with a softness reserved for him. All teasing is set aside when you do choose to be serious. You shifted so he can let down more weight onto you in the newly shared room, "Taking care of the one man who puts everything and everyone else before himself. It's quite the honor, for me."

Sighs fall from him so easily. You'd imagine his eyes shut at that.

“It’s you who honors me,” Mando countered.

You wanted these moments to count: taking any chance you could to affirm and provide whatever comfort you can with the little downtime you had.

You know he won't show you, but it doesn't keep you from wondering… when he's so close, you wonder what he looks like under the helm. What kind of hair, how long. What breaks in the skin have cut into him after wearing it for so long, or did he have any prior to swearing on the names of his Ancestors.

What of his eyes alone? There's the usual gemlike hues, earthy tones; or there's always the artificial overlays people use to disguise themselves or the retinal scans– it's just a special effect they use in those holovids you watch on the weekends. Just the kind he mocked when he caught you watching them. 'Silly and pointless and ridiculously scripted.' And yet while he sassed about the waste of time, you often corralled him enough so that he'd at least sit with you while he cleaned off the carbon scoring of his rifles, to watch them passively by your side… he'd caved to your whims if you so much as touched him. That's what got you here.

With him at his most docile, you felt brave enough to ask what has always mystified you,

"What color are your eyes, hon?"

You heard Mando’s head tilt up with its sleepy intake of breath. A flash of worry that you overstepped hit you, feeling his form rise from its concave state under your touch… but he didn't go away. Fingers wound their way to cup the back of your neck instead–

–to prepare to taste yours in just a few moments.

"Purple," he answered.

You snorted at the lie. It's just a little bluff, but you'll entertain it… you both are teetering in the realm of what's permitted within his Creed anyway.

His lips are a breath from yours. You played along; like you'd won the guessing game,

"I knew it."

Your winner’s kiss was the touch of warmth he'd needed all day.

Eh, maybe he'd tell you the truth one day, maybe not– besides, you don't have any brainpower left to wonder when he's kissing you.

One turned into two and more, with the Mandalorian’s hands roaming your features until they reached low enough to switch spots and roll you over onto his chest instead. His palm’s exploration over your shoulder gave you the chance to pull away for a breath, leaving you to process the shivers he's causing and taking the time to relish his touch.

"I really do have to thank you," Mando confessed between deep breaths. Deep, like he was really breathing for the first time today. "I've– never felt so.. safe. Ever -in all my life- than when I'm with you."

You melted, until he said more.

"Feels like I’ve cheated the Fates to even be left standing, much less lie down without needing to keep an eye open. I never-- really thought I.. deserve this."

You wondered why. Your browline tensed with worry, why he would be so self-deprecating even after a career like his… littered with wins and paygrades and beskar trophies?

"Ill-deserving of what?" You asked plainly. "--having someone care about you?"

Your Mandalorian fell quiet, simply running a hand up and down your back with complete tenderness. Where his blunted nails caught your skin on the backstrokes, the pads of his glove-worn hands soothed the loving scratches’ path.

This silent confirmation wouldn’t cut your questions: it’s still a force of habit, Mando using actions to show what he means.

"You give me kindness. Kindness that," Mando spoke of the wonder of this feeling, "I had to convince my heart to accept. Who'd dare refuse a gift from you… But I can't help feeling it's wasted on someone like me."

Someone like him: a hunter? Or a Mandalorian? Folks frowned upon both mantles. You knew the biases, but you treated him fairly, made him feel valid– even before your feelings for him grew into something much sweeter than a working coexistence. Thank the Stars, you were so happy to find your chemistry was a feeling Mando shared after a late night with a too-close call. A feeling he was apparently still getting used to- hence the apparent guilt of what ‘gift’ he'd been given by having someone so generous like you for a partner.

This broke your heart every time. Not just hearing his affirmations and words of appreciation when they catch you off guard– but how he’d thank you for the most basic needs of his own.

"Honey," you leaned down your forehead to his, "You matter. Whether you believe it or not, you're loved and not alone in this galaxy. Your words, feelings, they matter to me. It's not wasted, any of it, baby. I'm honored to be the one who gets to love you on the day-to-day basis, yeah, but... even if I wasn't in the picture, I should hope you’d still seek out getting your needs met. That's all anyone wants, I think."

