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poptart-productions · 1 year

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❝ Black Swan ! ❞

[snk x reader drabble]

↳ ❝ [summary] ¡! ❞

just thinking about y/n getting sent to the world of attack on titan and building relationships with the characters <3

↳ ❝ [content] ¡! ❞

drabble ; isekai ; black coded reader ; fem reader ; mild language ; ( romantic and platonic ) headcanons ; perv! connie ; a bit lengthy

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okay so imagine wit me:

so you get isekai’d but you grew up with your old memories—very aware of the fact that this isn’t a good place to be.

you grew up with your mother who was a hunter , selling her wares and learning to use a shotgun—yes that comes in handy later.

you’d learned to live in the moment and enjoy your childhood , despite living in constant dread of the fall of wall maria.

you’d accidentally been eavesdropping on eren and armin when you met them—you don’t even remember what you said but you’ve been best friends ever since.

ngl i feel like kid!eren is a “this is my friend and my friend only” kinda kid so he was kinda disrespectful toward you at first.

but it’s when you nursed him back to health ( and your mother cooked for him ) after he got in a fight , he soon started visiting your house every day.

you always knew it was him , too because he’d always call out , “me and armin are gonna go play! wanna come with?!”

you weren’t there when eren saved mikasa but you were there to help her deal with the tremors of living through a traumatic such as that.

she moved in with you instead of eren ; you two shared a room , and you were there to help her when she had night terrors.

you and armin were close but every interaction you had when it was just you two was almost always incredibly awkward for no reason ( the reason is that he’s always had a crush on you )

ngl , you were kind of a coward—or let’s just say that you ‘knew your limits’

so you’d magically gone to merchandise with your mother in the inner wall the day maria fell.

( off topic but i love a little angst so—eren prolly harbored a bit of resentment for you after that—because you weren’t there )

you were there when the trio decided to join the cadet corps, “[y/n]. . .” armin and mikasa turned to you , expecting you to be the voice of reason.

you only shrugged , knowing eren would probably just go anyway.

he did , and so mikasa and armin followed ; you didn’t want to be alone , so you followed—figuring you could just become a nurse or something.

shadis was on your ass—pause—because you sucked at the whole training thing.

although you were born into this world , you were still of the 21st century—you really couldn’t do it ; the early days and late nights , the grueling physical training , the standing around under the burning sun for hours for seemingly no reason , the food

yet somehow , you didn’t get kicked out and eren wouldn’t let you quit.

the three tried their best to help you improve , and with eren’s aid ; you became a master at using the odm gear.

and by aid , i mean using the gear recreationally without shadis’s knowledge.

thinking about sneaking out to use the gear with eren.

his dumbass prolly got caught too :(

you cracked under pressure during the trost mission ; you’d been absent for the drama up until this point—and you knew it was going to happen—but you’ve never seen death up close before.

to make matters worse , you were separated from the trio—which had become your lifeline.

you were probably about to die when reiner , of all people, came to your aid.

you had been trying to keep your distance from him and the rest of the warrior unit , hyperaware that their betrayal was imminent.

he knew it , too ; he knew that forming relationships with a devil of paradis was a bad thing.

but despite that ,

he wanted to.

as for your relationship with all the cadets—

reiner

i’m sorry but i’m a firm believer in loverboy! reiner—reiner who falls in love with any girl who’s kind to him—helps if she’s pretty. you have both ofc so yes , you piqued his interest , smiled in his direction , and he’s been smitten ever since

bertholdt

platonic : i feel like your friendship with bert is more of a silent understanding than anything ; he helped you out—saved your ass during the trost battle alongside reiner—when he didn’t have to. we all know he has feelings for annie though

romantic : now for wishful thinkers, he’d literally be so cute oml—he’s shy and isn’t assertive , but he melts when you’re around. always excited whenever you two are paired for literally anything.

annie

platonic : we all know she acts like she doesn’t care when in reality , she’s gone out of her way to help you numerous times.

romantic : to be completely honest , i’m not sure how annie would show romantic interest other than being more tolerant than usual.

marco

platonic : literally so sweet , always making sure you feel comfortable and happy , although you don’t really get to spend much time with him :(

romantic : still so sweet , just a bit more than usual—asking if you’re okay after missions , giving you his food , buying you small trinkets.

jean

platonic : jean can be belligerent at times , it’s the reason he only had one real friend ; with your foresight , you were willing to see past that. jean just wants to be liked—for people to see his talent. you did. jean appreciated that.

romantic : we all know he has a thing for mikasa but i don’t think his feelings for her are unshakable—if you catch them early , that is because we know he’s actually in love with her by s4 so. . .but he clearly has a thing for foreign women , strong women , and long dark hair so if you’ve got any of things : go for it!

sasha

platonic : sasha gets along with everyone , but you especially, just because you always give her your food ( baby doesn’t know it’s just bc you didn’t want it :( )

romantic : i wouldn’t go as far as to say that she’s aro but i feel like she’s not really romantically interested in anyone—in another life without titans , maybe. gives me the vibe of a friend who jokingly calls you “wifey” or gets “upset” when she sees you with someone until it’s suddenly not a joke anymore.

connie

i’m also a firm believer in perv! connie. WAIT HEAR ME OUT! he’s a closeted perv and never crosses any lines

i say closeted , but i should really just say “mildly perverted” bc he doesn’t even hide it—nigga literally took a double take when you came out of the barracks in your uniform for the first time.

he tried to laugh it off when you glanced at him but it was painful.

do not walk around in your athletic wear around him either , because he will say something ; you keep forgetting you live in an era where tank tops on women were “provocative” but it helped that no one really cared.

except connie bc—c’mon now—he’d never seen so much cleavage

once you became close enough , he’d always point and scream , “boobies!” at any sighting ( he’s such a child smh )

off topic but imagine teaching connie aave and modern slang—y’all gonna regret it—he will never shut up omfg

historia

platonic : she’d be that friend ; does your makeup , always has snacks , brushes and braids your hair—she’s quite literally the best.

romantic : ngl , i feel like historia would give zero indication that she likes you—mainly because she would act the exact same.

ymir

platonic : i think how she treats you depends on the kind of person you are ; let’s say the reader is sweet but still challenges her in a way—she likes that , and it’s always fun to trade playful jabs with you in the middle of life or death situations. ymir is just like that.

romantic : i’m sorry but no , historia only—I’M SORRY I HAVE A CRUSH ON HER TOO BUT IT JUST DOESN’T FEEL RIGHT

( okay for my wishful thinkers again : ymir is the kind to love from a distance—you can get on her protecting you with her life , but she knows you could never be fully happy with her )

mikasa

( i kind of already explained your relationships with the main three in the first half so i’ma just ramble here and you can take it how you will )

imagine being in that one scene from s3–y’know the one. resigned to her fate , mikasa smiles at you ; “you taught me how to live with a purpose , thank you”

she smiled at you , slender fingers intertwined with your eyes ; her gentle eyes letting you and eren know that it was okay—you could die like this—you three have lived a good life already. there’s no need to fight anymore.

she says your name. . .a lot

you two are attached at the hip , she gets active when you’re in danger , and she gets nervous when you two get separated—if she had it her way you’d still be sleeping in the same bed. It

mikasa is relatively soft with you ; you grew up living together after all. you were the first person to see her cry , and she openly talks about her worries with you

you know she’s afraid of being left alone , living alone , dying alone

you promised her you’d do everything together and she said “bet”

armin

likes to read with you

could and would listen to you ramble about anything for hours

he wants to help you see your ambitions through

i’m sorry but armin has an inferiority complex—so the idea of you doing anything or crying over him will break his heart and confuse him to no end.

i feel like armin gives the best hugs ; like he’s so warm and his breathing is so soft and soothing ; you two deadass fell asleep like that while cleaning the barracks.

( armin took the fall and levi made him clean the stables )

SEEING THE OCEAN WITH ARMIN—he was so so so so so pretty with the sea in his eyes and the breeze in his hair.

you were floating on your back , and he joined you ; you were just vibing , enjoying his presence when you heard him sniffling.

you turn to him ,“what’s wrong?”

“i’m just happy. this is—. . .” he turns to you , eyes wide with wonder and admiration.

“. . .everything i ever wanted”

eren

you’re his sunshine ; he’s all smiles and giggles whenever you’re around.

he’s not very verbally affectionate , but you find him gravitating towards you sometimes ; like deadass , you’ll be on the other side of the room and he’s slowly inching towards you.

pats your head a lot.

listen—i typically play the pacifist route but imagine starting the rumbling by eren’s side. . .that’s it.

y’all know i had to bring up the “what am i to you” scene

“eren!” you called , gripping mikasa’s sleeve as you stumble up the hill.

there stands eren , silhouette illuminated by the lanterns of the village below.

mikasa glanced at you , and you shrug ; she tugs you along with her as she continues to approach the boy.

you let go of her , allowing yourself to fall back—not wanting to break this moment. make no mistake , you had full intention of eavesdropping.

“everyone’s been looking all over for you—“

she noticed he was crying , and you began to walk away , “[y/n]” you jumped , glancing back to find eren staring right back at you.

“come here” he beckons , to which you stared wide-eyed for an embarrassingly long time.

you look to mikasa—who shares your expression—she isn’t much help , resulting in you having to approach him , not knowing what to expect.

eren looks away from you once again , “why’d you come looking for me?”

you stammered ,“what—because i was worried about you?” you looked at him like he was stupid.

“. . .why do you care. . .?”

mikasa raised a brow , and she intuitively understood what was going on ; she began to inch away without either of you noticing. well maybe eren noticed , but he wasn’t particularly concerned with that.

“because—“

“is it because we’re childhood friends?” he turns to you once again , walking closer to you.

“or is there some other reason?”

you turned to mikasa again , only to find her gone.

“eren—i—“

you knew you couldn’t fumble this , but you didn’t know what to say.

you remembered acting out what you’d do if he asked you this—but now that he was actually in front of you. . .eyes glassy , face dusted red , and lips raw from being gnawed on in his nervous state. . .you were at a loss for words.

your hand found your chest , a failed attempt at making your heart be still—but in your silence , you found an answer.

“you’re everything to me. . .—i , love you.”

you looked up at him again , and he smiled at you—for the first time in a long time , he smiled

he reached out to touch you , caressing your face before drawing closer to you ; he inched closer , and then pulled away—unsure and nervously.

he was shaking , and you were too ; but you’d been wishing for this kiss for a long time , so you leaned forward and pressed yourself into him

it was clear he didn’t know what he was doing but he had enthusiasm ; the years of built-up romantic tension helped.

slightly off-topic but i just imagine sasha bounding up the hill—“YES!” she fell to her knees in tears upon seeing her ship getting together.

↳ ❝ [tags] ¡! ❞

@y-yinyang , @cafesho

↳ ❝ [nova’s notes] ¡! ❞

considering making a series of this. . .lmk

bc i'm kind of in love with this

#anime #fanfic #eren x reader #black coded reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x female reader #mikasa x reader #armin x fem reader

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

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What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

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fuck I still haven't done the rewrite of the Mutant Town AU that I specifically came off hiatus to write, like the Plant Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts were written to prep this au and I just got wildly distracted so uhhhh

yeah the concept is in the link but the gist is that the people and town becoming mutated by constant ectoplasmic contamination, we all know and love this concept right but I'm gonna expand on it

this is a direct result of the portal being opened, but they aren't getting infected from the portal, the issue is that creating a permanent opening into the ghost zone has weakened the veil between their worlds and Amity Park and the Ghost Zone sort of slip in and out of each other constantly

and because ectoplasm responds strongly to emotions (poltergeists being made from atmospheric emotions for example) it all tends to converge very heavily at the school full of hormonal teenagers

so Casper High becomes its own god damn cryptid, the teachers get so jaded about opening the door to a classroom and finding just a whole ass ghost zone on the other side that they just put a sign on the door telling kids to go to a different room, lockers swap contents with other lockers so kids have started putting their names on the inside so they know who's stuff they've just found

this also means the kids get super affected, like super affected, literally, they all get ghost powers, some are just physical mutations, some are just super abilities, or a general increase in natural ability, like a member of the track team getting super speed

it takes a while for Danny and co. to figure this out, Sam and Tucker should have been warning signs as they've spent the most time around ghosts and the ghost zone, but that's why the Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts are important

they have powers, but they thought they came exclusively from outside sources, they had no idea that their abilities were also strengthened and influenced by being highly contaminated by ectoplasm, which is why when one day Mikey sneezes and green acid shoots out of his nose and melts his desk, everyone is a little bit startled

the teachers have long since started using ghost detectors after the time Paulina spent a whole week overshadowed by Kitty, so Mikey gets a check over and other than the usual atmospheric reading Lancer gets nothing especially strong from him

there have been concerns about the gradually increasing ectoplasmic content in the air messing with ghost detector results, the devices have to be recalibrated constantly, so Lancer asks the one and only son of the local ghost hunters in the room if he has some other way to check

Danny's parents make him keep a few protective items in his schoolbag, so he tries some gear on him to see if anything comes flying out, but nothing does, Danny isn't too surprised seeing as he couldn't sense a ghost in the room anyway, but it definitely makes things a little concerning

even if it were a repeat of the Spectra incident and he wasn't being overshadowed, the Fenton's tech would have still gotten rid of whatever was causing this if it were an external influence

Mikey is sent home for the day and his parents are told to keep an eye on him

and then the next week, Star drops a pen off her desk and a strand of her hair whips out to grab it, she's also checked for ghost influence and sent home

a few weeks after that it happens again, a kid on the basketball team makes a leap to the net and stays in the air, they have to call in the cheerleaders to climb on top of each other to reach him and pull him down

Danny has been trying to figure out what's happening from the first moment with Mikey, and his parents have also been getting calls from worried parents who want to know if they can fix whatever's happening to their kids

over the next couple of months, every kid in the school has some kind of ability or mutation, Dash heals whoever he touches, which he discovers after punching Nathan in the face and curing his acne, Paulina turns invisible, which freaks her out at first until she realises it's great for eavesdropping, Wes can conjure fire (because I desperately needed him to have a polarising ability to Danny), Kwan becomes empathic and can feel and influence people's emotions

Valerie also had an early mutation that she didn't know about, when Technus gave her a new suit, her body pretty much just absorbed it as a part of her, Technus had not intended this to happen, and was pretty peeved about it, Valerie found out that she had stolen control over the suit when Technus had a big rant about it during a fight, and she put the pieces together once other kids started developing abilities

this whole thing causes a ton of chaos as kids are struggling to control what they can do, so Danny has to step in and help them out, he often has to run off to change into Phantom in order to protect everyone from an ability that's gone haywire, he ends up pretty much running ghost power training courses after school to help them control themselves

he's also gotten stuck in situations where he's had to step in and help someone without having the time to change forms, meaning he has to make up a cover story about having developed his own powers way before everyone else since he's been living on top of a portal for years, he only tells people about his ice powers

Jazz has always had a tendency to be able to reign in her emotions and keep a cool head, (the only ones who can really push her buttons are Danny and sometimes her parents, at school around other kids who look up to her she's often very in control) meaning she doesn't draw ectoplasm to herself all that much, and though Danny uses the excuse of having lived on top of a ghost portal to explain why he's already so familiar with using his power, it's actually not even remotely true, because the Fentons use specialised air purifiers to keep the atmospheric ectoplasm at a manageable level, the Fenton house ironically has the least atmospheric contamination compared to the rest of the town, that's how Maddie and Jack have had limited mutation to themselves (though they aren't wholly free, they've mostly just gotten physically stronger and tougher)

so even though Jazz develops her power a little earlier than everyone else's, it's not that far ahead, and she actually doesn't even realise she already has one until half the school has developed theirs

Jazz has the power to slow time in a little bubble around herself, she'd been using it without realising while studying, having gotten through hours of work in half that time, she always thought it was just her losing track of time or she was just getting faster at reading, she also spends a lot of time counselling other students and trying to help them sort out their problems, and they'd often comment that they felt like they'd been talking for so much longer than they had, again she just chalked it up to losing track of time

a lot of students had wondered why Danny developed a power early and Jazz hadn't, until someone walked in on Jazz helping a girl through a panic attack in the bathroom, and found them both talking extremely fast, a lot of her friends realised in hindsight that she'd been doing that unwittingly for quite a while, nobody had noticed because she always talked to people privately, so nobody outside her little time bubble had seen it happen

Sam and Tucker come clean about their abilities too, but they also don't give the full rundown, still keeping some things close to the chest to avoid standing out from everyone else

then there's the teachers

adults typically have a better time regulating emotions than teenagers, meaning much like Jazz they aren't drawing as much ectoplasm toward themselves, but this doesn't exempt them from developing something after a while, especially with the heightened stress of managing a school full of volatile super kids

Mr Lancer discovers that he can create shields, after an incident where he jumps in front of some students to protect them from another power gone awry

Tetslaff ends up with a sonic ability, able to project her voice like a megaphone (yes this is a Coach Boomer from Sky High reference don't @ me), Principal Ishiyama develops a physical mutation, growing to twice her size, she likes that she can tower over the students while delivering speeches, but she doesn't like having to stoop through doors all the time, she has the one to her office resized, along with her chair and desk

so as you can imagine, the town ends up erupting into chaos, a lot of kids very much misuse their abilities, Danny does his best as Phantom to teach people to be responsible, but sometimes he has to resort to literally kicking their asses to get them to straighten up

but for the most part, a ton of kids were already looking up to him, and are generally pretty happy to follow his example, especially the more popular kids, it's generally considered not very cool to get your ass kicked by Phantom, so weirdly enough a lot of kids get peer pressured into not causing any real damage or injury with their powers

this doesn't mean they don't absolutely misuse them, they're just more subtle about it

until a ghost shows up, a lot of the kids are more than happy to let loose to protect themselves and their friends, and Phantom for the most part is happy to let them, with some supervision of course, he still has to make sure nobody gets too hurt (including the ghosts)

the entire debacle makes Danny's life simultaneously a whole lot easier AND so much more fucking stressful

#lula's aus #mutant town au #danny phantom #you have no idea how hard it was to find the links to the other posts #tumblr's search system was fucking me around so much

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

Note

Hello, this is the first time I’ve come here and I’d like, if possible, you could place my order, I don’t remember if I already placed that ask or something, so if yes, sorry to bother you...

I can order something with Yandere! Vampire with a Vampire Slayer! Reader, please...

Welcome in!

Well yes boo, you did make a very similar request, and I'm sorry if it took me like a long time to answer you (at least to me it feels like a whole month has passed, time has been so slow and so fast somehow-) it's just that I'm dealing with a lot of stuff outside of Tumblr and although I try to not think about it, it does affect my performance in writing. Also you're not bothering me at all boo!

Also I just realized something, normally when I write I put really mean remarks about the reader but it's not supposed to be taken seriously by you guys, as it's mostly either an look into the perspective of the ocs (normally the bullies who are very mean and cruel-) or even an exaggeration on the reader's current mind state (if the reader feels dumb about a certain action they have chosen, I try to make them sound very exaggerated since I don't want any of you to take it personally, y'all are beautiful okay? Don't worry about the snarky comments and rude remarks that I may write).

I'll try to make it more obvious that it's mostly a character's exaggerated perspective next time, or maybe put trigger warnings about degrading language/mean comments.