You caressed his stubbled jaw line with your thumb as it slid and traced down the seams to his chest. Something inspiring bumbled around in your head, so you tried working it out.

"You know as well as I do... these days can blur together so fast when we're moving too fast. We– get in the way of our own thoughts, and that can make our minds a messy place. It’s easy then, we forget how needed our wants are, sometimes.”

The hands caressing you stilled; reverent to every word you said.

“Keep your word, settle your debts, all that’s still true,” you shook your head, “But please don't forget this part, hon... You matter, and that includes the softer things you want. The nice things. What the amazing, kind- hearted man underneath needs."

No person has ever respected him so much. To honor his creed and what it entails, to support what he did, the lifestyle he chose-especially one as taxing as this. He wouldn't call himself a kind man; he was a killer, detached and for the longest time, keen to remain that way.. But if this woman so dear to him said so, maybe he was learning to be gentle after all.

You wished more than ever that you could stare him in the eyes so you'd know he heard you– but you swung for the next best thing: you held your hand right on top of his heart. Its beat was faint under his padded underarmour, but there.

His breath faltered at the touch.

Mando reached his to find the digits caressing him and dancing his along each one: skin to skin. Has no one really ever told him that? A little huff of air escaped him; you felt his head shake from the motion rustling the pillow beneath him.

"Hell, you're sweet," Mando brought your fingers off and laced them to his lips. "You mean that."

"Of course I do. I don't say it to prove I'm being right. I want you to know the truth."

He was quiet again. Only this time, a purposeful finger ran along your side to coax you out. Tickle, more like.

"Ok, sometimes I like being right!!" you rushed out to make him stop.

"I have a running list of wagers a mile long that says otherwise, cyar'ika. You fool no one, let alone me."

Mando amused himself every now and then, a sound you loved like a drug, too. You took control and dove up for another kiss, his deep laugh turning into something stronger, deeper. He always kissed you like he was drowning and you were his source of life and air. As if you'd fly away at any minute.

His hands pulled you tightly to him, demanding closeness with firm, undulating grips on your thigh and on your neck to direct you. Kiss after kiss, you eventually led from your point of leverage to start kissing down his neck as an experiment. He'd gasped at first, but the good kind. The kind that begged, not stalled for less.

“Loving on me,” Mando rasped, “Is that wha’ you– you’re calling nngthis?”

Your boy needed reassurance, something awful, tonight.

You'd normally tease him as you go, gauging his response to touching these new places, but were kind about it tonight. As touch-starved as your Mandalorian is, you didn't want to overwhelm him.

So you merely paused, gave a sweet “Sir, yes, sir~” and carried on after a quick peck on the cheek.

You couldn’t help but let your giddiness escape again when you reached a soft spot on his neck; one that made him say your name in an awestruck cry. Soft on the clips, long on the vowels. God, you love the sound of it, bobbing under your waiting lips as you worship the space. He's warm, stubbled, and just perfect.

"The way you say my name,” you beamed, “I'm starting to think you like me or something, honey."

Mando sighed out, moving a hand to the back of your head to get your attention:

"Din."

You still kissed him, asking him to repeat with a little hum.

"m'... m' name."

The loving haze blew away, and you with it. A zing thrummed to life in your chest. He’s never told you his name– ‘anonymity was his strength’ dictating the secrecy, after all. Despite the dark, you leaned up on an elbow.

Your eyes went wide, looking into nowhere at the wall, breathless at the discovery.

"Your name is Din?"

He was just as breathless beneath you, equally rendered mute as you were. Made sense, it was the first time he'd said the word to anyone in years; the proof lay in how his chest was heaving, "Yes."

"...Din."

He melted at the sound of it on your tongue.

"Din Djarin." he offered up his family name.

"Din Djarin." so you honored the clan, just the same.

He shuddered, "Fuck, yes".

In a surge, Din Djarin -no longer just the man you affectionately called ‘hey you’- pulled you back to his lips. Heated minutes passed with his hands all over you and your delighted, soft laughs breaking your kisses from pure happiness.

You now knew his name. Two words that coded him in a way few knew, and you were one of the select recipients of such intimate knowledge. This would take your bond to new heights tonight, and you could barely stand the euphoria that flooded you.