TW/Tags: mentions of addiction (to blood) // male x male // male reader // vampy vamp // monster(vampire) x (human)reader // mentions of death // unofficial OC/just a random character I decided to create for this specific piece // captivity/kidnaping // mentions of torture/infliction of pain // mind control/gaslighting/manipulation and stockholm syndrome // being drugged/poisoned // kinda sadistic but not so much so cause I like giving y'all some softness.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

True love is found in small bites [Yandere!M!Vampire x M!Vampire Hunter!Reader - Headcanon]:

Who doesn't like a little one on one with an immortal creature in a fight filled with sexual tension? Who wouldn't want to prove their worth to their dad who is a lonely vampire hunter?

Your dad had hunted vampires all by himself for years now and he won't stop until the day he drops dead, or at least that's what he told you.

He taught you everything that you needed to know, and honestly- You probably know a lot more than some of the guys who are paid to do this every month, Hell, your dad hunts them basically every week! That's kinda the reason why he won't accompany you this time, too busy dealing with vampires in a neighboring village, some rumours of some high profiled vampires coming into your hometown… He was very concerned for your safety before deciding that whenever these rumours were true or not, he needed to check them for himself regardless.

You decided to go on a hunt on your own, hunt one down and prove to your man that you'll do just fine all by yourself.

However, you have the knowledge from the books you read and from what your father taught you, but you don't have personal experiences in fighting vampires. So that's why you're finally going to take down a vampire all by yourself.

It took you some time to find the right target, but after hearing complaints about some odd things happening in the less wealthy part of town, you thought you had a pretty clear picture of what happened. You thought that maybe some vampires have been attacking the poorest people in town to not cause a bigger panic in the population, and sadly enough, you were right.

Apparently the vampirism started to spread uncontrollably as the newly transformed vampires weren't accustomed with the new malevolent power. Some would get addicted to blood and to the power they hold against humans, and start to bite more than what they can chew on.

You found someone who was acting suspiciously, a commoner who was acting more aggressively towards his neighbors and family, he had created a lot of enemies in only a couple of days after being transformed, as he was now acting like "royalty" surrounded by peasants. The poor bastard was out of his mind, and sadly you needed to take care of him before he would hurt more people.

The work of a vampire slayer (or at least, one who works on their own accord) isn't as glamorous or "pleasant" as most may think, it involves you constantly questioning yourself and your morals, the guy you're hunting has a family but from what you heard and from what you have seen as you observed him from afar- He is clearly gone, consumed by the addiction of human blood, he would end up hurting his own family if you didn't intervene.

You had to stalk him for basically the whole day, collecting information and waiting for a good opportunity to strike him- Sadly enough, you didn't know that someone else was also interested in killing him.

It was pretty quick now that you think about it- You were about to tackle him when someone else got to do it before you. You didn't know about vampire society's inner relationships but you are aware that there is some form of hierarchy, and that those who were transformed into vampires were considered to be closer to the bottom than those who were born into it. The bottom of their social structure being those who they could all feed on, so in other words humans.

As you have already prepared yourself to attack the blood addictic, this guy who seemed to have come out of nowhere has already noticed that he wasn't alone, you wouldn't be able to hide yourself at this point and running wouldn't be an option considering how fast he moved.

The only option was left was to fight this vampire who was clearly way too powerful for your newbie ass. It was a pretty tough fight, and even if you have lost- You did manage to prove that you weren't just a random human who found themselves in the wrong place, in the wrong time.

You were very well prepared- Idris was pretty impressed by your resistance, but from his eyes, you were lacking a lot in the intelligence department. You were a good brawler, but not a decent vampire slayer by far- He would question you about your level of skill constantly, even mocking the idea of you being an "newbie" at this job.

Idris had won in the end, making you his prisoner who he would bring back to his clan to be used as an easy food source while also giving them info about other vampire slayers. Of course you wouldn't give them anything, no matter how bad your situation was you would still fight to the very end.

Idris had used one of his abilities to bring you two to his clan's hideout in a blink of an eye, you weren't expecting it to be so quick. You were tied up and inside an "abandoned" mansion filled with vampires, you were sure you wouldn't survive this at all- Yet you had promised yourself to not give them any information about other vampires slayers, especially your father.

You have met them, all of them- All of the Nox clan of pure vampires (or at least the last of them), in one single place. They were all so eager to jump in and start the "fun" with you. To torture you, drink from you, control your mind so you would spill all that you know, they tried to but you wouldn't stop squirming and fighting their touch- However, your attitude has only helped to aggravate them.

Idris was in charge of taking care of you- And by that they meant he was the one who would be screwing with you the most. He would keep you alive with your bare necessities but would also be the one to punish and torture you to speak up.

Interestingly enough, Idris wasn't interested in violently taking the truth out of you- Oh no, boo- He was much more sadistic than that.

He saw you as a plaything, like a cat he would see you as something he should toy with before devouring- He would try to push you to your limits verbally, trying to trigger some sort of wound you may have. You were stronger than he assumed, he should have known you weren't so dumb to give in to his insults and threats.

He would still bite you though, hey, a man needs some blood before continuing his private interrogation, right? It's not his fault you're both his snack and the one being interrogated.

You were strong minded, you weren't feeling too awful about being taken as a prisoner, since you felt as if deep down you could still escape this- So the effects of the poison that he would inject on you weren't showing up at first, but after sometime of being under this terrible living condition with only him to talk with, you started to feel some type of weird way around him.

It could be the poison finally taking over, but you have started to notice some… Particular choices that Idris took when interacting with you. Again- It could be all some magic shit in your mind, but you could swear that the lingering touches from him weren't rough or painful as his threats.

Idris was never physically harmful towards you, even to his peers dismay as they would constantly scold him for being too soft. He was indeed very off putting and sadistic- But could he be hiding something deep inside his literally cold exterior? You started to think so… Well, you started to hope so.

See, although the poison is already making your mind dizzy and making you feel some kind of weird attraction towards Iris- It wasn't completely just your mind playing tricks on you, Idris has been trying a new tactic with you and it was working.

Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but for the last few weeks he has started to flirt with you more, touch you more and whisper less concerning things into your ears, and you were eating it all up due to your isolation and his poisonous bite.

The more he sucked your blood, the more enamoured you were with his softer "side", the poison becoming stronger with each bite. But everyday you two spend time together, Idris can't help but feel just as interested in you as you are to him. He may play it off as a sadistic manipulative (which he kinda is-) vampire who is above you and his own feelings- But whenever it's just you and him, he just feels like there is a bigger connection being formed.

The more you two get to know each other the more he'll start falling for you, to the point he doesn't know if he is faking empathy and care or if he actually likes you in a weird way. He has started to feel very satisfied whenever you start acting clingy, desperate even for his attention (again- He is the only one willing to even talk with you before biting you and sucking your blood), the sensation of power he feels is a little bit overwhelming- But very much appreciated.

You have started to feel some side effects from losing so much blood everyday, which has made Idris concerned and incapable of drinking from you for at least some time while you recover from it. But since you need some time to rest without being injected with more venom from fangs, which will cause you to start waking up from your brainwashed state and remember that A: It has been months since you were gone, your dad is out there looking for you and it's possibly thinking you're dead; B: You're trapped in a mansion filled with the last vampires of a powerful clan which has been massacred by vampire slayers like you; and C: You were starting to catch feelings for the one who brought you here- Regardless of manipulation and freaky vampire shit- You were indeed falling for his charm.

Whenever that happens, it will be obvious that you'll start trying to fight them and escape again, even if you're very, very weak from all these months without proper training and healthy eating habits.

You may try your hardest dear, but you'll need a better plan than just going feral on Idris. He is a lot stronger than you, especially since you can't even stand up on your own, and even hurting him makes you feel oddly awful- You had relied on him for so long, that it feels like you would be betraying him if you actually do hurt him, it seems like some of the effects of so much time under his manipulation are still present.

You can't hurt him, but you can still try to sneak out. You should still try to escape!

You would eventually come up with a plan to run away while it was still morning, even if it was a very flawed plan considering that the only place you knew in this entire mansion was Idris's room and bathroom. For some miracle reason, you would find a way to sneak out, it was pretty hard considering you have no strength in your legs, yet luckily no one seemed to be aware of your sudden movement around the corridors- Apparently the whole clan is composed of heavy sleepers.

Your escape was successful, but you wouldn't be able to reach safety anytime soon in your condition- And you knew that eventually they would wake up again and Idris would find you soon. Yet as you had promised yourself and your father, you weren't going down without a fight.

Idris is responsible for you, so whenever he notices that you were gone- He would first assume one of his kind has took you, but considering how everyone else in the clan considers him to be a nuisance and incompetent, he couldn't possibly ask around where were you. If he did, they would end up yelling at him and take you as their personal blood bag- He couldn't let them know that you have escaped.

He would search for you and be honest to god thankful that you weren't dead yet- He would be pissed but more concerned about your current state, after all you were supposed to be resting from losing so much blood and yet here you are: Trying to survive the wild nature around the mansion in a stupid attempt of escaping the vampires.

Idris would have to bite you more often while also giving some days off so you could rest, but doing in a way that you never lose the effects of the poison- He can't stand to see you fighting him so much.

I mean- He thinks that it's pretty attractive how fiesty you are, but he needs you to stay still in his bedroom and to start giving him those confused yet passionate eyes again- Idris doesn't know whether or not you're in love with him or is just acting in instinct considering your current position, and he soon will find himself begging for you to truly give in to this weird fantasy he has built around you two- But for now, all that he wants is the smallest affection that may come from you, even if it's not as true and morally correct as true love is supposed to be.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere vampire #yandere x reader #yandere vampire x reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere male #male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere monster #yandere headcanon #yandere oc headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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soggy-platee · 3 years

Text

Doubt

Rating: M

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Summary: You get hurt doing something stupid, Din has to confront his feelings for you.

Crossposted on ao3 here!

This was bad. Like, bad bad. You had gotten into fights before, of course, been roughed up more times than you could count. But previously, you had always been able to make it back to the Crest and hide the evidence before Mando got back. This time, however, you weren’t even sure if you would make it back to the Crest alone, much less heal yourself.

Tatooine, of all places, was where you were currently limping through, Mos Eisley to be more exact. Mando had stopped for repairs and you had made the usual excuse to get yourself out of mechanic-assistant duty, yelling something about supplies over your shoulder before hustling to the nearest cantina. Mando and you had been on countless missions over the years, sometimes staying and working together for months at a time. This current run was one of the longer ones, being on your third month-long job with the Mandalorian. Honestly, you had no idea why the hell he kept working with you. You were his total and utter opposite. All talkative and friendly, and a total ass most of the time. Your skills didn’t exactly make up for your personality either, you were a half-decent hunter at best. You liked to think it was because you always filled the silence of the old ass ship he insisted on using.

You had a feeling that if he found out the stupid shit you were always getting into, it might be your last time with him. It was some fucking dumb wager you made, betting on a brawl you knew nothing about. Somehow you won, and that seemed to piss a lot of people off. You had managed to fight most of them off, everyone underestimated you at first because of your small stature. But that element of surprise only lasts so long, and there were just too many of them this time. A slash to your thigh with a rusty knife took you to one knee before a first connected with your temple, sending you sprawling on the dusty floor. After that, it had been a flurry of hits and kicks before the owner chased them off. You had lain there for a while, trying to regain some sense of up and down through your obvious concussion. When you finally lifted yourself to your knees, the only thing that was clear in your mind was the idea of Mando seeing you like this, realizing how reckless and useless you really were. That’s why you were so desperate to get back and cover the evidence. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked working with him, loved it really. It had nothing to do with the little crush you had been harboring on the metal man, you often told yourself.

The port coming into view shook you from your thoughts. No sign of the Mandalorian yet. You tried to hurry, but the deep cut on your thigh stung in protest. You tried to walk as smoothly as possible, the last thing you needed was some other low-life on this dump planet to try to rob you in your weakened state. The high walls of the building loomed over you, casting you in shadow as you moved through the entrance. You moved as silently as you could, listening for the slightest movement to indicate the presence of your partner. The place was silent besides the small tinkering of the pit droids in some corner. You grimaced to yourself, at least this was working out for you .

You limped up the ramp into the dark hold. Making your way to your bunk, you fumbled around in the darkness for your own little stash of medical supplies. You only ever took from your personal stuff; the last thing you needed was being caught because Mando noticed his shit was missing. He had enough of his own wounds to worry about. You precariously gathered all your things into one hand, the other holding your upright. A bacta shot slipped, clinking loudly on the floor as a wave of dizziness came over you. Your hand immediately shot to the wound on your thigh.

Fuck , that was way more blood than you thought. You dipped down to grab the shot, the same dizziness doubling with the movement. Finally, after a few seconds of fumbling, your bloody hand found the cold tube. At the same time your fingers closed around the object, the cockpit door slide open with a metallic hiss. Your head shot up to the sound only to find the large outline of Mando hovering over you in the doorway. He was silent as were you, caught in a contest in the near-darkness of the hold. You swallowed hard. He was usually quiet, but this time, you could feel the anger radiating off him in waves.

Finally, he moved, hitting the first rung and the second before leaping down with a resounding thud . The moment he landed you shot up as fast as your injured state could allow. You both rose straight in tandem. He was directly in front of you, making your height difference more than noticeable. It made you feel even worse, even more, insignificant compared to the warrior in front of you. It was still too dark to make out his features, or lack thereof, but you could hear the creak of his leather gloves as his gloves clenched and unclenched.

Holy shit, he was pissed.

Your mind was racing, maybe you could still get out of this. Apologize like crazy, get out of his sight before he could realize just how bad you had fucked up, how hurt you were. You just hoped to God that he wasn’t using any special settings in his helmet to see you in the dark.

Finally, the damn broke.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

Your brain went into overdrive, getting ready every half-assed excuse you could. Before you could get a word out, he trampled over you nearly shouting, “You were gone for an hour , and now the whole fucking town is talking about the brawl that you were at the center of? Over a fucking bet ? How reckless can you -”

Your anger grew as he grew louder, words getting harsher. Who the hell did he think he was? Yeah, yeah you fucked up, but he wasn’t your fucking dad. W hy did he get a say in what you did anyway?

“Sorry, we can’t all be as fucking upstanding as you, okay? I was blowing off a little steam, Jesus , it’s not that big of a deal…”

You could hear his surprised grunt under your tirade, actually physically moving away an inch at your verble assault. He recovered quickly though, leaning back toward you, leaving only inches between you as he growled, “ Not a big deal ? You know what kind of people are on this fucking planet, how much trouble you could get into?”

You paused, confused. Wait, was he mad at you because you got into trouble or because you could get into more?

Your pause made him continue, lecturing you firmly about how reckless and stupid your actions were. You just took it, hoping he would give up soon and leave you alone. He would have to quit soon if there was any hope of still hiding your injuries from him, you were growing fainter by the second, all previous anger seeping out along with your strength. The blood from your leg had to be pooling onto the floor by now.

There was a break in his speech, so you interjected in a feeble attempt to end the conversation. “ I’m sorry... I get it. I was wrong.” you practically whispered.

“You’re sorry ? I don’t-”

Suddenly, the ship was filled with an overwhelming light. You lifted a hand to shield your eyes, shoulders hunching as the light hit your face. Mando spun in comparison, stance low as he searched for an assault. After a moment, you both realized that the floodlights of the hanger had come on, compensating for the now-low light of sunset outside. In the same second, you realized what Mando would turn to see. You tried to hide, pulling your injured thigh as far back as you could without falling over. But it was no fucking use, bruises smattered your face and arm, dried blood leaving a trail from your brow-

He turned, freezing once his visor met your pained expression. He stood still for a moment and you started with your excuse, “Listen, it’s not as bad as it looks. I can do it myself if you just-”

He was on you a second, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you back to sit on the lip of your bunk. You were shocked as you were sat down, he hardly ever touched you, let alone with the firmness and caring that he was using now. His hands moved to cup your face, turning it back and forth, taking in the damage. You braced for a lashing.

Instead, his voice was deadly low when he asked, “Who did this?”

You jerked in his grip, “What?”

He gripped your face tighter, thumb brushing over your cheek before repeating, “ Who did this ? Just give me a name and they’re fucking dead.”

Your dumbfounded expression was reflected in his visor. Wasn’t he just mad at you?

“I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I didn’t know you were...hurt.”

Whoops, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.

His hands probed their way from your temples down your body, noting every bruise and mark. Finally, he reached the cut on your leg, hissing through his modulator as he felt the sticky fabric around the opening.

He sighed your name as he took in the extent of the damage, “God this is- Why didn’t you tell me ?”

You shifted nervously on your bunk, you couldn’t tell him the truth. It was lame, it was weird . It would freak him out, how much you wanted to stay with him.

I’m so desperate to stay with you I’d rather bleed out than tell you I fucked up.

Yeah, that would go over well.

So you simply acted aloof, hoping to God that he would buy it. As he continued to inspect you leg, you plastered a fake grin on your face and spoke down to him, “Come on Mando, you don’t think that I can handle some cuts myself?

His helmet shot up to your face so fast your expression faltered, giving way to wide eyes and parted lips. He seemed pleased with himself at breaking your facade, grunting in approval as he returned his attention downward.

The both of you were silent as he dug his hand through the medical supplies you had retrieved initially. He started at the cut, snipping away the fabric with careful precision. You had a death grip on his shoulder while he cleaned and cauterized the ugly thing. He kept checking with you, breaking every few minutes with “Are you okay?” , “You’re doing great” , and “Almost done, just hang on.”

What the hell did you do to deserve this, all his devastating kindness?

When he moved to the cuts on your head, you were totally unable to keep your face neutral. Your eyes were saucers, desperately trying to burn this image into your memory. His soft gloves brushing your hair away, helmet titled in concentration. As he cleaned the various areas, one hand soon came to rest on your hip lightly, helping him maintain his crouched position. You couldn’t help the soft smile that overtook your features. You doubted he even knew what he was doing, doubt he knew just what the hand was doing to you.

The pain was getting to you now. Through the bliss of Mando’s hands on you and the numbness of the blood loss, each breath shot stabbing pains through your body. You tried your best to be quiet, accept his treatment without any fuss, but as he reached on a particularly bad cut just above your brow, a whimper of pain slipped from your pursed lips. He pulled back instantly, visor pointing to your eyes. You gave him a tight smile in return, grunting, “I’m good. Keep going.”

He sighed, weighing your words, then slowly returned to his task. God, it felt like molten lava on you, every brush of the cloth made you impossibly tense. No doubt Mando felt you tighten under his grip as he spoke, “What can I do?”

You didn’t even think before you responded through clenched teeth, “ Just talk ...please.”

To his credit, he didn’t laugh at your request. Didn’t even hesitate in fact. He just started talking, to your amazement.

“You know, I was fucking pissed when I was in town and heard you had gotten into that fight... God , I was fucking angry with you…”

You winced at his words, even though you knew the sentiment was well deserved.

“But then I was scared. You could’ve...I was scared you were hurt. I started toward the cantina to find you before, before-I just kept picturing you hurt and it scared the shit out of me.”

You didn’t know what to say, silence falling over the hull once more as you fell short. He had to be kidding, just something to keep you occupied.

You knew that was wrong, as his hand had fallen from your face long ago. It wasn’t a distraction, it was a confession. You should be overjoyed, it was absolutely everything you ever wanted to hear from him. So why weren’t you?

Your brain couldn’t process why, so your mouth took charge, words tumbling from your mouth in a desperate attempt to understand.

“But I didn’t-that was all my fault . I was stupid, reckless , you said it yourself. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you worrying about me over that shit. I fucked up, I fucked up big and -”

He cut you off with a squeeze of your hip, skating his helmet back and forth to your confusion.

“I was just scared and I took it out on you...I’m sorry for that. I don’t like that you think that way. I don’t want- ” he took a breath, collecting himself by ducking his helmet down before returning to face you.