You'd started shuffling about with your hips instinctively over his once as much as your perch allowed and when they settled as an unintentional roll, Din sighed deeply and with a tighter grip. One hand gathered up your hair in his hand, where he could relish the waves in it and hold you back enough where he could lap at your neck as you'd done to him. Your hips found permission to work their magic and you were met with a carnal side of the Mandalorian you'd anticipated he held back all along. Even though his thick trousers and your leggings separated you two entirely, it was enough to scratch the itch and blind him even more to anything around him in a matter of seconds.

Little phrases passed Din’s lips; sweet nothings you thought, with no idea for their meaning. But with him talking, you didn't care if he was reciting the alphabet, his dinner order, or the damn 'Ode to the Empire’. He was practically praying hotly in your ear, and that was a buzz you'd never try to stop and put a pin in the moment to demand a pocket translator.

"Mesh’la, cyar’ika. Ka'ra jaon'kov, cuy’gar mesh’la. B’d jate... Jatne o'r ner sur'haai…"

One deep roll sent him gripping you tight so he bucked back. The sensation hit you in a special place too; you cried out a bit louder than you anticipated. Before you could even think to be shy about it, Din sucked hard on your neck– and your surprise jumped an octave.

"That's it, sweetheart." Din swallowed, "Kriff, that's a good girl."

He set a pace that you had no control of anymore. You'd be losing control yourself soon enough.

A bit helplessly, you whimpered along with the rolls, listening to his begs,

"Din, I ---nnnguhhh"

"What is it, sweet girl? Rejorhaa'ir ni. Does that feel good, huh?"

"Mhmmm.. it feels good,"

"You sound good. Heavens, you sound amazing. So.. so fucking pretty.." Din sought a sloppy makeout that you happily fell into.

From the warmth buzzing in your face through your body, you shot away breathless in a tiny whine into his cheek; something was going to burst inside.

"Ohmygodohmygod, Mand– Din, I can't..."

He ground up a bit faster, "Ni ganar’e, cyare, I've got you. Let go. Let me hear you, c'mon."

You'd whined again, shaking your head against your better judgment.

Sensing the fight in you, Din fisted the hand on your hair into a deliciously tight hold– his loving, seductive mouth speaking into the soft flesh by your jaw while his hand explored its way down to your thigh.

"C'mon, I know you're close. C'mon." The bass in his voice turned it into a growl easily. He was desperate too. "Be my best girl, like I know you are."

Oh God that tempted you. You'd been grinding faster, yourself. Not unlike hearing the pre-flight tells you catch when the engines cycle power in the cockpit: you're racing the lighting inside you while still trying to be conscious of the moment. Staying centered on him.

On Din. Din Djarin.

And with another suckling, lazy kiss to your neck, you'd cried out. The tremors jolted within you, subsiding into trembling shakes even when you quit thrashing against him.

Din's hand dropped to brace your back after your rush, keeping up his pace while you fought for breath. His voice choked out fast, too, ending his chase in a hard groan and his own hips rutting against you a few times harder than the rest, then fell back altogether. Your highs concluded quickly– with the mellow clang of his head thunking against the bar at the top of his bunk as he fell back.

You didn’t mean to, but you chuckled at his small 'ow', so you cupped your hand up to cradle his head. Massage it, to comfort. Even he, the man who takes vibroblades to the flesh and barely sheds a tear, feels vulnerable enough to give a little whine out to play for sympathy.

Catching your breath has never felt so good.

Soon enough though, you felt both his hands slide to your hips and push up a bit.

You lifted gingerly, "Oh, am I hurting you?"

"I.. I uh,... made a mess." Din sounded so winded.

You ran hot at that admission.

"Oh. Heh, sorry ‘bout that."

"Oh hell, don't you apologize for that," You could hear the smile, albeit the awkward stumbling behind it. "Wait- wait here."

He tipped you on your side and kissed you quick.

"Eyes closed?”

You nuzzled his forehead pressed onto yours, "Already there."

"Atta girl." Din leaned into another kiss.

He left and changed quickly. Gave you enough time for you to collect your hair up and over the pillow from where it got mussed, hugging a pillow to yourself in his place, still giddy at making the Mandalorian lose himself.