“What I am trying to say is that I don’t care what you did, I just want you safe.”

Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes, all the stress of the say leaving you all at once as you sagged forward, head dropping. You were overwhelmed, but happy. So fucking happy. Everything had just fallen into place and you just couldn’t hold it in.

Mando, unfortunately, took your actions to be ones of injury, as he quickly moved one hand to your jaw, fingers wrapping around your chin tightly forcing you to face him. A tear fell off your nose onto his glove, making a pleasant plopping noise.

He spoke hurriedly, “Hey-hey look at me. What is it? Something hurt?”

You grinned in his grip and grabbed him by his ammo sling. Pulling him close, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet as he let out a grunt of surprise.

You were both silent for a moment, breathing in tandem before his hand left your chin and came to rest in your hair.

“Not hurt, then?” he guesses. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“No, not hurt.” you choke out around your tears.

Another beat of silence, then, “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?”

You let out a quick laugh at his tone, it was interesting to hear the Mandalorian so hesitant.

You sighed, then said, “I was so worried when I got back here. I thought that, if you saw what I got myself into, you- well, that you wouldn’t... want me anymore.”

His hand gripped tighter in your hair, pressing his helmet more firmly into you. “ Nothing could make that happen. You hear me? Nothing .”

You brought your hand to his still on your hip, gripping it softly. “ I hear you .”

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #pedro pascal #din djarin

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pedrosbrat · 3 years

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Sorrow You Are My Light {Pero Tovar x Max Phillips x F!Reader}

CHAPTER I : Insomnia

AU - Vampire Hunters

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Language, alcohol, yearning, violence (fight) , mention of murder, sword, blood …

Summary: You and Pero were united by fate in your youth due to a tragic event. You will seek revenge from the creature that caused your common suffering all your life without success... Until you cross paths with Max Philips, forcing you to form an alliance with an enemy to destroy a common foe...

Little Comment : Hi everyone, it’s my first series, I hope you will like it (if you see any mistakes let me know and I will correct it) - 1 chapter will be published every week, every Saturday⚔️ Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

1440- Transylvania

You have been travelling on horseback for a little more than two days now, with a weather changing from very hot to very rainy, and usually it doesn't bother you, at least not really, because Pero has the decency to take breaks, it has always been like that. But for the first time in decades of travelling together, he has refused to take any breaks, because he says you are close to the goal.

You can understand it, and you feel it too, but you would still like to be able to rest, not feeling your legs or even feeling your buttocks... You don't even know if you don't feel them anymore because of the total absence of sensation from sitting on your horse for this long, or if the pain you felt yesterday has taken over and has become a friend, and the only company you feel at this moment.

Because despite his presence, Pero is far too absorbed in the mission. This is nothing new, in fact, he has always been like this, only usually he has the good sense to admit that sleep is important for a good fight, as well as a somewhat adequate physical form...

"If we are attacked by a vampire now Pero I won't be able to fight". You say as you catch up to him slightly at a gallop. "Stop complaining," he says, slightly grumpier than his natural temperament, which is bound to be an effect of lack of sleep. "I'm not complaining, I'm just right! You know very well that the lack of rest will eventually kill us, if it is not the horses that die long before us! You say, slightly annoyed by his behaviour.

He stopped short, and turned to face you, grimacing, probably aching and exhausted, unconsciously proving your point: "If he runs away, he'll kill more people! You seem to forget what this thing is capable of!" "Forget?!" you say, widening your eyes, increasingly annoyed.

Vampires: demonic beings that have occupied the lands of your country since your childhood. At first, in your youth, their presence was only a myth, which some people described as mad swore they had seen, but as time went on, the world realised that it was all real. These decaying beings, who have no chance of finding the light again, their gaze completely absorbed in the darkness, surrounded by veins resembling the shade of smoke enveloping the sky and covering all traces of the sun. They are the shadows that will hide the light of all normal life since your youth... Since that night sixteen years ago...

You know that Pero can be stubborn, but he is not so deeply stubborn that he tries to pretend to anyone who doesn't know him, although he hides it quite well, he is a gentle man and a good man... Except when he really decides otherwise, as he has done for the last forty-eight hours. So you don't try to argue or have a simple debate with him on the subject, because you know very well what he's talking about and you don't want to talk about it... You've already had enough nightmares since you were a child, so you don't need that.

You gallop alone towards the big city, from where you are not so far now, determined to make a big turn, to let your horse rest, and to rest at the same time in a real bed, and not stones under a sheet for a pillow or an old tavern of the village where you were hunting.

It doesn't matter if he follows you or not, you're far too tired and suffering to care at the moment, and being a very good tracker, you know you'll be able to find him if only a few hours separate you from each other, and at least you'll be able to fight effectively if something happens.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The city is not as jovial as it usually is. You don't know why, of course, but there's a sort of silent restlessness that mingles with an almost empty square, leaving a black shadow over all those little houses, like a feeling deep inside you that you can see floating over the city.

"Anything interesting in the sky Paloma?"

You turn, coming out of the thoughts that had completely absorbed you, to find that Pero is at your side, handing you a piece of cheese, which he must have bought at the entrance of the city, and that you grab without hesitation the rumbling belly for any substitute of food... His way of apologizing and telling you that you are right, even if he will never admit it out loud...

Pero will never admit it, but he doesn't like to see you turning your back on him. He likes your presence, even if he doesn't express it, he likes to see you smiling, annoying him, lecturing him. He likes the way you've been waddling around on your horse for the last few days, and he knows it's only because of the pain he's putting you through, and that he shouldn't like to see that, he feels a little bad about it at times.... But you are so beautiful... And that ass, God only knows how many times he's dreamed of it bouncing off him...

"Nothing special, just a bad feeling" you say, taking a bite of the end of your feeble dish, "...I don't really believe in feelings you know, but for once I have to give it to you..." he says, kicking the sides of his horse to start galloping "No we should let the king know we're back, maybe he'll explain what's going on.

You nod and follow him, speeding up in your turn, not missing the crosses on the front of each house, as well as some silver objects in front of the windows, which normally would have been looted by the small thieves of the city, but even they don't seem to want to touch them... You start to understand what is going on but don't go forward, hoping that the bad luck hasn't come to your place of living once again, where you and Tovar have decided to stay for more than two years now.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The throne room which is usually decorated with berries on every table, and bright silk draperies falling from the chandeliers to the ceiling, adorning the sides of the windows are not present, leaving the room in a dullness and sadness that the king and queen usually do not like. But they don't seem to mind, in fact in this room where all the lords are gorging themselves and filling up, they think it is much more agitated than the atmosphere outside. An almost incomprehensible hubbub envelops the room, leaving the king before you, not uttering a word, eyes fixed on you, nodding towards a guard at the back of the room, leading to the inner corridors of the castle, a neutral look on his face, leaving his wife and lords to shout complaints and fears into every ear.

He stands up curtly as the others in the room don't take the decency to stop talking as they usually would, leaving the king to walk out the back door, with you on his heels.

"Where were you?!" He says before you can even close the door to the large hallway, "On the trail of one of them my king" Pero says, bowing his head slightly. "And?" Said the king as he placed his index finger and thumb on his nose, as if trying to relieve a headache. "We had a trail... But we got away from it because of me" you say as you look the king in the eye, not flinching, assuming that a disaster may be looming over the city because of you.

The king doesn't answer and starts pacing in front of you before continuing silently, in a calm and gentle manner that must have always been endowed with "It's nothing... I think you might have guessed it when you returned to the city, but one of them is attacking an area near here..." "And no one was AVAILABLE to stop it?... Dios mío..." says pero a little annoyed that everyone is waiting on you two. "Oh, there were many volunteers... But none came back."

You turn your gaze to Tovar understanding without him actually saying it, what the king is asking you. He nods and you do the same before turning to the king, "Where? Where did you send them?" you say, already beginning to think you're going to regret it, "The Singing Mountain... There was... If you had seen what happened there...".

He couldn't finish his sentence and squinted hard, as if to chase away painful memories buried behind his eyelids. "We've seen it all our lives," Pero said before bowing and walking out to cross the throne room. You do the same, "It will be dark soon, we can't leave now, it would be too dangerous. But at dawn we'll get started. You don't share any contact with him, out of royal respect, and simply turn on your heels to join Pero, already far away, probably thinking of a plan for tomorrow.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

Your little house is on the outskirts of the village, a little out of the way, not that you don't like the presence of other people, but you are simply used to living like this: just the two of you.

You had already tried to live in separate houses in the village when you arrived two years ago, but every night was cut short by panicked screams and the search for comforting warmth next to you, visions and nightmares that you hadn't had in years, memories that were buried in the depths of your mind, every moment and every night that you spent in Pero's arms.

And you know that it was the same for him, even if he never mentioned it. He didn't have to. The simple fact that he would leave his house at one end of town in the middle of the night to join you under the sheets without saying anything and just let you snuggle up to him as you have done since you were children. So, you drifted away from the villagers, refusing to attach yourself to anyone else, only needing each other, sleeping together to hunt and seek comfort from the demons that plague you both when night falls. And sometimes even sharing each other's presence you feel that you are missing something... It's weird, and you don't know what it is. You don't talk about it... But you both feel it as well...

After setting up silver dust, under foliage all around your home and bringing back some stew that an old lady gave you in the village, thanking you for protecting them, and drinking a large pint of beer that Pero had left out in the house, you both finish your well-deserved meal in silence, savouring every mouthful of stew with a deliciousness like you've never tasted before... Or maybe you're just so hungry that everything would seem like a delicacy right now.

The same goes for the bed, having obviously finished before Pero who always takes a second bite and calls you "paloma", which according to what he told you simply means that you don't eat much for someone who is always crying out for food, like a little bird. You quickly head for your room so that you can have a nice bath without being disturbed by his lack of patience who you know would be there asking you every thirty seconds if you were almost finished, wanting to take a bath as well. So you were able to enjoy it fully until the water cooled, letting your muscles relax from the tumultuous journey and the stress dissolve for a short moment you cherished.

"I heard people talking about this mountain when we first arrived..." says Pero from the bathroom, waking you from your near sleep, now lying on the bed "Mmmh..." you reply far too tired to utter a word. Eyes still closed, you sit up slightly, knowing that he won't stop there. "The villagers always said that the devil lived in his heart... I didn't really pay attention to it, since there was never a murder... At least until now.”

You open your eyes hearing his voice much closer than it was a few seconds ago, and the reason being that he is standing by the bed, with only a sheet around his hips, placing his weapons beside him as he always does before going to bed. And for your part you try to look away as you always do before going to bed. At least when you sleep in a bed with him. At first it was quite simple and automatic not to look at him when you were younger and when he is only "dressed" like that... But lately it has become quite difficult... It has become quite difficult to avoid the vision of his broad shoulders and that torso getting thinner and thinner towards his waist, that aqualine nose that you imagine between your legs, before placing kisses on it as on his perfect lips and this goddamn perfect little line on it... And that scar on his beautiful obsidian black puppy-dog eyes, even if you're almost sure he doesn't like it, that scar on his face...That scar gives him a crazy charm... And everytime it become impossible to avoid to look at the droplets falling from his deep chocolate curls, sliding down that nape of his neck that you wish you could mark with your lips, to end up around his pure silver cross, shining on his golden and bronze skin...

It's become so hard to ignore this man who's practically become a god under your hungry eyes, as hard as it is to ignore the coming arousal that you feel between your legs as you watch him walk around in his armor or the mere sight of the veins and muscles in his neck give you unholy thoughts...

You turn around and help yourself to your sheets, crossing your legs to try and forget what you'd like him to do to you in that room and bed right now, thinking about how you probably wouldn't have the energy for it, and you fall asleep quicker than you thought you would, already with your mind bent on what you might find on that mountain tomorrow...

Pero watches your body rise and fall slightly with every breath you take and exhale, as he has been doing every night for the past few years... Since he was old enough to understand that you were no longer just a friend to him, that he was no longer indifferent to your curves, that he would watch you come out of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye and bend over the bed to admire your buttocks that he always imagined grabbing tightly in his hands... But he never did and was content to watch you fall asleep with your back to him, now that he can no longer see you come out with a simple sheet around you, your hair wet and your skin steaming from the good bath he would have liked to share with you... He is only content to fall asleep following your breaths, wanting deep down, much more of his Paloma...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

You have galloped and walked all day to get to this cursed place, making you arrive around mid-day, when the sun begins its descent towards the west.

The forest is not dancing as usual, and the birds, being the reason why this mountain is called the singing mountain by their chirping, have seemingly disappeared singing no more from this cursed place under a river now red with blood. A putrid, foul smell that you can't miss is present on the scene. No bodies. Lots of blood.

"I've never seen this..."

You don't respond to his remark, but you know exactly what he is talking about. A river turned red with blood, accompanied by the smell of death, yet showing no sign of a body near the water or even in the forest you've just passed through.

Vampires kill, and abandon the corpse, having no interest in keeping the body, or if they really want a use for it, they transform the person, but in this case if, the smell of decomposing corpse and the river of blood should not be present at the scene.

"I don't like this Pero...".

He doesn't answer and just grunts before pulling out his sword and pushing you back slightly. You do the same and pull out your sword, never having doubted his ability to sense the presence of another being, other than the two of you. "It's not dark enough for it to be one," you say, watching carefully around you. "The king would never send his men out in the middle of the night," he says, passing you some silver powder. "How..."

You don't finish your sentence and freeze. Your hands tighten on the hilt of your sword, and you look into the shadows of the forest at the glowing yellow eye sockets. A man you can't make out is watching you without moving. Pero notices this too and pushes you behind him, instinctively as he does every time, even though he knows you can defend yourself, he never misses an opportunity to throw himself between you and the danger... And you will do the same for him when the opportunity arises.

"Come here!" he shouted with a smile, taunting this bloodsucking bastard, who for his part did not move a muscle. He's watching both you, and you're getting more and more worried, not understanding why he's not attacking you, as they all do. This is not a usual behaviour from them... What is going on here...

Your question evaporates as he evaporates, not approaching you, or attacking you. You tug lightly on Pero's arm, asking him to return to the horse. He didn't insist and followed you, sword in hand, running and climbing on the horses as fast as he could.

"What was that?!" you shouted at him at a gallop not far from him, who stopped dead in his tracks a few paces away from you "Pero what..." "I don't know!" he says, a growing frustration in his eyes that you know only too well, a look he gets when he is about to do something impulsive. "Pero you're not going back!" "He didn't attack us..." "That doesn't mean he won't next time! What's wrong with you?!" You say completely dumbfounded by your best friend, willing to risk his life to prove a point.

FUCK PERO!

You follow him in spite of yourself, knowing that you couldn't forgive yourself for leaving him to die alone in those woods, whether it was his choice or not.

A million thoughts go through your head as Pero is hit by something. You jump off your horse and swing your sword at a man in your path, a man who did not flinch at the shock of a galloping horse. You throw a sword at him which he quickly avoids and disappears again, but you know this kind of technique well, you have fought them all your life. You grab a dagger in your other hand and stand back-to-back with pero who has just straightened up.

"I told you we should have left," you say, more than a little frustrated by events that could have been avoided. "This is not the time." He says as he begins to fight the creature in front of you, moving far too quickly for you to anticipate any movement.

He's faster. Smarter than anything you've encountered before, and despite Pero's ability to inflict some cuts with his pure silver sword, the vampire doesn't give in. But it doesn't kill us for all that... A sentence that goes through your head thinking that it could kill you both in a few seconds if it really wanted to... No, this thing is looking for something...

You don't take any more chances and grab your powder and throw it at the thing, which is screaming in pain, looking at you with reddened eyes, sharp fangs and black veins around its eyes like you've never seen before... "PERO THE HORSES!". He thinks for half a second about killing this thing here and now, but sees the powder starting to dissipate and prefers not to risk both of you getting killed here and now... Not to risk YOUR death here and now which would ultimately be his fault...

You gallop off without looking back, not understanding what you just saw.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"PERO WHAT DID YOU DO THERE?!" you say as you slam the door of the house and drop your weapons on the floor "You could have gotten us both killed! You saw what that thing did!" "It didn't kill us... Why?" he says as he sits down on one of the chairs calmly, too calm for what just happened "Is that really the only thing that bothers you about what just happened Pero?!" you say as you bang on the table.

He straightens up curtly and approaches you with a dark look in his eyes, "Aren't you even asking yourself that question? Don't you want to know why he left us alive? Why didn't he kill us or just jump down our throats and kill us like they all do? ¡Miénteme! LIE TO ME?! TRY LYING TO ME!" He says, banging on the table in turn.

You don't respond, knowing he's right, but you can't help it, impulsive behaviour like that could have killed you both. "I shouldn't have gone back there I know that Paloma... But I don't understand..." he says more calmly trying to apologize in his own way. You take him in your arms, understanding that he acted in incomprehension and panic "I also wonder Pero but don't ever do that again... He was smarter... Faster... And seems to control himself in front of living people... We never had to deal with that" you say holding him tighter, also needing a little comfort, adrenaline gradually coming down.

"She's right!"

You flinch and Pero pulls his sword straight out pushing you behind him, hearing a voice coming from your kitchen. Your eyes widen as you realise that the vampire you fought a few hours ago is the man in the room...

"Your powder has no effect on me, cuties... Should you have tried the wooden stakes?" he says, leaning slowly against one of the walls in front of you. "The wooden stakes are too big, a risk. You have to get too close and we're not stupid enough for that," Pero says dryly.

Those features... A protruding jaw, puppy dog eyes that dominate a fierce rage and that aquiline nose... You turn to Pero and move from him to this man, noticing that your friend, has similar features with this creature in front of you even if his hair is longer than pero, but he doesn't seem to really care or even notice it, it's actually the least of his concerns "Why are we still alive? "He says, putting his weapon on the table behind him, understanding that this creature does not intend to kill you, that if it really wanted to, it would not have bothered to let you go and then follow you and interrupt you... Or would have simply killed you in this forest.

He took a step closer but changed his mind when he saw that Pero was keeping a hand on one of his weapons. "Because I'm not the one you're looking for" says the vampire. Pero looked at you wide-eyed and started to laugh, a dark laugh, far from being amused by the situation. "Do you hear that? Now they're coming to our house to haggle," he said, jostling you slightly, still not making you smile.

You know that side of Pero. That unstable side that loses control of itself and doesn't know how to deal with the information and emotions it receives, which are far too numerous to process quickly enough for events that are far too unfamiliar to its eyes. And you don't blame him because you yourself don't know how to deal with it all. "I'm not happy about talking to you..." you say, trying not to play on each other's nerves. "...But you haven't killed us yet, so I'll give you a minute to explain what you want from us."

He stares at you for a few seconds, examining you from head to toe, not missing the look of disgust and hatred on your face. "You're looking for my creator... And I need you to kill him" he said, staring into your eyes, a teasing smile on his face, very sure of himself, yet very serious about the words he just said "Vampires are normally very attached to their creator, I think you're setting us up" you said, crossing your arms "She can't understand that if I wanted you dead you'd have been dead long ago!

He disappeared for a few seconds and found himself next to you, making you jump up and grab tovar's sword behind you to point it at him. He stared at the blade and ran his finger over it, causing smoke to billow from his skin, like at the end of a fire. "I'm not one of the little vampires you usually fight, which makes me... superior to what you're used to..." Tovar rolled his eyes and stepped in front of you, again, instinctively offering his body as a barrier to protect you, letting the man finish, always having a thought of skewering him at any moment "... I'm not dependent on him... At least not completely. But I don't serve him like all those vermin you hunt every day, who don't know how to control themselves or even think for themselves."

He loosens his last words with a more than visible disgust, arranging his clothes and slowly walking around the table without taking his eyes off you. "I don't depend on him. I'm not attached to him in any way... At least not emotionally... Physically it's something else: I can't kill him, not with my own hands." he says, staring deeply into the wood of the table, as if he could see his own reflection there.

"And you need us for that?!" Pero laughed a dark laugh like you've never heard, now less and less amused by the situation, knowing that he could launch himself at the thing in front of you at any moment. You grab him by the arm before he does something stupid and pull him away from the vampire "We should do it Pero." He widened his eyes and reached up to your face, grabbing your cheeks, as if to check that you hadn't been bewitched. You clapped his hands and told him you were fine before continuing, "If he leads us to his master..." "HE'S NOT MY MASTER!" he shouts from across the room letting you know that he can hear anything you say.

You look at Pero and let him know you'll explain the rest later by miming dust between your fingers, as you've done since you were little, before continuing "When he leads us to his MASTER, we can at least find out where he is and kill him! That's what we've wanted for weeks, Pero."

He's not thrilled. He realizes the danger you're going to face and knows that you've already faced a lot of such danger in your life... But he's not excited. He doesn't know if he can trust the information this thing has just given him, and if he should trust it at all. He doesn't want to have to trust it, and he can see in your eyes that you don't want to either... But he also understands that you have no choice after the king's request. So he lets his gaze shift from yours to the vampire's. "Okay. We leave tomorrow morning," he says, stepping around you and approaching the vampire, a more stern look on his face than he usually wears "... But if you were foolish enough to betray us, know this..." "... That you'll kill me?" he cuts Tovar off with a laugh and moves closer to him "And I'll let you do beautiful."

You chuckle and cross your arms and squint your eyes, amused "We already don't trust you..." "I know that sweetheart" "...BUT that's no reason to lie to us" you say, raising your voice, slightly annoyed by his condescending air.

He tries to get around Tovar, who won't let him pass, and shakes his head to let him know he's definitely not going to approach you. "Believe me..." he said as he put his gaze into yours, a serious, not amused gaze "... If I tell you I'd let you do it it's simply that I'd rather it be you than him."

He nodded to you, then to Tovar, and walked towards the front door.

"Oh, and I'd rather be Max Phillips than 'that thing'," he said as he closed the door behind him, leaving you and Tovar in a state of anxiety and nervousness the likes of which you hadn't had in a long time, leaving you both that night alive to the slightest background noise, the slightest shadow passing through the thin draperies of your windows...

•

Chapter 2

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marvel-and-mischief · 3 years

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Purple Carnations

Part of my Floriography Series

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader Words: 1700 Warnings: eating meat, preparing dead rabbits for eating, nudity but not sexual, a swear word Synopsis: You come across an angry stranger bathing in the river

Purple Carnations: capriciousness

💐

The setting sun could be seen through the thin gaps between the trees, casting shadows throughout the woods you were standing in. Birds were settling into their nests with their chicks and dogs were howling in the distance as you trod silently over roots and tried to stay clear of crisp leaves and twigs that would alert anyone, or anything, to your presence.

You fingered the bow in your hand, clenching and unclenching your hand around the wood and feeling the weight in preparation of its use. The few arrows in the quiver on your back slid against each other when you moved too quickly, it reminded you that you needed to make more after tonight.

The only other sound you could hear was that of the river running along the edge of the woods. The water was calm and you ventured closer in the hope that an animal was taking a drink. It would be an easy catch, you’d be able to get back home before the sky turned dark and the wolves began to roam the area. Luck was rarely on your side but what you saw was more than unlucky, it was downright cruel.

A man was bathing in the shallow end of the river, back facing you and his bottom half, fortunately, concealed underneath the water. You were unable to take your eyes off the silver scars that lined his skin and tense muscles that flexed under his movements. And his hands, they were scarily large as they carded through black, wet hair, and it brought you out of your embarrassing state when you thought of this man noticing you spying on him and using those hands in punishment.

You felt yourself flush and in your haste to quickly disappear unnoticed your foot caught on a wayward tree branch, causing you to squeak in surprise and reach out to steady yourself against a large rock.

“Hey you!” came an angry shout from the river and you knew you had been caught. You spun back around to see the man facing you, his teeth clenched and face twisted into a furious scowl. “You think you can spy on me you -“

“Spy on you?” you scoffed in retaliation, suddenly feeling brave in the face of a man that could definitely beat you in a physical fight. You pulled an arrow out of your quiver and notched it into your bow but kept the weapon lowered, a precaution incase he came towards you. You had the high ground and a weapon that could reach him from afar and that gave you the confidence to answer back. “You must think very highly of yourself, Sir, if you think I was spying on you.”

“Then what were you doing?” He eyed his clothes that sat in a bundle a few feet from where you stood. You caught a shine of silver in amongst the fabrics and you knew immediately that he wasn’t worried about his dignity, he was keeping an eye on the weapons concealed at the bottom of the pile.

“I am looking for my supper,” you wiggled the bow in your hand and gave him a look that said ‘isn’t it obvious?’, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“Says who? You?” he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest as if he only just realised he was naked in front of you.

“Yes, says me,” you huffed in frustration.

The man grumbled something under his breath but didn’t move.

“I saw some deer on my route here, a mile that way,” the man pointed in the opposite direction to which you came, “I will be gone by the time you get back.”

Part of you felt bad for making such a fuss about this stranger being here, you didn’t own these woods after all, but the other part of you knew that you couldn’t trust strangers travelling through the path you frequently used and was so close to your home.

You paused a little too long and the mans patience was wearing thin.

“Or you can stay here and continue to watch me bathe,” he growled, and you heard the underlying threat in his words: when I am finished here, I will fight you.

“If I see you again I will not hesitate to let my arrow fly towards you.”

“My knife will be in your back before you get the chance.”

You rolled your eyes at his quip, not willing to argue that an arrow can fly quicker than a knife or that you knew you were closer to his weapons than he was, and left to find your supper.

You hear his frustrated grunts before you see him. You crept closer to see the man you had stumbled upon in the river just the day before, struggling to light a fire. The sparks he was trying to create weren’t enough to light the kindling he’d bundled together in front of him, and the more he became annoyed the more he was hitting his thumb rather than the flint in his hand.

You noticed the dead rabbits at his feet and subconsciously licked your lips. Maybe you could both help each other out this night.

“Do you need a fire?” Your question had him pulling his sword from his belt and pointing it in your direction which was, fortunately, far enough away that he couldn’t hurt you with it.

“I am beginning to think you are not just a pain in my ass but also a bad omen,” the man lowered his sword slowly once he recognised who you were.

“I think this is rather good luck actually,” you countered with a small smirk. You crossed your arms and leaned against a tree just as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead.

“What do you want?”

“You have food, I have fire, we should work together to not go hungry another night.”

“No luck with the deer?”

You shook your head sadly. This man hadn’t been lying, when you reached the area he had told you about there was plenty of evidence of the animals having been there, but there had also been proof of people, other hunters that had gotten there first.

The man seemed to be thinking seriously on your offer, looking forlornly at the piece of flint and metal in his hand. Another crash of thunder had him making up his mind.

“We have a deal,” the man picked up his belongings, along with the rabbits, and motioned for you to lead the way.

“It is only fair you share what you caught in my part of the woods,” you failed to hide the humor in your tone but it had the desired effect. The man huffed next to you.

“I do not see anywhere that states these are your woods,” he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. The rabbits in his hand swung into your leg annoyingly, and you were sure he was doing it on purpose.

“What is your name?” you asked just as your cottage was coming into sight over the hill.

“Pero.”

You told him your name and walked the rest of the way in silence.

Your cottage was small, only one room with a bed in the corner and a fire that took up most of one wall. Baskets scattered the floor holding everything you had foraged from the woods, mushrooms and berries, plants for medicines, vegetables from your garden.

You headed straight to the fireplace to get it started but kept one eye on your new acquaintance as you got to work.

Pero was studying your little cottage from where he awkwardly stood by your door. With your foot you pushed a stool in front of the fire.

“Sit, get comfortable, ready the rabbits for the fire.”

You thought by giving his something useful to do he would feel more comfortable, and it worked for a while. He skinned the animals and placed them on the metal spit you passed to him and then hooked them over the fire.

“Why does your husband not hunt for you?”

The question took you by surprise. It was obvious you were the only person who lived in this cottage, the bed only big enough for one, hunting for your own food, and bringing him back to your cottage was more than enough confirmation that you were not married.

“Because he does not exist,” you replied bluntly.

Pero reached out to turn the rabbits around but said no more.

“Why does your wife not keep you in check?”

Pero’s dark eyes glared at you.

“She does not exist.”

You pretended to nod thoughtfully, only to receive a huff of laughter from your usually moody friend.

“You are not from this land.”

A thoughtful look crossed Pero’s features as he turned his attention back to the fire.

“I have not belonged to any land for a long time.”

There was a sadness to his tone that you couldn’t help but pity. You hid it well, you didn’t think he would appreciate pity from a stranger.

“Why are you here?”

“Looking for work. You ask a lot of questions.”

“You are the first person I have spoken to in months.”

You found yourself opening up to Pero over supper. He listened in genuine interest as you showed him the many plants you had found in the woods, telling him what each of them did for different ailments. He told you about someone he once knew who could wield a bow better than anyone. You argued with him then, promising to demonstrate what a great shot you were the next time you went hunting. However it went unspoken whether Pero would be sticking around to see that.

You were nervous to go to sleep that evening. Pero was your only friend in a long while and you had a feeling he would be gone by morning. Pero mistook your nerves for his presence in your home, so he crossed the room in a couple of strides and handed you his dagger.

“So you feel safe with me here,” he explained and moved to make himself comfortable in front of the door, covered in a blanket you had given to him.

Pero watched you lit up in the dying flames of the fire, a content smile on his lips as your breathing evened out and you fell asleep. He was undecided whether or not to leave before sunrise, but for now he would fall into the best nights sleep of his life.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @phoenixhalliwell @computeringturtle @anu-simps @bts17army

#Floriography Series #Pero #Pero Tovar #Tovar #Pero x Reader #Tovar x Reader #Pero Tovar x Reader #The Great Wall #Pedro Pascal

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

😡🤬ANGER MANAGEMENT (PART 1)🤬😡

Prompt: Y/N has the life she’s always dreamed of: a good house, a nice car, a fat paycheck, her dream job and some loving friends. Her life feels like a fairytale...but just like every fairytale she’s not safe from the villain, the problem with that? He’s not only an incredibly hot Scotsman but also a fucking pain in the ass!

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut, clit stimulation, angst, dirty talking, cursing, name calling,(possible part 2?Idk)

Notes: I think it’s time for me to face my biggest fear: Drew McIntyre! 😂 all jokes aside, I’ve lost count of how many one shots I have written and soon after deleted about this handsome hunk. There are so many good stories of him out there that I’ve always felt like mine were actually horse shit compared to those so I’ve never had the courage to make this Scottish wet dream an official brand of my writing, but I’m looking forward to achieve new accomplishments on my writing in 2021, so here goes nothing folks! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Oh Thank God! Just the woman I wanted to see”

I turned around to meet Becky Lynch, one of the few dear close friends I’ve made while working for the WWE as a massage therapist.

“Hey Becks! What’s up?”

“Y/N I need your help, I was doing some training with the guys when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and now I feel like I wanna cry”

“Oh Becky, c’mon let’s go to my office”

Once we got there I mentioned for her to sit on the massage table.

“So tell me exactly what you were doing”

“I was doing some regular weightlifting, then all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain stretch from my elbow to my shoulder”

“Ok, did you warmed up before hand?”

“Yes”

“Did you added the weights in progressively or were you in some sort of competition against Sheamus, Cesaro and McIntyre as to whom could perform a proper weightlifting faster?” I crooked my eyebrow

“Y/N! You know I would never do that” She tried to hide her shame for being caught

“Becky, I know you! I know how competitive you are and how competitive you GET when you train with Sheamus, Cesaro and the Scottish prick.”

“They started ok?! They said I was no match for them, so I had to make them swallow word by word” She said slightly angry

“Calm down” I chuckled “And I presume you won?”

“Of course I won! As if they stood a chance” She scoffed

I touched her shoulder and palmed the back of her upper arm til I reached her elbow

“And your prize for that my darling is” I looked into her eyes “Six muscular knots, probably some small damage to your elbow nerves resulting in a little trip to the physical therapists and shit ton of pain, congratulations! Are you happy now?”

“Oh no!” She whined “Y/N, please don’t send me to the physical therapists, they will eat my ass off and they’re gonna tell Hunter about this. Please Y/N, please tell me you can fix it?” She stared at me with begging eyes

“Becks” I sighed “I can undo the muscular knots but I ain’t no fairy godmother! If you have some sort of nerve damage that’s up to the physical therapists...there’s nothing I can do about that honey”

“Please Y/N give me some of the red magical relief juice you gave to Kofi” She pleads

“Red magical relief juice?” I asked confused

“Yes, Kofi said he had this horrible pain from an injury and you gave him this red magical relief juice that helped him better than any medicine! Please give that to me too!”

I laughed before answering

“Oh Kofi, Kofi... it’s not an juice, it’s a liquid... a toner. A home made medicine I learned with my grandma. Technically I’m not even allowed to use that, but I know it works, better than these crap versions of Vick’s Vapor Rub” I tossed a little small green package in the trash can.

“Can you give that to me?” She asked with her eyes full of hope

“Fine” I said and she smiles widely

“But, you have to promise me that you will stop with these stupid and senseless competitions! They could permanently damage your nerves you know?!”

“Ok I promise”

I took a small plastic bottle from the cabinet and filled up with some small amount of the toner and placed the bottle inside a small paper bag. I also gave her a little bit of my grandma’s famous ointment in a tiny tin can.

“Alright, so here’s what you’re gonna do: once you get to your hotel room, you’ll take a hot shower and before you put your clothes on, you’re gonna rub the toner from your neck to your elbow all over your shoulder and back upper arm” She nods and I proceed “Then right after you’re going to take a small amount of this ointment” I show her the little tin can “And rub it all over your shoulder, back upper arm and elbow. Right afterwards you get dress with a long sleeve shirt and go to bed. Remember that you cannot leave your skin exposed to the cold air of air conditioning, because if you do it will make your pain and damage way worse! Do you hear me?”

“Yes Ma’am”

“If in three to four days you still feel any sort of pain you’re gonna have to go to the physical therapists”

“Ok”

“Becky I’m serious”

“Okay Y/N I got it” She smiles softly

“Good, now please, don’t tell anyone about this” I shook the little bag “And tell Kofi to keep his mouth shut. I know he means well but I could get fired for this”

“My lips are sealed” She pressed her lips in a thin line

“Thank you” I chuckled “Now, go on and take 20 drops of this” I give her some Ibuprofen “And come back in 20 minutes”

“Why?” She asks confused

“Because we still have to undo those knots and it’s not gonna be the fun kind of pain my dear”

“Argh” She groans

One week later

I was finishing tidying up the massage table from the session I just had with Bayley when someone knocked on my office door

“Come on in”

“Hey Y/N” Seth Rollins said in a voice full of pain as he tried to walk towards me

“Seth are you ok? Jesus, you look like somebody just kicked your balls so hard that they went up to your throat! What happened?” I tried to hold back my laugh

“A long story involving Cesaro and Drew. Moral of the story is my back is fucked up, do you think you can help me?”

“Can you lay down here?” I patted the table

“I guess so” He made his way to it excruciatingly slow as I helped him to lay down

“Where’s the pain worst?”

“My lower back” I touched and he gasped in pain

“Do you think you could give me some of that red magical relief juice?” He whispered so only I could hear it.

Of course I wasn’t surprised about him knowing of the “magical relief juice” since he and Becky were together I figured she told him.

“Did Becky told you?”

“Only today, once she saw I was in a tremendous pain...When she was using it I pressed her to tell me who gave it to her but she didn’t wanted to say, she said it was her fairy godmother”

I couldn’t help but smile at Becky’s inside joke and loyalty. I truly love that girl.

“Sure thing Rollins, just please don’t-“

“I won’t tell anyone Y/N don’t worry! Your witchy recipe is safe with me” He chuckled “Ouch fuck, that hurts” He groaned

“Did you bring any jacket on with you?” I laugh

“Yeah Becky told me to”

“Ok, let’s get start it”

Forty minutes and a relaxed thankful Seth Rollins later. I was finishing washing my hands while Seth pulled the zipper of his jacked up. I could feel his eyes on me

“What is it Rollins?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If the question is if I am a 450 year old witch then my answer is, you will never know” I whisper as I turn to face him with a smirk

He laughs before saying “Well I’m sure you are sweetheart” He winks playfully “But that’s not the question though unfortunately”

“What is it then?”

He looked at me with a sense of caution before asking

“Why do you hate Drew so much?”

“McIntyre? The Scottish prick? The shitty bearded version of Gastón from Beauty and The Beast?” I ask in disbelief

My hatred for Drew McIntyre goes way back to 5 years ago. To make a long story short he has being a pain in my ass every since I started working here. It all resumes to the bad flirting and endless fights. We’ve always fought at least 3 times a week for as long as I can remember. It’s like a weekly ritual for us, and our fights are always petty and ridiculous such as who will get in the elevator first or who will rent the last SUV car.

“Yeah...” He answers slightly embarrassed

“Well that’s simple, he’s an asshole! A smug fucker who thinks he’s the most beautiful man to ever walk the earth and that every woman alive must fall for him in all fours”

“Is there anything else beyond that?” He asks

“No! Of course not!” I lied. As if I could tell him about my deep sexual desire for the Scotsman

“Are you sure? I mean, you must agree with me that he is very beautiful” Seth answers

“I’m not saying he’s not. I have eyes, so trust me, I know he’s hot as fuck and a very handsome man but that doesn’t mean that every woman on this company wants him!” I scoffed

“Does the ‘every woman’ equals Y/N?”

“Why are you asking me this?” I asked aggressively

“Look, there’s no need for you to get all defensive ok? I’m your friend and I’m just asking this as a friend. I’m not coming for you by any means” He says with a soothing voice

“Sorry, it was just my automatic response”

“It’s okay sweetie”

“But Seth...why this question now?”

“Let’s just say that I may or may not have heard some backstage talk and I would like to know this from your own mouth instead of other people’s”

“Backstage talk? About what?” I ask angrily

His eyes widened “You know what? Let’s forget I ever men-“

“No no no Rollins you’ve started this now you will finish it!” Now I was really angry

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut” He murmured

“But you didn’t! So spit it out”

“Ok...I’ve heard one of the girls say that the reason why you hate Drew so much is because you kinda have a hidden want for him to fuck you but since he’s ‘not interested’ you get pissed off” He whispered

“I WHAT??? WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?”

“Y/N please keep your voice down! Somebody is gonna hear you”

“I COULD GIVE TWO FUCKS IF SOMEBODY CAN HEAR ME! Who’ve said that Seth?” I was boiling with rage

“Sweetie, I’m not gonna tell you who’ve said it because I know you will-“

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whispered

“If you don’t tell me who’ve said that right now Rollins I swear to God on God in heaven that I will cut your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

He gulped

“Now who’ve said that?”

“Carmella” He whispered and I smiled letting go of his collar “Y/N please don’t do anything stupid!” He said as I removed my coat

“Don’t forget to rub the toner on your back once you’re out of the shower” I patted his shoulder and made my way to the door

“Y/N where are you going? Y/N please whatever you’re thinking about doing it, just don’t ok? She’s not worth it! Y/N PLEASE!”

But his screams were now faint as I make my way down the hallway to find the blond gossiper girl.