Making Din lose himself.

By his dulled footsteps and overhead bar of light painting a Mandalorian-shaped shadow onto the door again, you hid in your pillow dramatically. The rumbles of his voice carried to you as the door closed and he crawled back to you as before; bare to the room once more and laughing at your comical eagerness for him to shed the helmet again.

"Ok–" Din’s welcoming hand pulled your arm down; familiar, to when he'd collected your hands at the start.

"Hey you." You cooed shyly.

"Hey you." He purred back.

You lifted up into another kiss, this one much calmer and softer, having been sated in the most tender way with him.

Settling back, breathless you muttered out a quick 'hey' to bring him back to the present. "Teach me how to say something?"

Obeying your pause, he slowed to a stop. "In Mando'a?” he asked.

"Mhm?"

Interest piqued his tone, “What do you want to say?”

What your heart’s been singing for months every moment he has his back turned. What you’ve meant and said a thousand different ways other than the three standard words. Only this time, you want him to be in on the secret, too. You wanted to be able to tell him this in a way that will only resonate with him:

“..I wanna say 'I love you'.”

Din went rigid. Then straightening up, he brushed your hair back soothingly, falling to a whisper- another secret.

"We would say..ni kar'tayl gar darrasuum."

“Ni cart ah-"

He chuckled, "ni kar'tayl,"

"ni kar'tayl,"

"gar,"

"gar?"

"darrasuum."

"That's it. All together?" Din guided.

You tried for all three, and when it did , it slid perfectly off your tongue so that a happy, wet sound left him. Something about it must have stung his eyes you couldn't see. You pressed a couple small kisses to his lips.

Mando’a was a gorgeous, sonorous language– and quite possibly the trickiest to pick up.

Then your tone turned curious, "Haven't… you been saying that to me? All this time?"

"You remembered." He nuzzled your forehead, but shook his head a little to answer, ‘not quite’ teased in his motion. "Kar'tayl means 'to know', or another way... It means to care deeply, to care for. Mandalorians use it for many things, depending who they speak it to. There is no word for 'love', so... "

"To really know someone is to love them." You finished sweetly.

You hit the nail on the head, and speaking that core tenet earned you a loving sweep of Din’s thumb across your cheek.

It’s inevitable; your chest was going to burst.

"That's beautiful, Din." You blissfully sighed. He snuck both arms around you, pulling you forward. “Din Djarin.”

"It means so much," he whispered, "--coming from you..."

In that moment, you hoped his heart could rest…

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Din lays at your back, having nestled up subconsciously overnight.

His arm -the perfectly still, bracing one he relies on when he scouts- found its place so easily spooned beneath yours. Proof you are part of a matching set: intwined in love and bond and safety, even in sleep– at least to him, who you knew once felt he didn’t deserve such sweetness and warmth.

This would have been nothing out of the ordinary, nothing out of character for Din to do with you in bed. He cuddled you nightly, religiously, from that first evening onward, sharing your bed and souls alike since you spoke your first word of love to him. Normally, you’d welcome it, you always welcome him.

But– not now. Now, it set you on edge. Since his last shift of the blankets when he rolled over, you haven’t been able to fall back asleep. In uneasiness, you lie awake and aware of how a once tender act was wrong. Your conscience nags at your gut: no, no, no.

Not like this.

He doesn't know what he's doing.

Stop him.

Tell him to move.

Move him.

You willed yourself awake when Din curled in; you really shouldn’t allow this. But for the sake of his rest as all the docs all say he needs, you let him seek his peace however makes him the most comfortable, content enough to watch the ongoing lanes of traffic of early and late commuters of the Ring out your window’s slats.

Sleep wasn’t easy for you now anyway– not with this every present knot in your throat. It’s set to burst when your mind wanders too far towards what got you here…

There were two callsigns you memorized since meeting Din– not as a request or favor, but a demand. One of course, was his, and the other belonged to one of the last Mandalorians standing from his former covert as a last resort. One that he quizzed you on over and over about answering, ‘should anything ever happen to me’.

One day, that callsign just pinged you– and sent a good bit of ice into your stomach when you greet a wide-cut blue helm filling your holo.

“Master Vizsla.”

“Lady Djarin,” Paz greeted with a warm-enough familiarity.