I finally find Carmella “talking”, to Sheamus in one of the hallways.

“Oi Y/N, how’s life treating ya lass?” Sheamus smiles widely at me, making his usual greeting. At any other day it would’ve made my afternoon happier to find that amazing Irish man, but not today! I was so furious that I ignored him and went directly to Carmella

“Would you mind telling me why the fuck are you not only minding my business but also spreading rumors about me and McIntyre?”

From where I stood I saw Sheamus visibly gulp

“Hey Y/N, what do ya say about we go to tha catering grab some coffee huh?” He said urgently pleading

“So? I’m waiting for an answer” I said to her fully ignoring what he just said

“Well Y/N, from woman to woman, I think we both can agree that it’s no rumor. It’s quite visible, to not say pathetic, the way you can’t deal with rejection my dear” She batted her lashes

“And what exactly are you implying?”

“The obvious Y/N! That you want Drew in between your legs but he doesn’t! I mean, let’s face it, he’s too much of a man for you anyways! It’s not like you can handle him, because we know you can’t” She measured me from head to toe making me feel very conscious about the difference between her slim toned body and my thick one full of curves.

I know that most of the men’s in this company usually date or even have one night stands with women who were body equivalent to their own - slender and beautifully toned - , but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t saw my own curvy beauty. Hell, I even got some dinner invitations from some of the guys! Cesaro, Baron Corbin, Finn Bálor and even Seth Rollins (before he got with Becky) were some of them.

“I bet that I received more dinner invitations in a week than you in a year” I scoffed

“But not from the man you want the most right darling?” She evilly grins and I see red! Pure rage in it’s rawest form took ahold of me and I jumped towards her neck but a pair of strong arms stopped me from attacking her.

“Wow, easy now lass” He said

HIM! The cause of all this gossiping with my name, I couldn’t get even more angry even if I tried.

“Let me go McIntyre!” I roar

“Uh, enjoy it while it lasts Y/N, it’s as far as you’ll ever get anyways” Carmella chuckles

I tried to wiggle out of his arms “What the fuck did you just said bitch? I’ll feed you your own teeth you fuck-“

I couldn’t finish my sentence thanks to Drew, who lifted me off from the floor and tossed me on his shoulder, taking me to back my office.

“What are you doing? Let me go! I’m gonna punch her stupid rat’s face!”

“No you won’t”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m preventing your ass from getting fired!” He answers

I tried to release myself from him, but who was I fooling? The man is a brick wall, I couldn’t let myself go not even if I tried hard!

Once we got into my office he locked the door, placing himself in front of it and released me.

“Don’t you never, EVER, dare to manhandle me like that again! Do you hear me?” I stare at him with my eyes full of rage

“You know Y/N, all that anger is not good for you...you could have a heart attack” He chuckled

I was so mad, that tears of anger rolled down my cheeks as I cut the small distance between us and begin to punch his torso, arms or whatever I could reach

“I HATE YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON WHY I AM NOW A FUCKING BACKSTAGE GOSSIP SUBJECT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU’RE SO FULL OF YOURSELF AREN’T YOU HUH? SHITTY ASS GASTÓN!”

I was starting to loose my strength due to my ferocious attack, and I would be damned if I let him see that...

When suddenly everything changed, the air in the room thickened and I saw myself now pressed against the door with my hands forcefully pinned on top of my head.

“Aww, that was sweet princess” He smirks confidently

“What are you doing Drew? Let me go” I murmured

“Oh it’s Drew now huh? Why the sudden change love? What happened with ‘Scottish prick, asshole and Gastón’?” He cackled “What’s wrong princess? Not feeling so confident and in charge anymore are we?” He pouts

“You’re hurting me” I lied

“Nu uh, we both know that, that’s a lie. I know you Y/N, every inch of you so don’t you lie to me now! That’s not what pretty little girls like you do” He reprimanded me

I felt confused and slightly turned on by his whole dominant character. But still I felt the urge to fight back.

“And what do you know about me McIntyre? NOTHING! So don’t YOU dare to pretend that you do! You know nothing about who I am or my needs, so quit the act”

He laughed before saying “And that’s where you’re wrong princess” He towered over me, securing my wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed my cheeks making my lips pout(like one would with a child) and tilted my head up to meet his blue gaze.

“You see Y/N, we’ve known each other for what? 5 years? I’ve done a lot of observing in those years... I became quite good at reading you” He leaned forward..his beard,lips and mustache brushing against my own lips

“So I know for a fact that what triggered you into fighting Carmella wasn’t what she said...But the fact that what she said is true” He searched my eyes for confirmation and when he found it he smirks in appreciation

A murmured ‘Fuck you’ came out of my lips the best way I could since he had this vicious grip on my cheeks.

“Oh Y/N, Y/N... what am I going to do with you princess?” He asks amused as he release my cheeks “I must say though... I agree with almost everything Carmella said” He vaguely added

Pure humiliation filled me, the thought of him knowing that deep down I had a thing for him which wasn’t reciprocal at all made my stomach turn. I felt the tears of humiliation start to rise to my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see that he had broken me. Instead I reached for the safety of the one thing I knew I could do: fight!

“You let me go right now you fucker or I swear you will regret it!” I said as threatening as I could

“Oh my, won’t you look at that? Kitty has claws huh?” He chuckled lightly

I took advantage of his distraction and yanked my arms as fast as I could out of his grip. The action caught him by surprise, giving me the upper hand to turn around to unlock the door so I could leave. But his surprise didn’t last long as for he saw what I was about to do and pressed me against the door once more, instead now my back was the one facing him so he pressed his semi hard bulge up against my ass with my hands and face now pressed on the wooden door.

“Where do you think you are going princess? We’re not done talking just yet” He whispers in my ear, making my whole body shiver.

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me” His lips were glued to my ear “I almost, I said almost, agree with everything that she said..except for one thing”

“If you’re gonna say that-“

“Maybe I’ll have to buy you a ball gag, since you don’t seem to ever know when to shut up...or maybe I should choke you instead,what do you say?”

I gulped loudly

“Or even better, I should fuck your mouth..bury my cock so deep on your throat that you will have no other option but drool all over yourself” He pressed his bulge harder against my ass “, that will make you shut up! I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look with my cock shoved down your throat” He moaned “Would you like that princess? Would you like for me to show you where’s your place? Where you really belong?” He grinds his erection on my ass and the feeling makes me moan softly

“Drew...” I pleaded

“The only thing I don’t agree with Carmella” He continues his previous statement ignoring my plea “Is that I’m too much of a man for you. To be honest I think you’re the only woman in this company who can actually handle me! The only one who will love and beg to be fucked faster and rougher..” His hands let go of my wrists and roam down to cup my breasts roughly, pulling me even closer to his body

“The only one who is the perfect fit for me...who will let me use every single hole as I please” He bites my ear making me gasp for more air.

“Won’t you Y/N? Do you want me to use you like the good little whore that you are?”

My head was buzzing with excitement, I could feel the now very wet pool of desire in between my legs. To think that all of my darkest fantasies with this man were about to come true made me moan a faint ‘Yes’ to him

He grunts at my positive response while one of his big hands unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans so his hand could sink down the fabric to find my very wet core.

“Hmmm I’ve been waiting 5 years for this lass...Fuck, you already feel amazing on my hand I can’t wait to feel this pretty little pussy around my cock” He growls

“Fuck Drew, please” I whisper

“It’s Sir to you, my good little pet” He smirked “Now tell me, do you think I should fuck you right here, right now so that everyone in this company can hear me make you my fuck toy or should we head back to the hotel? What do you say pet?” He asks as his fingers firmly circles my clit making my legs shake

“W- Whatever pleases you Sir” I stuttered

“I see you’re a quick learner huh?” He chuckles amused “I say, let’s show this roster who is the only woman who can properly handle me” He says as he removed his fingers from my core and licked them clean while staring at me. I softly moan to that scene and he smiles deviously before whispering

“Strip now pet and show what a beautiful fuck toy you are for Sir”

To be continued...

Please let me know if you would like to see a part 2 🥺?

#drew mcintyre #drew galloway #drew mcintyre one shot #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre x oc #drew mcintyre fanfic #drew mcintyre smut #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction #masochist writes

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static-fanatic-1 · 3 years

Text

Chrollo + Phantom Troupe Teaser

Word Count: 5.2k

(Teaser my ass, holy shit this is going to be a long one)

Name: (y/n) Kurta

Nen Type: Conjurer

Nen Ability: Terracotta gauntlets with a lion head on top of the hand. The lion head can detach from the clawed gauntlets and act as physics-defying grappling hooks.

Example of Ability: You can use the grappling hooks to grab and throw whatever is caught, this can include people or other large objects. It will feel fairly weightless.

| Part 2 |

~~~

You remember the day perfectly, it was humid and moist, yet just cool enough to stop you from sweating. You had on your usual Kurta garb, purple and yellow with symbols and designs in honor of your heritage. You stayed home that day, being two months pregnant with your future child made your father worry too much.

You were barely showing at this point, but he still kept you home despite your line of work. You were a protector of sorts, a guard to your clan, keeping everyone protected as well as leaving to explore the world and bring back new things. You enjoyed your job, but your sweet old man didn't want you to over exert yourself.

"When you leave again you'll have to bring your secret lover." Your father would constantly start. "I bet he's a gentleman considering what your mother taught you." A fatherly smile gleaming over his wrinkling features. "If he runs off I'll hunt him down and strap him to our dinner table." He would joke.

You would lightly scold your father, knowing he would surely follow his words. "Stop. Keep acting like that and you'll chase him away."

You sighed at the fond memories, glancing out the window of the kitchen to watch the bright sun set below the horizon line. Deep purples and rich oranges decorated the clouds in a comforting glow. Another color, rich and warm, too warm, littered the skies. Coal black smoke rose above the tree tops and covered the beautiful sky in a suffocating cloak.

A lump got caught in your throat at the sight, you knew the colors and smoke anywhere, the burning trash of Meteor City making it a familiar sight. The smell too, burning your nostrils and making you cringe further confirmed what was happening.

Fire. Burning, raging fire was engulfing the village and eating it whole. Screams and cries for help filled the air as buildings crumpled into the ground. That was your call to action, you jumped out of your window and summoned up your nen, claws outstretched and prepared to slice any unknown mother fucker you could find.

You found one, a dark silhouette in the night with a slim build and intense pink aura coming from their hands. It felt familiar, the aura, but you didn't pay it any mind before shooting out the lion head on your gauntlets.

With chattering teeth they by harshly into the figure's forearms, dragging them across the floor and above your head into a burning building behind you. You cried and quickly jumped on the figure, slicing at their chest. Large, long gashes oozed out buckets of blood, and you quickly silenced the figure's cries with a even deeper gash to the throat... their head now hanging by a thin thread of flesh.

The blood that coated your nen gauntlets were nothing compared to the crimson that flooded your eyes. You would slaughter anyone that was not a clan member, you swore on that. Looking around your red tinted gaze fell upon the horrors caused by the raiders.

Bodies, bloodied and broken beyond recognition littered the ground. You wobbled over to one of them, barely making out who it was, an elderly woman you could almost call a grandmother. Her wrinkled features were slack and littered with blood, but the empty, oozing sockets where her eyes should be haunted your nightmares. You wailed louder than the dying screams, fat tears streaming down your cheeks and landing in the empty holes.

"Papa!" You shrieked, stumbling up off the ground and rushing further into the carnage. Your legs barely kept up as you rushed past the fire ridden village. "PAPA!" You screeched into the crackling night.

You paused, breath caught in your throat making you choke on the smoke. There was a silhouette shrouded by ash and darkness and flames, a distinguishable fur coat lining its figure. You gagged at the smoke, hiding behind a broken building to listen to the mumbling figure.

"Has anyone found her?" A smooth, honey like voice echoed past the dying screams.

Chrollo? Wha-? What's going on?! You stumbled on a piece of debris, tripling and falling onto a warm, bloodied corpse. You gave out a strained whimper, almost a shriek, as you tried to collect yourself and run away.

You could hear him behind you, you could almost feel him behind you. His nen spilled from his pores and surrounded you in a suffocating hold. You quietly gagged, hand over your mouth as you held back the bile rising in your throat. Tears pricked the edges of your eyes, blurring your vision with smoke and tears.

~~~

You bit your bottom lip, whipping your hair over your shoulder and staring at the man across from you. He was large, muscles bulging through the thin black shirt he wore, yet he was no where near strong enough to take you down. Theoretically, the only person out of this year's batch of hunters that could possibly stand against you was yourself and that clown whom got his ass kicked out for attacking one of the wardens. This guy was no where near your level, you couldn't even sense any nen.

"What's wrong little girl?" He spat, crouching down and preparing to bulldoze you. "Shaking in your boots?"

You narrowed your eyes with a scowl, scoffing and looking at the chairman across the plaza. "Hardly."

The large man growled and dashed with his arms out stretched. Typical. You jumped high into the air and twisted around, your leg coming back down on his thick skull. Your foot clashed against the crown of his head and shoved his face into the ground, bringing him to a dead stop. Jumping back to the ground you inspected the damage, the floor was cracked and you could barely see his head past the new hole in the ground. The man wasn't moving, you knocked him out.

There was some clapping from the end of the plaza, shoes clacking against tile as he wondered closer. His steel grey eyes trailed down to your chest as he neared, old perv. "I'm a little disappointed." He mused, looking back up to meet your stern gaze. "I thought he would have a better chance against you. Though, it's always a treat to see a first timer beat the Hunter Exam."

You lightly smiled at the praise, a small memory of your father coming into mind. "I appreciate it."

Netero grinned at your words, but it slightly faltered when he glanced back at the designs of your clothes. "So, what hunter are you aiming to be?" He started as he shuffled through his clothes.

"Bounty Hunter, there are a few people I want to find."

"The Phantom Troupe, hm? I can't blame you, they have done some pretty horrible things."

You glanced over at the old man, your gaze being met with a knowing expression and a Hunter License. "Thanks...." You warily replied, taking hold of your new license. It should serve you well, you hoped.

A few hours later you wondered into the fancy hotel you were staying at. A few strangers glanced at you with a disgusted look, you couldn't blame them as you were still covered in dirt, leaves and a few splotches of blood. A tired sigh escaped your lips once you finally got to your room, taking the card and swiping it you entered with a delicate smile. "Kurapika! (S/n)! Where are you guys?"

A tuft of blond hair wizzes past the corner of the small living room. Dark grey eyes quickly following and staring back at you with a disgruntled expression. "Your son is a handful." Spat Kurapika.

Behind him a small, pale skinned figure peeked behind the corner, a cheeky grin plastered on his chubby face. "Momma!" He screeched, rushing over and running into your waiting arms.

You gave him a kiss on his forehead, using your hand to push away his fluffy raven hair. "Pretty sure you were the handful Kurapika, no way this little angel was was trouble."

Kurapika slightly smiled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Only when you are around, anyway, how did it go?"

You sighed and sat on the marble flooring. "It was really easy, but I've had the training for it to be easy. You will probably have a hard time, especially if that clown shows up again." You mumbled the last part, moving to the kitchen to grab you a snack, you were starving.

"Then teach me the "magic" you claim to know."

"I wanna see magic! Momma can you teach me too?" You took a big bite out of your snack, giving a glare to both of the kids.

"Sorry squirt, when you get older I'll teach you."

Kurapika furrowed his brows. "You keep telling me that if I pass the hunter exam you'll teach me."

"Change of plans-"

"Change of plans?! What do you mean change of plans? I still don't understand why you won't teach me this "magic" you keep talking about! I would be strong enough to fight the Phantom-"

"Kurapika." You sternly glared in his direction, the look in your eyes forcing everyone to quite down. "You know I don't want you to even get involved with this. Besides the change of plans isn't that bad, I want you to figure out this "magic" thing yourself and return when you are ready. I still want to teach you, but I don't want you to get killed in the process.

"I have a plan to find and hunt down the Troupe, but it will take time. If you aren't ready by the time I am, you will not be permitted to help. Instead you will stay somewhere safe and take care of (s/n) for me."

Kurpaika's dark grey eyes stared into the back of your head and burned holes into your skull. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, yes I am. Even if you learn this "magic" there is no telling how powerful you will become. Even with years and years of rigorous training like myself, I won't stand a chance against more than two of them at a time." You kept your stance, standing tall above the blond you called a little brother. "I don't want to see you get hurt, Kurapika. I can't see you get hurt."

Your son waddled over to your tense form and wrapped his shirt arms around your thighs. "He won't get hurt momma, I'll make sure of it!" A beaming smile did it's best to comfort you.

"I know you will, (s/n)." You turned your attention back to the blond, giving him a stern stare that told him you meant what you said. "I want to protect him too."

Kurapika growled, you knew how important finding and slaughtering the Troupe was to him, so why make it so difficult? Wouldn't it be easier to teach him and make him stronger so the both of you can fight?

You looked away from the blond as he stormed into one of the off rooms, you knew what he was thinking, but that wouldn't change your mind. You blamed yourself for your clan's slaughter and you wouldn't be able to live if he was to die too. You didn't want him to get involved in our own affairs, especially when they were so dangerous.

"Momma," You glanced down at the head of fluffy black hair still clinging to your legs. "Why do you and Uncle Kurapika argue so much? Who is this Phantom Troupe?" His chuffs cheeks puffed out, his brows furrowing in thought.

"(S/n)... it's a long story. One you aren't old enough to hear I'm afraid." You leaned down, picked him up, and rubbed your nose to his own rosy one. "Till then I'll keep you safe."

"From the Troupe?"

You glanced away form his coal black eyes, the painful memories a bit too much to handle at the moment. "From monsters that want to hurt you." You planted a kiss on his forehead, wiping away some of the scars burned into your mind.

~~~

You were going to strangle that boy when you find him. With gritted teeth and blazing eyes, you haven't been this pissed off in years. You stomped over to the glass window of the hotel room your all too kind employer provided.

You gave him simple instructions, go off and figure out the basics of "magic", and then return for more training. It was supposed to be a test for the rebellious teen.

That's what it was supposed to be. Instead, he decided he had enough of you and left to find the Troupe on his own, leaving your precious son to be alone in a secure hotel room while you worked. You might just kill Kurapika next time you see him.

You fanned down the small wrinkles on your slim dress, straightening out the slit that trailed to your thigh. It was black and long enough to trail behind your tall heels. Around your neck was a pearl necklace and a fur scarf hanging on your shoulders. Your hair was curled and allowed to flow freely behind you. You also had some pearl earrings and a pearl bracelet.

Swiping the last of your lipstick on, pursing your lips and giving them a little smack before turning to the small child on the couch. His eyes were glued to a puzzle he decided was more interesting than the television. "(S/n), I'm going to have to go in a minute. You'll be fine right?"

Doe eyes glanced back at you, a puzzle piece tightly held in his hands. "I'll be fine!"

"You remember the rules right?"

"No leaving without you or Kurapika, don't answer the door unless it is you or Kurapika, make sure I call you if something is wrong or when I go to bed,-"

"I get it." You waved a hand in his face, a gentle smile etched onto your painted lips. "My smart little boy remembers everything."

He nodded, leaning into the backside of the couch to wrangle you into a hug. "Come back soon!"

"I will, don't worry. Love you."

"Love you too."

You were off, leaving and meeting with your employer at his hotel before making your way to a dinner with a few high end Mafia men. You quickly met up with the man, he was a son to one of the ten dons and hired you as both a body guard and a rental girlfriend. A little demeaning in your eyes but anything to get close to your targets.

"You look stunning." Mentioned the man, his arm linking with your own. He was a handsome man, that was obvious, a real charmer too. With chocolate brown hair slicked back and bright green eyes you could stare at for an eternity. He was broad shouldered and muscular underneath his crisp dark grey suit, a pale yellow under shirt and a maroon tie adding to his attractiveness. The poor flirt would be dead if you outwardly admitted that though.

"Likewise." Your hand placed itself on top his forearm, letting him guide you to the fancy limousine he had for the two of you.

You decided conversation would be the best thing at the moment, as getting to know a man you are supposed to temporarily date would be best for the illusion. "Where are we going to meet your father?"

"Ah, a nice restaurant just a few blocks uptown from the auction site." He directed his head to take your facial features in. "They have the best steak I've ever had, amazing garlic butter."

You were beyond tense, but a relaxed smile crept onto your lips. "I just might have to try that. Who else is coming?"

"My father's friends, one is another don, and my two other brothers. I wouldn't worry though, they might ask you a few questions but I would just let me do the talking." He gave you a kind smile, turning back to the driver and telling him the name of the restaurant.

"I don't mean to be rude, but if anything happens I'll have to leave and take care of it."

"Oh! I know, they know. My family actually told me to, uh, rent a girlfriend for the auction days." He ran a hand through his chocolate locks, a sigh escaping his lips and he relaxed in his chair. "Rumor has it that something bad might happen during this auction. Something about sleeping? Like death."

"If that's the case, then I might have to take an early leave."

He gave you a cocky grin. "Just tell me what's happening outside the restaurant, I'm curious about what kind of stuff a hunter gets into."

You returned his gaze, finally relaxing just a bit more. "I'll make sure to keep you posted."

"Sir," alerted the driver. "We're here."

"Good! Let's get something to eat, shall we?"

You nodded, sliding your dress to the side to exit the vehicle. "Oh! Please, don't make me look bad." He jested, quickly shuffling to your side to open the door. "I'll embarrass myself in front of my dad."

"About that, I never introduced myself did I? My name is (y/n)."

He gave a dopey grin. "Right, I'm Jason, it probably would be a good idea to know each other's names, huh? Well, let's go before my dad thinks we are doing something suggestive." He winked and held out his arm for you to take, in which you did with a small scoff.

The two of you walked into the restaurant, a grand archway with a fancy chandelier lighting up the entire entrance with a warm glow. Black marble coated the floor with a glossy reflection, and your heels clicked against them with an elegant sway of your dress.

A man stood at the enterence, another shorter version of Jason. "Ah, Jason! How've you been?" He glanced over at you and gave a devilish grin. "Wow, what a catch. Maybe she'll decide to stay?"

The new stranger sauntered over, a shoulder being wrapped around your shoulders. "If he isn't your type I'm always available. Jackson, by the way." He whispered in your ear with a raspy tone.

"Ignore him," Jason mumbled to you, his cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment, "He's always like this with any human of the female gender."

Humor yourself, or let the poor man walk away with some of his dignity intact? Nah, if you were going to give some of your dignity with these men you might as well have some fun. "You poor thing," You began, turning with a gentle smile to the brother. "Can't keep it in his pants, hmm?" You softly patted the fluffy hair on his head and pouted, shuffling out of his grip and wrapping your arm back with Jason. "Better luck next time." You retorted with a little wave.

With his breath caught in his throat, he coughed and turned to the direction of where their table was. "The tables this way, dad's already there." His mumbling quieted down as he led the way.

Jason turned to you, kept in a laugh, and shrugged. The restaurant was warm along with the cozy glow of the chandeliers hanging from the tall roof. There were many tables, black with cushioned chairs and blazing candles.

Your eyes zeroed on the candles, the beautifully dangerous flame causing you to start sweating. You gulped down the lump in your throat and forced yourself to relax your tensing limbs. 'It's just a small flame, nothing to be afraid of.' You scolded yourself.

The two of you wondered into a private room in the back. There was a large, round, black table in the center of the room, a few couches on the walls with side tables. There were a few candles in the center along with a crystal vase filled with blood red roses. As much as you loved the roses, they reminded you of him.

To distract yourself you glanced around the room, the father and Jackson were conversing, the other son sitting and listening. Jackson pointed in your direction, a sly smirk on his face.

Jason leaned in. "That's my dad," he pointed over to one of the other walls near the couch. A man was leaning on the side, his crisp suit wrinkling with his crossed legs. He had a beard, small but neat, with deep blue eyes and tan flesh. "That is Manchile, he's the Don I was talking about."

There were a few other notable people, but when Jason and you entered the entire room lightened up. The father stood and sauntered over, a sleazy smile gracing his gruff features. "I hope Jason didn't make a move on you?" He extended his hand, slightly calloused from use, but large and warm.

You took it with a gentle smile, time to suck up your pride and be a darling. "I wouldn't worry about him, he's quite the gentleman." Your hand was in worse shape than his, more rough, and must have noticed. The father's face changed into one of surprise and respect. "I'd watch out for that one though." You pointed to Jackson, the man lightly scoffing with a grin.

"Will do." He said with a chuckle.

Manchile joined the table, a few of his men sitting down too. "I'm starved, let's eat."

"Sure thing." The father returned his attention to Jason and you. "Ladies first."

The table was filled, and you ended up being sandwiched between Jason and Manchile. Your eyes would periodically go back to the candles in front of you, and all you could do was twist a small bit of your dress skirt to calm your nerves. You all ordered, and you took your date's advice with the steak.

As you were waiting, the unknown brother, leaned in and gave you a curious smile. "So, a hunter huh? I've never met one, what's it like?"

All eyes were on you now, and you relaxed with the distraction. "It's dangerous work... but if you were trained correctly then it is worth it. Plenty of benefits as long as you hunt something."

"Who trained you?" His green eyes gleamed begins his thin glasses. "Sorry if I'm prying, just curious."

"I don't mind. I trained myself. I've always wanted to become a hunter."

"Really? Ooh, what about the test? I've heard it's impossible!"

You slightly smiled, Manchile leaning in and joining the conversation. "Some of my men are hunters, they talked about fighting each other and impossible puzzles. My best man had to find the damned test four times before he made it."

You cocked an eyebrow. "Well he's not wrong. All the tests are different but we did have to fight each other. There were some puzzles but I didn't think they were that difficult...." You locked your lipstick and took a sip of your water, keeping your posture and chin held high. "Four times huh? I got my license on my first try."

Manchile cackled in his water cup. "Really? You make my best look like babies." The waiter returned with a large bottle of red wine and began to pour it to everyone who wanted some. You declined, drinking on the job wouldn't bid well if something happened. "Next your going to say you could win against one of the beasts."

You stayed silent, doing your best to keep your smile hidden behind your glass of water. Jason peeked over and noticed your curled lips. "No way, seriously?"

"Not sure, never tried." You commented, giving him a cocky side eye. "But probably."

It was the father's turn to laugh, Jackson joining in with some bread in his hands. "Come on, no one's stronger than the beasts. You've got to be crazy."

The father butted in with a joke. "You're a bounty hunter right? You didn't come here to take us out, hmm?"

"No, no, that'd be bad for business. I'm actually after the Phantom Troupe." The table quieted down, so you continued. "Rumor has it some people will 'sleep' tonight, take that as you will, I'm just here for security purposes. More or less."

Manchile waved over a waiter and asked for another bottle before asking some more questions. "You think they will attack? What makes you think they are crazy enough to challenge the mafia?"

"Well, I will admit I don't have proof, but it would be a missed opportunity. I mean if people are going to 'sleep' then the only criminals crazy enough to try anything would be the Troupe. They are also strong enough to do so. I guess you could say it's a hunch."

A few new waiters entered with the food. They set it on the table, asked if we needed anything else, and left.

"Well, son, you found one interesting woman, huh?"

Jason gave a breathy laugh, as if he was trying to keep his nerves together. "Yeah, I guess I did."

The current conversation died out and turned into useless banter. What they wanted to get from the auctions, who they would be fighting it for, money, fame, glory, all of it. Jason leaned over and asked if you wanted something, but you declined the generous offer. You knew there would be Kurt's eyes, but buying them seemed a bit off. Almost like cheating.

You wanted to collect them through force, just like they did, only then will you be satisfied. Still, you appreciated the offer and made sure he knew you did.

Everything was calm, the food was hot and the candles became a later memory from the conversations you were listening in on. That was until a sudden ding echoed in the private room. Then another, and another, and quickly everyone's phones rang of emergency alerts and messages.

You didn't have to glance over Jason's shoulder to see the message, you already knew what happened. Still, a part of you checked to make sure you didn't have to leave the welcoming lot of individuals.

You didn't know wether to be disappointed or excited, but either way you faced your date. "I'll head over to the auction house to investigate—"

"We all will." Commanded the father. "The merchandise is missing, as well as everyone else."

"Everyone else?"

Manchile pulled himself from his seat. "Owl grabbed the stuff before shit went down. But everyone in the auction house is gone, poof, missing." There was another synchronized ding. "There's a hot air balloon heading south."

"In the direction of Meteor City?" You commented, already heading towards the door. "I'll head over there. Keep me informed, I need a list of the people missing and a list of people chasing down the balloon. Anything else of importance will help." You pointed to Jason, but he held out his hand.

"Do you think it's the Troupe?"

You turned and stared into his chocolate eyes, his brows furrowed with worry. So you smiled kindly. "I know it's the Troupe."

"Get the Shadow Beasts." The father's voice trailed off behind the door.

You were calm as you walked through the restaurant, the hectic banter of the trailing mafia men closely behind. They passed you and exited, you quickly following suit. The outside air was crisp and humid from an old rain and the clouds coated the sky like a blanket.

"Are you calling them Jared?"

"Hurry and get worm on the phone Jackson!"

"You already have the merchandise? Good, good, keep it safe and get the others. Worm, Rabid Dog, Porcupine, and Leech are already on their way."

"(Y/n)! If it's the Troupe you should wait for the other beasts and go with them. Just to be safe." Jason held your hand, finally noticing the toughness of your overworked hands. His were soft, raised with little trouble unlike yourself.

"I'll be fine, I'm strong enough to last against one, maybe two of the members if I'm lucky." You slipped your hand from his grip and tore off your expensive heels, no need for them to get ruined like your dress. "Can you hold these for me? I'd hate for them to get dirty." You handed him your pearls, leaving the earrings because they wouldn't get caught on anything. "I'll have to come back and get them."

You smiled at him again and summoned your gauntlets, dashing off to catch a hot air balloon. He stared at your disappearing form, a clear as day blush spread across his cheeks.

~~~

You made it after a while of running, but the battle had already begun. You stationed yourself on top of the plateau surrounding the battlefield, and already you scolded yourself for not trying to keep the beasts as back-up.

Their bodies littered the floors and blood soaked the dry earth. Biting your lip, you assessed the playing field. Uvogin sat alone, a hairy man you could only assume was the Porcupine character stuck to his fist. The rest of the Troupe members, not all of them, sat along the sides with cards in their hands. Machi, Nobunaga, Feitan, Franklin, Shizuku and Shalnark. You wondered if that was everyone or if someone was hiding.

Next was a few mafia men smart enough to not engage in battle, but why haven't they run off yet? You would have taken more care in who they might be, but you were quickly cut off with an ear piercing scream. You covered your ears and crouched down further, wincing at your late reaction.

Uvogin smiled and waited. Blood spurt from Porcupine's ears and not a moment later he fell to the floor with a dead eyed thud. The mafia men began to make their move, so you wondered closer to where they were stationed.

Then it happened, chains tightly wound themselves around Uvogin and tugged him into oblivion. Chains... chains! Kurapika! With your new revelation you ran towards the car everyone was piling into. But in no time Uvogin was packed in and they began their drive away.

With a low growl you sprinted faster and jumped off the cliff side and towards the first car. You tumbled onto the roof, denting it underneath the impact, and attached yourself with your gauntlets.

Your burning rage dismissed the passenger's window, and you smashed into it without care for who was on the other side. Gripping their shirt and almost pulling them out, the frightened girl screeching. "Kurapika!"

Two pairs of red eyes stared into each other's souls. He knew he was in deep shit. "(Y/n)-"

"Don't you fucking dare." You snapped, pointing your finger to the man tied up in the backseat., but your eyes stayed glued on the blond. "I swear to god if I hear any bullshit I'm going to tear a tongue out!"

"Someone's in a pissy mood." A deep voice reverberated through the small confines of the black car. Finally, you glared at the man in the back seat, his entire body tied under nen chains.

"Eat lead Uvo."

"Already checked off the bucket list (y/n/n)."

God, you hated that nickname.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere phantom troupe #yandere chrollo lucilfer #Yandere chrollo #Yandere Phantom Troupe x reader #Yandere chrollo x reader #just a teaser because this one is a long one #Kurta reader #fem reader #Yandere x reader #not even a teaser literally probably the first half #maybe the first third of the full fiction #Yandere hunter x hunter fanfic #puttin grandom tags cause it’s late #love you guys #strong reader

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bill-y · 3 years

Text

INURE

Peeta Mellark x Reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part four: Click here, rooroorara shooty shooty vang vang

Part five: You're right here, silly!

Part six: Click here, war criminal of 1878!

Wattpad acc: L0calxDumbass

The moment the anthem finished, we were taken into custody. It's not as if we were cuffed or anything; a group of Peacekeepers simply marched us through the front door of the Justice Building.

Each year, at least one of the tributes tries to escape; I've never seen one successfully do so.

Once inside, they put me in a room. It's the most prosperous place I've been to. With a thick carpet in the ground and a weird couch made of fabric, I've never seen before.

It was a strange texture, almost like the weird fuzzy stuff in deer's antlers. My father called them velvet; was this the same thing? If so, that's a bit gross.

Despite this, I still caressed the couch; it was oddly comforting. Almost like you're patting a nearly hairless kitten. It switched from smooth to rough each time I ran my hands through it.

Then I remembered that we only had an hour to say goodbye to our loved ones before leaving for the Capitol. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in. I didn't want to cry at all; the cameras were trained on me. I'm sure the Capitol would eat my tears up.

The first people who came in were my mother and my brother. Kunal let out a sob as he ran towards me, practically throwing himself onto me. I hugged him, staying silent as he buried his face into my neck, afraid that if he let go, I would disappear.

But I needed to break it one way or another. "Mother," I called, my voice detached. Her green eyes met mine, her lips quivering. I gulped down my spit, taking another deep breath in. "Do you. . . Have any idea on how you'll support yourselves. . ?" I asked.

Her eyes landed on the thick, red carpet. "Not as of now," she answered grimly, "But Katniss' mother offered me some work at the apothecary,"

My arms around my brother tightened. Maybe Gale and Katniss could bring them some of the game as well, though I wouldn't count on it. Why would they help us when they have other things to worry about? It's not as if I could teach Nal how to hunt either. The boy's frightened by his own shadow.

All he's good for right now for picking flowers as much as I love him. A sigh escaped my lips, my chest falling slowly as the reality sunk in.

"Well, you must think of something," I told her, my brows furrowing. "I'm not going to come back; I won't be able to support you and—"

"No!" she barked, "No! You will come back, Y/n." she proclaimed, her eyes shaking. She clenched her, fists, "Swear that you will."

Bitterness rose within me. "Tell that to the Capitol, mother," I said coolly. "If I die, then I—." My words were cut short by the sobbing of my brother.

He sniffled, pulling away from my now wet neck. "You'll win, won't you?" he croaked, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his reaping clothes.

I felt my heart stop; what was I supposed to say to him? "No, Nal. I will surely die, don't count on it," a lump formed in my throat.

My eyes landed on my mother, who gave a stern look. It told me to lie, if not for her sake, then for my brother's. With shaky hands, I held my brother's shoulders. "I'll make it out; then we can— gather some flowers in Victor's village, yes?"

Nal nodded, hugging me once more. I took a deep breath before I started explaining what they should do. With mother possibly getting a job at the apothecary, perhaps they have a chance to survive, after all. Though I'm not sure, that's such a pleasant thought with the fact that I will die.

Soon enough, a Peacekeeper was at the door, telling them their time was up. I gave Nal a hard squeeze before pushing him off. My mother nodded at me; her strawberry blonde hair bounced as she did so. "I love you both,"

The words were stuck in my throat; I couldn't say them. Maybe it was because of my strained relationship with my mother or because I hated the fact that I had just given my brother a false sense of hope. I simply watched as they walked away, hand in hand.

Nal's watery blue eyes looked back at me one last time, a look of sadness. He knew I was lying. I sounded unconvinced when I told him. My posture slumped; I felt horrible. Our maker is siis merely, I suppose.

The next visitor was unexpected; Peeta's father, the baker. My gut churned; I was off to kill his son soon. Why has he come to visit me? Perhaps he has come to beg me not to kill his son? Not that I could either way, Peeta was stronger than me: it was clear as day.

He handed me a small piece of parchment. It was filled with warm cookies. A delicacy. He must've visited his son; after all, why would he just me cookies? I was about to die anyway; why feed a dead man?

I let out a huge breath, "How was the squirrel?" my voice pierced through the thick silence. He shrugged, "Alright," he answered. Then another wave of silence hit us. I sniffed awkwardly, the scent of fresh bread entering my lungs.

I couldn't think of anything to say. What was I supposed to do? ApoloApologisebe, but I never really liked apoloapologisingee no need to. If I'm sorry, then I'll show it. We sat in awkward silence before the Peacekeepers told him his time was up. He stood up, clearing his throat.

"I'll keep an eye on the little boy, make sure he's eating," He stated before leaving. I felt the pressure lift from my chest. They may not like me much, but Nal was practically an angel to them. An angel born in a family of rebels, I'm guessing, is their thoughts.

The next guest then entered. Madge. Her expression wasn't weepy nor evasive, nor did she wear that bright smile she always had when she was around me. It looked urgent. She walked straight to me, the urgency in her tone quite surprising, "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home, will you wear this?" she holds out a circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier.

My brows furrowed, "Your pin?' I said. Does she really to die wearing rich-people-things? That hasn't even crossed my mind. . .

"I'll put it on your tunic, alright?" She said, not waiting for my answer as she leaned in and fixed the bird on my chest. "Promise me you'll wear it to the arena, Y/n. Promise me," She took my hand, her thumbs rubbing the back of my own.

Compared to Peeta's, hers was cold yet soft, almost as if she was nervous, worried. But why would she? I barely talk to her; she's the one who always strikes a conversation. All I do is nod and disagree at certain times.

She leaned closer to my face; I gave her an uncertain smile, pulling away. "Thank you, Madge," I muttered. She nodded, letting go of my hands. "Please, stay safe," her voice trembled as she rushed out of the room. I was left standing there, confused. What was that? Why did she visit me despite my rudeness earlier?

Next was Gale and Katniss. I didn't hesitate to hug both of them before pulling away with a sigh. "Hey, you'll be fine," Gale reassured, patting my shoulder. I stayed silent, only nodding. Katniss gave me a pity smile, "I'm sure it would be fairly easy to get knives, Y/n."

A sigh left my mouth, "I know— I just— Don't want to—" I stammered, making a stabbing motion with my hand. Gale gave me a pitied look, "It's just like hunting, Y/n. You're the best hunter we know," he said.

"They're not animals. They think; they're armed." I reasoned, my voice trembling. Why did I have to feel these emotions now? Maybe reality has finally settled in, the truth that I'll never see any of these faces again. On the off chance that I do, I'm sure they'll view me differently, a cold-blooded murderer.

"What's the difference, reale said grimly. Those words echoed in my head as they went away with the Peacekeepers. What is the difference? We're all just feral dogs forced to fight or cocks pit against each other.