Something in the way he chose how he delivered his words around you told you that he’s perhaps making an effort to appear personable over a holomessage, whereas he may put on fewer airs face-to-face.

You were honest,

“I feel like there’s few reasons someone like you would call me, and none of those reasons strike me well…”

“ I’ve only said two words, little bird. Your intuition is a curious one,” his helmet shook a little, “-though, not misplaced...”

You leveled your face, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“I have news. I recovered your riduur. He is alive, though not in the same state as when he left you.”

Now that is a curious response.

You outsourced yourself for a job and have taken a good, six-week-long hiatus from your shared space rented on the Glavis Ringworld pursuing your own contracts. Although confident in this share of responsibility, it’s been harder being away from each other than either of you anticipated. You spoke on comms for each other’s voices about every other rotation in your separation, though never nearly as far from each other’s mind. But this was your marriage, one you honored in every way- together or apart.

And anything to bring in some extra credits, and… take your mind off the kiddo’s absence… has been a welcome distraction.

Only now, with Paz’s news, you’re both relieved and far more anxious to learn just why Din hasn’t answered your hails from an unusual, weeklong stretch of radio silence…

“Sorry, not the same– state?” you asked, “what do you mean? What about his state…”

Before your headspace had the chance to spin– running wild with concern over his body, what he could have suffered, could have fought, could have breathed, ingested, poisoned–

“...state of mind, I fear.” was Paz’s cool answer. “He has lost his Path, and you need to help him guide it back where it belongs.”

This, as it would turn out, was not so easy a malady to heal.

You met Paz at his transmitted coordinates to collect your husband and work through what was to become the biggest challenge this -or any relationship in your life- has ever faced:

Fekking carbonite sickness. Or whatever corrupted version of it Din Djarin had quite literally trapped himself into.

While on his own mission, Paz recovered a poorly thrown together carbonite freezer that a petty gang abandoned, with a select few targets within. One of which entombed none other than his own kih’vod. The reason why he described it as ‘a botched job’ was that the alchemical readouts of said carbonite chamber pointed to a tainted solution: not pure in ingredients that typically secure a clean, minimally-invasive freezing process. When you start cutting corners to save costs, you compromise the effectiveness of the flashfreeze. Some sentients did not survive this treatment; though it was a blessing Din clearly did– though not before taking a unique toll.

Typically, carbonite would blitz your vision, your extremities; make you feel like a ten-ton transport has dragged you across the Dune Sea then set you spinning through a wash cycle, expecting you to walk a few miles blindfolded as a cool down without a single misstep.

It makes you drowsy– not lose your short-term memory.

When Din awoke, the questions posed to him concerning what events led him to his present predicament went unanswered. Not from a place of obstinance, but complete confusion. He’s unsatisfied with himself, the frailty he feels. Being stripped of the mind stung equally as bad as if it had his body– which conveniently, was also hurting.

He got angry, Paz said– furious as to what could have altered his head and made him feel so out-of-body. There were decent chunks of recent days, weeks he claimed he could not recall. That list grew as he couldn’t even say what his last paygrade was, what he’d done with the Guild for the last year, what had become of the covert on Nevarro. When he glanced at a darkly mirrored reflection of himself, he didn’t know how he procured the newer portions of his chromed armor.

The bad news continued to careen out of control. He didn’t recognize the mudhorn etched on his shoulder; had to ask the Armorer why that creature was added. To her immovable surprise, she sobered at how serious this truly was. He didn’t know his Clan? Of its addition?

He didn’t..--he didn’t know the name Grogu. Never even heard of such a species.

When shown a holopic of the kid, he simply looked at you and asked if something like that could speak- could maybe answer to what happened to him. That nearly broke you on the spot if the Armorer hadn’t ushered a still-throbbing Din to sit and receive a medical consult and diverted your attention. The whole scene was a heartbreaking one, though Vizsla spared you most of the big questions you wanted to ask by ripping off the emotional bandaids himself.

It was by Paz’s explanation that Din had been told that you were his wife, his riduur. For some strange reason, he accepted that quickly. Explained straight away why you stuck around. But in the hours and days that followed, your partner was far from the cozy and nurturing man you’ve known for so long. Even if he tolerated you, he still appeared to consider you a stranger. You knew why, and therefore didn’t blame him one bit. He was hard enough on himself for his failings on a good day. Getting himself into such a vulnerable situation and having to nurse this blasted headache everyday that barely seemed to let up would naturally only make that self-image worse. His steps fall heavier, carrying weight unseen.