I took a deep breath as I got called to ride a wagon to the train station. It was a relatively short ride. We never really had the luxury of these; we always had to travel by foot.

I silently thanked myself for not crying; there were insect-like cameras trained onto my face. Thankfully, I knew how to act, to bite my tongue. If I hadn't, I'd probably be screaming profanities. My eyes glanced onto the television screen; I look bored. Which, I surprisingly was.

It was as if my spirit left me already.

Peeta Mellark, on the other hand, had obviously been crying. However, he didn't even try to hide it, which was quite odd. Was this his strategy? To appear weak and vulnerable to assure the other tributes that he was no threat? This worked for a girl from district 7. Johanna Mason.

She seemed frightened, a cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until only a handful left. She then killed them all, with no problem whatsoever. I remember watching this game, quite shocked. She sold her act to me, but then again, maybe I'm just oblivious.

This worked for her because she looked frail, weak. Peeta applying this strategy was quite odd. Not only did he not look soft, but he was also jacked. He just looked like a big doofus. All those years having bread to eat and hauling trays made him physically capable.

Annoyance rose through me when we had to stand by the train's entrance while cameras gobbled out images up. I was sure I no longer looked bored but rather pissed. It wasn't like I was about to put on a pretty smile for them. These jester-dressed-worms should know how I feel.

Finally, we boarded, and the train began to move at once. The speed took my breath away. It was going faster than I could ever think of. The scenery around us just blurred—a mix of the neutral colour palette that made up District 12.

We were taught about coal in school. Some basic maths and reading before it circled back to coal again. Our district was used for coal mining, even hundreds of years ago.

Then there are the weekly lectures about the history of Panem, which never fails to annoy me. It's all blather about how we owe the Capitol because of the rebellion and whatnot.

I knew they're hiding something; we couldn't have lost that easily. I always think about this whenever I'm up in the trees, daydreaming, which is why I'm always the last one to arrive at the hill.

The tribute train was much fancier than the room at the Justice building. We were given our own rooms, a dressing area and private bathroom with cold and hot running water. We've never really had hot water readily available at home; we had to boil it.

Though I can't say, I like it, with all that effort I just end up not liking the bath. I much prefer the cold, flowing current of a river.

There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket told me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my father’s tunic and take a cold shower. I’ve never had a shower before. It’s like being in the rain, inky much tamer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants, trying my hair to the usual, small pa

At the last minute, I remember Madge’s little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It’s as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wingtips. I suddenly recognise it—a Mockingjay.

Funny little birds, my favourite creature in the forests, that's for sure. These were a slap to the Capitol's face. They genetically altered animals as weapons. Muttations as we call them, or Mutts for short. One particular kind was a bird they labelled Jabberjay, able to memorise and repeat whole human conversations.

Homing birds, exclusively male that were released into regions where the Capitol’s enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they’d fly back to centres to be recorded. It took people a while to realise what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centres were shut down, and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

But they didn't die; instead, they mated with the female mocking birds and produced this weird species that can replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They've lost the ability to enunciated words but could still mimic a range of human vocal cords.

My father used to sing them a lot. I guess he passed that habit down to me. Whenever I'm not doing anything, I find myself singing to the hummingbirds, who surprisingly listen and replicate my Father's song. It was a simple melody, made of 10 notes at least.

It warmed by heart, especially at times where I miss him. I smiled, fastening the pin to my shirt, the dark green as its background.

Effie came to collect me. I followed her through a narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable. There waiting for us was Peeta Mellark, the chair beside him empty.

"Where's Haymitch?" Asked Effie Trinket brightly.

"Last time I saw him he said he was going to take a nap," said Peeta. "Well, it’s been an exhausting day," said Effie Trinket. I think she’s relieved by Haymitch’s absence, and who can blame her?

Food came in courses. Though I barely touched the carrot soup, the chocolate cake, lamb chops nor the mashed potatoes. I wasn't going to eat this, not from the Capitol.

My jaw clenched as Effie told me to eat up, smiling brightly at me. I gave her a pained smile, slowly taking a bite of the lamb on my plate before swallowing it roughly.

A swirl of guilt formed in my stomach, was I eating really this luxurious food whilst Nal and mother struggle? I sighed, digging my nails into my palms.

Peeta looked at me oddly as he stuffed his face, he nudged my side and nodded towards the food. I simply shook my head, pushing the plate away.

Effie put her lips together at my stubbornness. She was muttering something about having no manners.

We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that since none of them has to attend reapings themselves.

One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We examine the faces of the kids who will be in our competition. A few stand out in my mind.

A monstrous boy who lunges forward to volunteer from District 2. A fox-faced girl with sleek red hair from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she’s very like Nal in size and demeanour. Only when she mounts the stage and task for volunteers, all you can hear is the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. There’s no one willing to take her place.

Last of all, District twelve. It showed Nal getting called and me volunteering. The commentators weren't sure about what to say regarding the silence. I only smirked at this, crossing my legs in amusement. Just in time, Haymitch fell from the stage, earning a comical groan from the commentators.

Peeta silently took his place on the stage; we shook hands and then just cut to the anthem.

Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour."

Unexpectedly, Peeta laughed. "He was drunk." He said. "He's drunk every year."

"Everyday," I added, finally breaking my silence streak with a smirk. Effie makes it sound kike Haymitch just had rough manners that could easily be dealt with.

"Yes," She hissed "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?" he slurred. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls in a mess.

"So laugh away!" said Effie Trinket. And so I did, I barked out mocking laughter as she hopped in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and fled the room.

Word count: 2974

Tags:

@nin3s

#hunger games x reader #hunger games #hunger games x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #peeta mellark x male reader #peeta mellark x reader #peetamellark #x male reader #gale #male x male reader

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corrupt-fvcker · 4 years

Text

Boba Fett Fluff Alphabet

Fluff / Relationship Alphabet ( Boba Fett x fem!Reader )

Warnings: fluff overload, NSFW themes, unedited writing, boba fett deserves a warning of his own

Word Count: 5.1K

Author's Note: i was going to write an nsfw alphabet for boba but then i realized that writing a fluff/relationship alphabet would be 100x harder because he's about as emotional as a brick. maybe an angsty brick, but a brick nonetheless. psa, i wrote this at 2am so it might be a little crazy.

A is or Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?): So let's get one the thing straight, Boba's the best bounty hunter in the entire galaxy during the reign of the Galactic Empire. His success rate is unchallenged by any of his so-called competitors and even the most dangerous quarry doesn't stand a chance against Boba Fett. But here's the catch, you don't become the best by sitting around. Free time? Yeah, that's essentially nonexistent aboard the Slave I. So it makes sense that he met his girlfriend through his job. Boba has originally hired you to work as a mechanic for the Slave I, because after one too many power outages in the middle of an asteroid field with a hull full of quarries — Boba vowed to never leave a planet without a mechanic on board again.

So even if designated free time isn't necessarily a thing aboard the Slave I, there are peaceful times in between quarries that offer you some along time with Boba. And even if Boba's adamant on staying focused on bounty hunting, sometimes he'll let his guard down just enough for you to get the attention you're craving.

But just because there isn't enough time in his day to spend hours alone with you, don't think that Boba would neglect your needs. If you need someone to lay with you because you're feeling especially anxious and lonely, Boba will settle down beside you on your shared cot. Sure, he might grumble something under his breath that doesn't quite register through his vocoder and his sigh might be absolutely royal, but he'll lay down with you as lon as you want because Maker forbid you go looking for affection elsewhere. And if you need someone to listen to your rants or a shoulder to lean on, Boba will offer his shoulder and mediocre listening skills to you dutifully. Because even if he's the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, he has to remind himself that he's also your boyfriend. And yeah, he'll make mistakes but he's going to try his best to be there for you.

Now what does Boba like to do with you once you're both finally able to catch your breaths in between quarries? He likes to fuck. Which may only add to his extreme symptoms of exhaustion, but he just can't help himself.

B is for Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?): Physically, Boba really likes your legs. He loves the way your ankles crisscross against his lower back with your wrap your legs around his waist, desperately holding onto him. While working on the ship you were baggy grease-stained trousers, but once those come off? Fuck, Boba's done for. He can't help but trace every curve of your legs, yearning to kiss and lick up from your calves to your thighs. Don't even try wearing short dresses or mini skirts around him, he'll tear the fabric off of you like a kid opening Christmas presents before you can even get a word in.

Now beyond physical beauty, Boba really admires your compassion. It's a rare trait, Boba's figured this out the hard way. You're incredibly strong and Boba knows that you can handle yourself, but you've got this soft heart that Boba's adamant on protecting. You're kind and understanding, you aren't quick to judge or hate even when you should. You're also stubborn to a fault, which Boba shouldn't find as endearing as he does. You're the only person in the entire galaxy that he's met that's more stubborn than himself — so of course he ends up falling in love with you.

C is for Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?): Like I said, Boba's a busy guy, being the best takes a lot of time and energy. But don't ever think that he doesn't have enough time for you. Even if there isn't enough time in the day, he'll be sure to make the time for you. If you're feeling particularly sad or stressed, Boba will be there for you. Admittedly, he's not the best at the whole emotions thing, but he'll try. And he's still learning how to be all soft 'n sweet for his girlfriend, but he'll always try his best for you. He'll do whatever you need — yes, even if that means putting a pause on his job for a few hours. He wouldn't admit that he enjoys holding you but he reluctantly does enjoy it very much. He'll try his very best to keep his surly deposition in check, making sure to be extra kind to you if you're feeling down. And yes, he's learned this the hard way (he'll never comment on his squeaky pilot's seat that he asked you to fix when you're on your period again for as long as he lives). And if you're all teary-eyed he will trying his kriffing best to be supportive about whatever's gotten you so upset, even if crying makes him very, very uncomfortable. He will be extremely tense the entire time he holds you as you cry into his chest but he won't make any remarks and he will not pull away even if he wants to lock himself in the cockpit.

D is for Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o?): Honestly, Boba's not entirely sure. He's been a bounty hunter his life whole, it's all he really knows. He didn't necessarily plan on falling in love and he most certainly didn't plan on having dreams of a domesticated life fill his head when he sleeps. Boba Fett thought he'd never be caught dead dreaming about settling down on some outer rim planet with the love his life. He didn't think his mind wander as he sits alone in the cockpit, thinking about it the two of you would ever marry. He didn't think he'd secretly crave a little house and a family to fill the rooms. But suddenly he is thinking about all those disgustingly domestic things and he's not revolted at the idea of having a family, he actually kinda wants one.

So yeah, Boba's not entirely sure of what your future together is going to look like, but as long as you're together he figures you'll be alright.

E is for Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?): Nobody has ever — in all his years of life — used the word passive to describe Boba. It's like oil and water, they just don't mix. Boba likes control, he calls the shots because he really only trusts himself to call them. And even after the two of you finally get together, Boba's not passive. Softer maybe. Or perhaps kinder. But not passive. Whether it be out in public, in the privacy of the Slave I, or beneath the sheets, Boba's the dominant one in your relationship. And it certainly doesn't help that he's technically your boss. If he needs his squeaky pilot's chair fixed you are kinda obligated to fix it. But even outside of your so-called professional relationship, he calls the shots. It took months to convince him to allow you to ride him, but even with you on top, he was somehow still in control. You're not entirely sure if Boba being a perfectionist is accurate but— who the hell are you kidding, yes, that's exactly what Mister The-Best-Bounty-Hunter-In-The-Galaxy is. He likes the control he has whenever he's in a position of authority, it's a feeling of stability that the life of a bounty hunter lacks. But even if he's more dominant in your relationship than you are, he'll never neglect your wishes. He always makes sure that your basic needs are being met and that you're comfortable.

F is for Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?): Being a bounty hunter is... stressful. Most arguments between the two of you are petty and avoidable, like you don't really need to argue about who's the better pilot (but you do). Genuine arguments are a rarity, mainly because the two of you are both too busy and too tired to pick fights that are going to last longer than two or three minutes. But every once in a while, all hell in unleashed upon the Slave I and thank the Maker the quarries are all frozen in carbonite because they'd be widely for a bolt if they heard the two of you going at it. There are few topics that Boba and you argue about that actually matter. Namely, safety and (the dreaded) emotions. Like I said, Boba tries real hard to be a supportive and loving boyfriend, but sometimes he just doesn't make the cut. And sometimes he's just, well, an asshole and you're about two seconds away from kicking his green ass out into space. Though as your relationship evolves, these arguments grow less and less common.

Though the topic of safety is always very much present aboard the Slave I. Boba's job is dangerous and a small mistake can have major consequences if you're both not careful. And you understand that, but that doesn't mean you don't get a little annoyed with him. He's a little overbearing (a perfectionist, if you will). Boba has this list. A great, big, long list filled with rules that must be followed when both on and off the ship. And you find that the closer you and Boba become, the more stricter these rules grow. And sometimes (usually) you slip up and break one or two (or three) rules, because sometimes it feels like you're walking on fucking ice with all these rules. But you really shouldn't break them because they're there specially for your safety, so when you break them, Boba kinda loses his shit. It usually starts as a yelling match and it usually ends with a silent treatment from both parties. And more often than not, Boba is the one that has to apologize because you're more stubborn than him and he's also usually the one in the wrong.

After the conflict had been resolved, it can end in one of two ways. Firstly, you and Boba can lay together 'n cuddle because that's both relaxing and reassuring that you both love each other. Or secondly, you can have rough make up sex because that's also both relaxing and reassuring that you both love each other.

G is for Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?): Boba may not be the best at expressing his gratitude, but he really is appreciative of everything you do for him. He's not the best with words, he can never think of the right thing to say at the right time unless it's some snark comment that will make you roll your eyes. He tries his best to show you how grateful he is of you, and he knows he can't solely rely on sex to express his gratitude (though you're not complaining). When he's feeling particularly grateful for having a girlfriend as wonderful as you, he tries his best to be extra sweet towards you. And it's the little things that count; asking you if you need anything while he's out, bringing you a snack while you work on the ship, cleaning up after himself to make your life easier.

H is for Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?): Boba's a bit of an extremist when it comes to honesty. He'll either be painfully honest, speaking the truth with little regards to the fact that you may not like what he's saying. He doesn't like how you fixed the Slave I? Oh, you'll hear about it. Does he think that you're acting impulsive and reckless? Prepare for a lengthy lecture. Partially, you admire that he's willing to be so open with you, but on the other hand, sometimes you want to throw your shoe at his head.

But no matter what you'll always prefer Boba being brutally honest over lying. And Boba knows this, he won't let himself lie to you because he knows that it would only drive you apart. Though sometimes when the truth is little too ugly for someone as tender hearted as yourself, he'll opt to just not speak. Because what you don't know can't hurt you, right? Sometimes he'll forget to tell you that the quarry managed to graze him with a blaster bolt. Or he won't say anything when he sneaks out to go beat up the slimeball that tried to touch you at the cantina. He won't answer you when you ask him what's wrong because he doesn't want to burden you with the fact that it's been exactly twenty years since his father died.

So yes, if the truth is ugly enough, he'll protect you from it but he'll never straightout lie to you.

I is for Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?): Boba's rough around the edges, you knew this before anything slightly romantic conspired between the two of you. He's sharp and quick-witted and incredibly stubborn — it's his way or the highway, and no he's not accepting criticizing because he surely knows better than some mechanic. His brutal honesty usually comes out in sarcastic retorts that are a little more personal than he intends them to be. He doesn't like sharing his thoughts, he'll never speak unless he haves to which makes being part of his "crew" increasingly difficult. He's a bachelor too, enjoys venturing into dingy cantinas and have the bartender suck him off in the refresher.

But again, you knew all this way before you ever thought twice of how ridiculously sexy he probably looks beneath his bucket. And once the two of you actually get together, Boba realizes that he's going to need to change his questionable habits if this is ever going to work out. He figures out that, yeah, expressing his feelings kinda completely sucks, but saying what's on his mind is easier than making you worry that you've done something wrong. He also knows that he can't take your affection for granted, he needs to cherish your soft heart because he'd never forgive himself if he's the reason it breaks. Admitedly or not, Boba loves you and he knows that he needs to learn how to be better so that you can be together.

J is for Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?):

Boba never thought he'd be the jealous type, but that was partially because he's never really had someone to be jealous over. Relationships are new to him, which consequently means so is the jealousy the churns his stomach when strangers' stares linger in your direction for longer than he's comfortable with. Don't get me wrong, Boba trusts you to save your affection for him and him only. But he can't help but lose his temper when people approach you at bars like his hand isn't already resting on the small of your back.

K is for Kissing (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?): For someone that has worn a helmet over his head for the majority of his life, Boba's kissing skills are a little too advanced. When you first started working for him, you had always assumed that if something did actually happen between the two of you, Boba would be an inexperienced kisser.

Well, apparently you couldn't have been more wrong. Because as Boba's gloved hand grabs by the nape of your neck and pulls you swiftly into his chest, you start to think that maybe you're the one that's in over their head. And you're suspicions are proven true as soon as his lips are on yours and his hot tongue dips into the cavern of your mouth.

L is for Love Confession (how would they confess to their s/o?): Being the stubborn idiots the two of you are, both of you beat around the bush for quite some time. Surprisingly, Boba fell in love with you a lot faster than anticipated (which fucking terrified him). So when he's watching you stargazing in the cockpit and the three dreaded words nearly slip from his tongue, he nearly haves a heart attack because he wasn't supposed to fall in love with you at all. The original plan was to remain business partners with benefits (which he should've known wouldn't last), but now it's only been two months since your first kiss and he's already preparing to spend the rest of his life with you.

Unsurprisingly, the confession slips from his lips during an argument — not some petty disagreement, but one of your infamous safety arguments. And thank the Maker he was wearing a helmet because fucking tears were lining his eyes and his heart was trying to rip out of his rib cage as he tells you how immature you're being for leaving the ship while he's out after a quarry. And once the three words leave his lips, he quickly realizes that he can't take them back. You look like you've just seen a ghost — eyes wide and jaw slack — and you're not entirely sure of what you should say because you never thought in a million years that Boba Fett would ever love you. And the rest of the evening is blur from the shock of it but Boba swears on his life that your immediate response was a squeaked out"fuck off" because you thought he was toying with you.

But once the bandage was ripped off, saying I love you wasn't as scary as either of you thought it was going to be. It's not exactly a regular sentiment and it's never said with nonchalance, but you both know that you love each other and in special moments you mutter the sweet reassurance to one another.

M is for Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?): Boba's the most shocked of all when he realizes that, yeah, he likes the idea of marrying you. He cherishes the idea of you wearing a ring on your finger for the rest of your shared lives, a symbol of your love. And, fuck, he hates how cheesy it sounds but he just can't help himself. And he's not entirely sure of how to bring up the subject of marriage with you because you've never really expressed interest in getting married and your relationship shared no resemblances to a proper Mandalorian courtship.

But he eventually does propose (and yes, you almost pass out as soon as you turn to see him on his knee), and luckily you accept his proposal with the same smile on your face that makes him feel weak in the knees. There isn't a wedding but you both swap vows and that's all either of you could really ask for. And turns out being married to Boba isn't too different from dating him, except for that he's just a tiny bit more protective and somehow even a bit softer.

N is for Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?): "Sweet girl" - absolutely the softest and most adoring nickname he's given you, and definitely his favorite. And yes, he does notice how sheepish you get when he calls you his sweet girl.

"Kid" - it's definitely your least favorite out of all the names he calls you, which only means that he'll make an effort to call you it more often. He usually uses the endearment when you're being ridiculous, but always used when he's teasing you.