It was clear a depression was setting in as the hard first days melted into a week. Into two. The man you loved walked through your shared home as a cold, distant shell of himself, filled to the brim with unspoken anger, confusion, guilt, and lost pain.

While in your company every day, you led most of the talking- just about practical things. Suggestions when he lost his train of thought, simple choices, graciously avoiding the oliphant in the room by keeping topics in the moment with your usual, helpful nature. It’s your default and, so, hard to break; but for the most part, Din Djarin accepted that too with nods and hums of agreement. He poured himself into some easy reconnaissance missions and errands to try and pull himself out of the dark, but he offered very little depth of dialogue with you, claiming he’s focusing on meditation. Centering himself.

But you knew better. Centering, introspection– that takes a different form with Din when he’s in a bad headspace. He’s hating himself, punishing: for being a disappointment, to be your problem.

Though… oddly enough… your nighttime routine had not really changed. That’s the most bittersweet feeling of all of this.

When it came that first night to talk about your living arrangement, he insisted that nothing change: for you to keep your bed, and he would busy himself elsewhere. But as you both just talked things through about what your next steps should be, sitting side by side against the headboard watching the nightlife stream in through the porthole of your room, your drowsiness took root, and he somehow fell asleep right beside you– as though nothing had changed.

In the silence of morning, he didn’t speak on it; you carried about your days as before, getting by. But sure enough, when you’d catch up at the end of the day, the same sinking feeling around you would hit at the same hour, you’d lie down, wake with him having never left his side of the bed, and the cycle would repeat.

A poignant, if painful, reminder of what connection still stood between you– and what little comfort the universe was offering you in the midst of a horrible situation through your Mandalorian’s touch.

Still, you know it’s not the same. It’s instinctual, not intentional. You don’t cry anymore about it. You’re all sniffled out, though your throat hasn’t gotten the memo. It seizes every time he calls you by name instead of Cyar'ika.

So here, he sleeps behind you: seemingly none the wiser about the more amorous nights that bombarded your god-awful, precious memories. These dreams, they keep you awake at all hours of the early morning when even Din’s subconscious cries out to hold you. To allow him to sleep by your side when surely his entire world felt numb and unfamiliar? It was his blessing, and your nightly curse.

A noise, finally. A little catch, high behind your neck- a barely-there attempt to wake up. In trying, he squeezes you in, then settles with a soothed groan. Din’s nuzzling between your shoulders. The scent of your conditioner must be the only thing keeping him in such a drowsy state. On the edge of sleep, he’s still able to make you melt with his rarely-seen gentle nature.

And despite the circumstances, you laugh at this, softly.

"What are you doing?" you ask of yourself more than him: but he answers…

"Mmmm... y'r warm.."

Now that’s your Din. That’s your Darling talking.

It’s him… and not.

"Djar…” you sighed with a catch in your chest, “Honey, wake up."

You’d shown him where he stowed his helmet on the shelf while you slept and that you’d never get up before him, so he didn’t feel exposed. It was torture though– you always woke up before him now and were subject to his snuggly nature: sans the intimacy you once shared by turning into each other. That wouldn’t be fair now, wouldn’t be right, even if it was what you craved the most about mornings with him. For now, you’d face away, until he was ready.

Din stirred again. His limbs gave a quivering squeeze to wakefulness. You knew it the moment he must have opened his eyes, because his breaths seized. He’s aware, then... even more aware.

"Oh,” he broke through his morning voice with a rush, “I'm so sorry-- I was just-"

"It's ok, just relax,” you threw confidence into your voice, “How’s the head?"

“It um.. It’s ok. Kind of achey.”

“C'mon. Lay down and rest.” You’re selfish and can’t help settling in, "It's not like we have to get up yet. Paz still has the speeder, so we can stick to this side of town until he brings it back."

You held onto his wrist carefully, returning it to its lax spot between your breasts, just where it fits. You just want him lucid; even if he doesn’t hold you as tight as he used to.

After the Grogu holo incident, you couldn’t bear to ask him more about what he does or doesn’t recognize. You couldn’t bear to ask him if he remembered you, and you wouldn’t, even now. How could he, after all? If he didn’t even know the face of his own son, what chance did you have? You’d met him months after taking on his charge. Based on the gap of time Din struggled to remember, you certainly fell within that ocean of nothingness. No, you didn’t bother to ask him things of that nature. You simply accepted his companionship and moved along.

At your word, Din nests back in, presumably to get a few more minutes of sleep. But then, he breathes in, and you sense it’s not purely therapeutic, the way he’s settled into you. He’s scooted closer, and not to readjust his posture. He’s moved your hair, and not to get it out of his face for his comfort–

He starts– kriff, he’s kissing you. Kissing you like he means it. Little pecks. Your neck, your shoulder, and– you stop him.

"D- babe,- you don't have to,” the warning lights fire off in your brain, holding his wrist firmly now.

Din mumbles more between presses, "I want to.”

"Mando, you-"

"Call me Djarin again."

The way he hushes you, so fekking softly, it sounds like him… dank ferrick. .

Stars, it’s weird. This whole thing is weird. When was this supposed to let up, a vague ‘week or two, come back for a new assessment and we will review the prognosis’? You try to hope he’s feeling more like himself after a good night’s rest, but you can’t really explain this behavior.

Your restraint now is a testament, a promise to protect him as he’s always protected you:

" You’re–” you shoot yourself in the foot and craft the words as they break your heart. “You're not yourself. I can't ignore that. I know it, even if you don't."

You’ll curse this blasted phase in the future, when everything settles and eventually goes back to normal. But this is the one time you’d ever call such tender treatment truly insufferable. He pauses in his affections,

"--No," Din then counters, gentle and curious, "I… I remember this part..."

Remember what? You’ve shown him video still after still when he asks, letting him lead his own recovery journey as he wills. You obviously do your best, but it hurts you– and you’re not so sure he doesn’t notice judging by the sweet ways he apologizes for troubling you.

You’re sure he’s being kind. "Do you, now."

Facing the wall with empty focus, you kept your sights down, ignoring how he braced himself on one arm and attempted to turn you onto your back. You followed the give of his hand’s press on you, but not much. And of course, you still didn’t look at him. Can’t stomach him revealing himself to you when you assume he’s doing it out of duty; what’s expected of him as an unwilling, ‘newfound’ spouse.

But when he spoke again, the barest of touches skidded along your collarbones, up the neck…

"You were born with these,” Din shares with a reverence. “Here. Little Ones, from the sun. But this: this was an accident. When you were small; your skin was too new."

Your eyes honed on a red traffic light outside– the sight of it mimicked your alarm. He’s brushing a scarline– yes, from a childhood incident you told him about… months ago…

"You really can't see it unless your face turns red. Pretty sure I’ve seen that,” Din trails off, sets to brushing your cheek, “Turns white, against the curve. You get embarrassed, but I remember telling you to quit–”

"--to not worry about it." you finished as a whisper. “Din.”

‘Makes you who you are. Pretty as a picture, meshla. Think of it as a brushstroke, when the Maker was putting on the finishing touches of you.’

He knows. He does know you. He hasn’t forgotten?

Your eyes stung when you tried to blink the memory away. This makes no sense…

"I’m sorry- you remember that…” you shake in awe, “But– not?…"

Grogu?

"I know." His brow furrowed, "or.. rather, I don't."

His hand set atop your bicep– something grounding.

“I want to," he begs of you, "Truly, I want to say I feel like I’m nearly there. If only to convince you to look at me.”

You laid flat the rest of the way. Mostly so you could better hear him and not make him think you’re hiding, but also, you could now reach him more comfortably.

Bittersweet tenderness braided you two together-- here in an unbelievable turn of events.

You lifted your eyes to him at last. Din whispers again,

“Angel Eyes…”

The endearment makes you nearly sob. Dammit, he does remember. Relief, grief, it’s all muddy.

"I don't remember my foundling’s name.” you’re crushed at how mournful he sounds, “-which is a sin in its own right…" But he speaks with life-rendering conviction, "But I know I told you mine. I know where we stood, which light panel on the Crest I turned off, how you- h-how you kissed me back that day.”

Your foreheads touch, the invisible string pulls you to do it. The lids of your eyes shut on contact with the ebb of a hurricane behind your eyes.

“Please use it-" Din asks of you, "-until I can remember all of the rest. Until I can remember every time I have ever told you ‘I loved you’-- and revive it, tenfold."

The tsunami's pressure strikes you down. You bury your sob down your windpipe and lunge for him– to kiss sense into him if it's the last thing you do.

And kiss, you do: for the release, for answers, for solace in an unfair time. For whatever reason, your riduur finds the same comfort, though he is desperate at the other end of the spectrum. You, in knowing a shred of him still exists and rejoicing in that; in him, grasping onto that one fact like it’s the only thing he has.

His entire energy is sad beyond belief, but he looks at you like you're his lifeline when you part. Din wets his lips- masking a tremble by how he bites it.

"This is the only thing that feels normal. Feels right. I don't understand it…"

The shadow of his humility shines, even as he wallows in his present struggle.

"You'll get there,” you swore through tears- not all of them sad anymore. “If this is any proof, you'll get there. Won’t last forever."

You share another kiss for healing. By how his brows seem to even out, you wonder if it’s actually helping to ease the pain after all. It’s firm, longing. It’s all you have to give him.

Din looks you over as he’s in close proximity- refamiliarizing himself with every high point in your face, every contour, and gives a genuine smile.

“Pretty sure…” he worked through the whirl of ideas behind that dreamy gaze, “... had a dream about that kid. Kept taking that– did he try to take the gear shift off the Crest? Y’know, the ball end? Think it was a toy?”

And finally: you laughed for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, he did! It’s the one thing that survived the crash!” you burst into happy tears. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it~ see? You’re–”

"You haven't laughed. Not in days," Din interrupts– "I like it when you laugh."

You hear it once more, plain as day:

I love hearing you laugh.

–like it was yesterday…

"I know you do." you calm yourself. "Maybe one of these days, you'll remember how you bring it out of me."

He considers you, and a funny little aire of critique passes across his face.

“Something tells me that’s not hard to do. I’ll try my best,” he scrunches his perfect nose, “M’not a comedian though, fair warning. ”

“That’s ok. It’s your delivery that’s the funniest part. Munchkin thinks so,” you reminded with hope. You worded it like a question, hoping Din would visualize the instance easier if you made it sound casual.

“Seems to favor testing me, more like– what you've told me so far.” Din trails off on his own. His brow twitches, showing his head may be pulsing, but he’s fighting through it. “Better be one to mind his manners the next time we see him. Wonder if the Jedi teach that, too.”

Understanding just how many times he'd looked your way expressionless under the guise of armor, he'd learned the benefits of using words when you came into his life and makeshift home. It was a change of perspective that was all too necessary; that he could truly speak his mind and that you would listen anytime- day or night. The way he communicated was truly poetic once he felt comfortable to release the matters of his heart through his mouth.

So now, even when his mind has split and you were left to patiently wait out for his memories to return in full force, you'd simply hold his hand and keep the anchor set so his heartstrings could untangle themselves.

You smile despite the gap in understanding the gravity of what he'd just spoken- that Grogu was with a Jedi without hope of any visitation date that you knew of. It's still so hard without him– another pain you feel that you're shouldering alone…

“Have I said that before?" Din's flare of insecurity flared like the ebb of his headache. "I'm not making things easier by opening my damn mouth, am I…”

You sift the thoughts away, out from the forefront, "No…" you say, to ease his worry.

You're reminded of how much he is still the same Din. The power of his gentle words and the potency of laughter: the best medicine he could take. With knowing tears lining your eyes, you answered with a massage to his temple,

“It just means more, coming from you."

Translations:

Mesh’la, cyar’ika = Beautiful, sweetheart. Ka'ra jaon'kov, cuy’gar mesh’la = Stars above, you're beautiful. B’d jate = So (good) Jatne o'r ner sur'haai = Perfect (good, superlative) in my eyes. Rejorhaa'ir ni = Tell me Ni ganar’e, cyare = I have you, my sweetheart

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #may the fourth be with you #i wrote something sad for once #but i promise i landed the plane #angst with a happy ending #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff

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