"Babe" - it's so incredibly nonchalant that it doesn't even fit his character, but one night it slips from his lips before he can think twice and it just kinda stuck.

O is for On Cloud Nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?) Boba's love for you is difficult for outside parties to notice, mainly because they're usually too concerned with the fact that a fucking Mandalorian is casually strolling through town. When Boba's in love he's just softer and he usually expresses his emotions through little actions because words are not his strength. Gently resting his gloved hand on the small of your back when he's feeling protective. Tightly gripping your thigh beneath the table when he's feeling jealous. Brushing a strand of hair from your face when he's feeling particularly captivated by your beauty.

P is for PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?): Boba prefers that whatever happens between the two of you stays between the two of you. You're his, he's yours — there's no need for a third party to be meddling in your personal business. It's very unlikely for anyone to even suspect that the you and Boba are in an intimate relationship unless Boba wants them to know. If the drunk at the cantina gets a little too flirty with you, they'll be the first to know that you are certainly spoken for. Boba's not one to indulge in PDA, he prefers the privacy of the Slave I. The ship is a safe space for Boba, he can remove his armor and weapons without having to worry when your touches distract him. He doesn't have to be on edge, he can relax and be with you.

Although Boba prefers to keep affectionate gestures aboard the Slave I, that's not to say that he will not fuck you thoroughly in an ally on Corellia or refresher on Tatooine...

Q is for Quirk (some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship): Boba's surprisingly good at reading people, which even though it's ultimately beneficial for your relationship, it can be really annoying. Because Boba's not exactly the easiest person to be vulnerable around, sometimes you find yourself keeping things from him. You choose not to tell him that your feelings are hurt or that you didn't sleep well the previous night. But it's always fruitless to try to hide something from your boyfriend. He just knows. Your slumped shoulders or fidgeting hands are dead giveaways. He's quick, he'll notice every flaw in your poker face before you even realize that he's looking at you (the visor makes that difficult). And in the beginning of your relationship, Boba wasn't exactly sure how to approach your (ew) feelings. But the longer the two of you are together, he learns that sometimes it's just easier to ask what's wrong than to let your moodiness build up and then explode like a broken dam (his thoughts not mine).

R is for Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?): Boba is about as romantic as a brick (Maker, apparently I really like comparing this green booger to a brick). He doesn't even really try to be romantic because he already knows that he's going to just kriffing suck at it. He knows about all the cliché stuff but he thinks all that is just bullshit and he hopes — for his sake — that you do too.He will not serenade you because he thinks music is just excess noise and he will not buy you one hundred roses because they'll just wither up and die. But just because he's not Mr. Romance doesn't mean that he'll do just about anything to make you happy. He might complain the whole time, but he'll do whatever he needs to do if it means you'll love him forever. He might not serenade you but he will massage your feet and take you out to your favorite restaurant. He might not buy you one hundred roses but he will cuddle you in the morning and make you a cup of caf so that you can get an extra ten minutes of sleep.

S is for Support - (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?): Boba will always support you, no matter what. Does it feel like he's an amazing, supportive boyfriend? Uh... no, not all the time, it's admittedly one of his weaker spots. Boba's a bit of a pessimist and will tell you just about everything that'll illogical in your dream, but once you shoot him the glareTM he'll shut up. So just know that he is supporting you and your dreams, even if he's a grumpy asshole. Though he's lacking the trait of being verbally supportive, he does do everything in his power to help you achieve your goal. Will he complain? Probably. But he'll continue to push you until you achieve your goal.

T is for Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?): Boba's life is already filled with thrill, getting shot at all day is enough for him to want to unwind once he's work day is complete. Every single day is different with Boba, neither of you ever really know what you're getting into. But between the two of you exclusively? There's some sort of routine. Boba's job is usually an all-day affair, so the only time reserved specifically for you is in the morning and at night. Your routine is relatively simple: cuddle in the morning, cuddle at night. What happens between those two points of time is completely random and up to the universe.

U is for Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?):

Just because Boba can read you doesn't necessarily mean that he understands you. The two of you are very different people. Emotions? Over his head. Girl stuff? Don't even bother. Hobbies? His response was 'do you mean work?'. But Maker, he tries to understand you, he really does. He wants you to feel accepted and loved and important. He'll force himself to be empathetic and compassionate with you (even though he has absolutely no idea why your crying). Boba's a good listener, he'll take whatever you tell him to heart and try to piece together the rest.

V is for Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is it's worth in comparison to other things in their life?): Boba has trouble admitting that your relationship is everything to him. The bastard spends his entire fucking day thinking about you and all the things that remind him of you. And he knows he has it bad when he realizes that he'd quit bounty hunting if it meant making you happy. Fuck, he wants to settle down with you (that's a secret though). You are his everything, nothing in the entire universe compares to your love. And he absolutely hates how he's been reduced to some lovesick puppy, but that's what you've done to him and he wouldn't have it any other way.

W is for Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon): Boba secretly really wants to start a family with you. He'd have to quit bounty hunting and live on a secluded planet somewhere in the outer rim, but he thinks about becoming a father a little more than he's willing to admit. The thought of Clan Fett growing excites him more than you'd think. He likes the idea of having someone to teach everything he's learned, just like how his father had taught him. He finds himself wondering what your future children would look like. Would they get his dark hair and tan skin? Or would they resemble their mother? Would you have boys or girls or a mixture of both? How many would you have? Two? Three? Four? Would they follow his Mandalorian ways or would they be more like you? Would any of your children want to become bounty hunters or would they want to become mechanics like you?

X is for XOXO (are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?): In public, Boba's affection is microscopic. But in private he tries to show more affection towards you (he sometimes forgets that it's his job as your boyfriends). He would never admit to liking to kiss and cuddle but he really does. Without fail, every time he removes his helmet the first thing he does is kiss you. And cuddling? This boy will complain so much that you'd think that it's torture, but you're too smart for his bullshit. You know he loves holding you. Why else would his arms always find their way around your waist every night once he thinks you're asleep?

Y is for Yearning (how will they cope when they're missing their partner?): When Boba's away from you, he's one grumpy motherfucker. Which is saying something because he's always a grumpy motherfucker. And Maker pray for the poor quarry that's keeping him from you, he'll beat their ass a little more than usual just because of it. He get's quiet, saving all of his energy for when he finally gets to be with you. Manners? Out the window, fuck off everyone and everything isn't you. Boba's impatient on a good day, when he misses you he's always about two seconds from starting a fight.

Z is for Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship?): Like I said, Boba would do anything for you. Willing he complain while doing so? Naturally, but he'll get whatever he needs to done to make you happy.

————

Tags ( a million years ago I made a post and these were the people that liked it so sorry if you liked it accidentally :3 ): @linguistic-lovers @bubbles-in-autumn @pinkninja190 @beskar-boba @clairestrying @satan-incarnate-666 @waymorecake4me @dirty-dancefl00r5 @tinycollectivetrash @coffeeandtodd @arcadianempress @thesparkleslugs @the-silly-skeleton @greatermaguro @justrunamok

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #reader insert #self insert #fanfic #fanfiction #relationship alphabet #fluff alphabet #boba fett fluff alphabet #corrupt-fvcker #my writing #fluff

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asterekmess · 4 years

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Somebody tickled my salty-bone (in a good way. I love you. thank you.) and now I wanna vent about the absolute shitshow that is Stiles and Scott’s friendship.

Forewarning, I have a v faulty memory and I like to ramble. So. Obligatory Read More.

hoo boy. Now look, I am a salty little sea witch. I don’t like Scott. I love me some Stiles. Listen, I want to acknowledge here that Stiles isn’t perfect. He’s not the best friend that could ever friend, especially not at the beginning of the show. Yeah, he says stuff that riles Scott up. And yeah, he chucks lacrosse balls at Scott bc he’s pissed off at him. And he gets him beat up by blaming him for keying a car. These are objectively shitty things.

Now on to Scott. I’m starting at the beginning, because some brit chick told me once it’s a good place to start. It’s an anti-scott favorite to point out Star Wars. But I wanna talk about the history of Stiles and Scott’s friendship in general. We’re not explicitly told how long they’ve been friends. It’s implied “for ages” but there’s a lot of evidence that points to them not knowing each other until later (my preference is the 5th grade, just after Stiles’ mom died).

Stiles had a boa once, apparently. But Scott doesn’t know this. Stiles was apparently friends with Heather since they were in diapers but Scott doesn’t know her. Stiles has panic attacks and apparently a social anxiety disorder, but Scott has no clue about it.

Stiles doesn’t actually share many, if any, passions/interests with Scott besides Lacrosse. We know Stiles can skate, but Scott has never done it before Ice Pick episode. We know Stiles has other friends like Heather, but they’ve somehow never been introduced to Scott. Stiles plays videogames “Online gaming community that battles mythical creatures” but Scott has no clue what he’s talking about. Stiles has a favorite movie series that Scott has never watched. Scott, if I’m honest, got totally shafted by the show. He has no interests. We see a little dartboard on his wall in his room. We see posters. But he doesn’t do ANYTHING except play lacrosse and go to work at the vet. Then he gets a motorbike, which I guess....is supposed to count as a personality trait? We know jack-shit about Scott’s hobbies, even though he’s the main character. And what we do know is in Negatives. We know he has a shit vocabulary. We know he doesn’t like to read. (at least...before his “better Scott McCall program”) We know he doesn’t bowl. We know he sucks at literally all school related things. We know he has literally no other friends besides Stiles, until he becomes a werewolf.

But to me, what stands out is how...unobliging Scott is about their friendship?

It’s established that Scott usually runs around with Stiles when he’s got an idea, yeah. Two bros being dumbasses. Got it. But Stiles clearly has this whole mentality/joke view of them that’s Batman & Robin “I don’t wanna be Robin all the time” but Scott just sort of...shuts him down? “No one’s batman and robin any of the time”

I acknowledge that it’s a sort of tense situation...kind of? He’s sneaking into an empty bus lot to go sniff at the crime scene. He’s not really in danger here? But his tone of voice is so dismissive? Like he’s completely confused that Stiles would ever think that. But if they’ve been friends for ages, why would he only just now be finding out about it? And why would he dismiss it if they’re that close?

Then, of course, there’s Star Wars. Like...fine, whatever, Scott doesn’t like Star Wars. Except that it’s not that he doesn’t like it. It’s that he refuses to watch it. He knows nothing about Stiles’ favorite movie? He gets frustrated when Stiles makes Star Wars jokes because he doesn’t get them. But even KiRA is willing to watch it, and he just laughs about it.

Jackson and Lydia were supposed to be garbage to each other, but she still watched lacrosse videos with him and he watched The Notebook however many times Lydia wanted. If the couple we’re supposed to think is shitty is more kind to each other than Scott is to Stiles, what am I supposed to take away from that?

There’s also the part where he never just...believes Stiles? Not unless it’s in his favor. Sure, it sounds crazy that Stiles tells him he’s a werewolf and he’s gonna go crazy on a full moon. But Scott watched his bite completely disappear. He knows the shit he did on the field was bizarre and physically impossible for him. He doesn’t need his inhaler anymore. He heard Allison talking from Outside the School. There’s so much evidence to back Stiles up here, it’s ridiculous. And Scott still won’t believe him. Stiles tells Scott he thinks Matt’s the killer. Scott asks him why, Stiles doesn’t have an answer, and Scott immediately shuts him down. He tells Scott that it isn’t Lydia, and Scott argues with him, citing a test that he later admits he thinks is bullshit! Stiles tells Scott that virgins are being sacrificed and he’s scared he’ll be next, Scott laughs at him. Stiles tells Scott he thinks he was the one who wrote that shit on the board, the one who planted the bomb. Scott refuses to listen to him. He warns him about Theo, gets completely blown off. And Stiles is almost never wrong. But Scott continues to ignore him and refuses to believe him. Meanwhile Stiles believes Scott about Derek being dangerous. He believes Scott about Derek being the one in the bus. About how Peter is going after Allison (He must be going after Allison, the national archery finalist who’s always surrounded by hunters. Surely she’s “vulnerable.” It’s not like there’s someone way more vulnerable following Scott around, someone that Peter might force into helping him find Derek? HMMM?) Think about it, when does Stiles ever doubt Scott?

How he outright ignores Stiles just constantly? Even after he loses his temper with Stiles in the room in episode 1, he still goes to the Fucking Party. Even after Stiles tells him he can’t be in lacrosse anymore because it’s too dangerous, he ‘tries’ to quit and when he’s told that if he won’t play one game, he’s off first line, he outright ignores Stiles and fights with him until Stiles backs off and lets him play, where he proceeds to do EXACTLY what Stiles and Derek thought he would, and loses control. If ALlison hadn’t been there. People would have died. A kid from the other team saw Scott’s wolf eyes. He exposed himself! Then there’s the parts where he just pretends Stiles doesn’t exist. When he goes to hang out with Allison, and Stiles can’t get him on the phone, and when he finally answers he admits “did you get my texts?” “Yeah, all nine million of them” that he was literally just refusing to text Stiles back while he sat in the car with Allison and did nothing else. He won’t tell Stiles where he’s going, and he turns his phone off once they get to the woods. He also turns his phone off while Stiles is trying to take care of Derek, who IS POISONED and Bleeding and SHOT. Instead of trying to do anything he willfully ignores it and makes out with Allison, then wanders the house with Allison, then eats dinner with the family. He could’ve pulled the ‘i need to use the restroom’ ANY FUCKING TIME. He could’ve explained in a text at ANY TIME what he was doing and why it was taking so long. he just refused. When Stiles calls at the pool, Scott has no reason to hang up. Yeah, the phone made noise while it was ringing but after he hung up on Stiles he continued to just sit there with Allison and whisper to each other. He could’ve fucking talked on the phone! There was NOthing stopping him!

Then there’s how much danger he’s happy to put Stiles in? Like, he still hated Derek and thought he was a dangerous thug, while ignoring Stiles’ messages and leaving him alone with Derek. They knew Jackson was dangerous and had attacked Stiles before, and he left Stiles alone in the van with him?? Jackson wouldn’t need to break out of the vehicle, just the cuffs and Stiles would be dead. But for some reason Scott goes to school? LIke yeah I get it. He might fail his classes. But Stiles gave up first line just to check if Scott’s mom was the Alpha. Why couldn’t allison have watched Jackson with an arrow pointed at his head? She was better equipped than Stiles and in no danger of failing classes.

Look, I know I’m only talking about the first couple seasons but I have a rlly bad memory and I haven’t seen s3a or s3b in a long ass time. (gonna have to watch ‘em later tho while I work on the rewrite)

There’s probably more I’m missing. I’m just so damn cranky and sad. I’ll probably add more eventually when I get mad enough abt it.

#personal #Meta Ramblings #rant #anti-scott mccall #should I not be putting these 'read more' things in?#there's a weirdly big descrepancy in notes between my rants with read more's and my rants without

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jawritter · 3 years

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An Alpha And His Omega

Summary: Sometimes Alpha’s aren’t the assholes, sometimes words Omegas say things that can hurt too.

Written for: @flamencodiva and Diva’s Writing Challenge

Prompt: He was unconscious when I found him.

Warnings: Angst, virble arguments, the reader is a bitch of a bitch in this one, pining sickness, abo dynamics, sick!dean, language, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, claiming, scenting, protective Sam, (sam’s actually pretty scary in this one). I think that’s everything, sorry If I missed something.

Word count: 5860 (Whops)

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!reader

A/N: This fic was beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks again love! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy this one!

***MASTERLIST*** ***BECOME A PATREON***

There wasn’t a word to describe how angry you were right now with Dean Winchester. If you were strong enough, you’d kick his ass, and even though you were in excellent shape for an omega, you still couldn’t hold a candle to the big, brooding Alpha.

Dean had been in a bad mood for weeks now. Well, months if you think about it. You’d known Dean for years, ever since you were kids growing up at Bobby’s while your father’s went on hunting trips together, and you always got along well enough, better than most unmated Alphas did with unmated Omegas.

You attributed that to the life the two of you lived. It wasn’t exactly ideal for having any sort of mate really, and you always took your suppressants when you were around Dean.

Then you met Jamie. He was a good guy, and an even better hunter. He had all the physical attributes you would look for in an Alpha, and he didn’t want to settle down and have a litter of pups. He literally just wanted someone he could trust to help him through his ruts, and you wanted someone to help you through your heats.

It was a win, win situation. You helped each other when you needed help, and went your separate ways without any attachments. You knew Jamie wouldn’t claim you, and you knew you could go through the physical work up without being attached to him. Without getting those dreaded feelings. When you started this little arrangement, you began to take a lower dosage of suppressants because it wasn’t good to take such a high dosage all the time, and with Jamie being on call you didn’t need to fight against your biology as much.

That’s when you started having trouble with Dean Winchester.

It began with the twenty questions every time you would leave and come back from being with Jamie for a few days. Then once, you caught him layering his scent on your clothes in your closet, like you wouldn’t notice. Then it was the constant pandering behind you. Wanting you to eat the food he’d bring you, or constantly checking in on you when you just wanted to be left alone.

Then it progressed to being a dick to Jamie when he’d come around on the rare off chance he wanted to hang out with you all at the bar. Tonight had been one of those nights, and it was an Alpha pissing contest between Dean, and an uninterested Jamie, who had just come there to drink.

Dean had stalked Jamie out to his car while you went to the bathroom before you were supposed to part ways with Jamie, but when you got out to the car you found Jamie on the ground, and a pretty amused Dean kneeling over him.

You were infuriated. Jamie had done nothing wrong, and as much as Dean denied it, you knew it was him that broke Jamie’s jaw tonight, not some random guy from the parking lot like Dean tried to say it was. If it wasn’t Dean, Jamie wouldn’t have broken off your arrangement when you dropped him off at home from the hospital, and had to call Dean to come and pick you up off the side of the road because it was too cold to walk across town.

“I swear Y/N, he was unconscious when I found him,” Dean said, trailing you as you walked into the library where Sam and Jack sat with a pile of books between them.

That was it, your last straw, between being an ass hole to your friend, and being as clingy as a newly mated Omega you had, had all of Dean’s shit you could take. Not even stopping to think about what was going to come out of your mouth, you rounded on the very surprised Alpha.

“Fuck off Dean!, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m SICK to fucking death of you being up my ass all the time. Now you've gone and messed up a good arrangement because you're nothing but a pompous, self absorbed Alpha, who thinks he has some sort of claim on me because I live under his roof. Well guess what buddy, you don’t own me, I’m not your Omega, and never will be, your good for nothing but a breeder, and I’m not interested in getting knocked up any time soon, so stay the fuck away from me!”

The words had tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and the high pitched whine that seem to fall from deep inside of Dean’s chest as he staggered backwards away from you like you had burned with a brander, was almost as impressive as the surprising growl that came from Sam at the table. Even Jack jumped back and moved away from the three of you.

“I KNOW you just did not call my brother nothing more than a breeder,” Sam said through gritted teeth, using his impressive height to tower over you, and make your inner omega cower as you backed away from him. “I suggest you take your little, too good for a Winchester, ass to your room and leave my brother alone before I rip your fucking throat out. You’d be lucky to have an Alpha like Dean, but bitches like you don’t deserve the man he is.”

You could do nothing but back down and submit to the fuming Alpha, forgetting about Dean momentarily as he continued to whine like a dog that had been kicked while he retreated to his room, leaving you to Sam’s own devices. Jack stayed rooted to the spot he’d moved to when Sam had erupted from the table, taking everything in with wide, doe-like eyes.

“You know, you're lucky I don’t throw you out on your ass right now,” Sam said, stalking in front of you like he wanted to rip your head clean off your shoulders.You had never seen the younger Winchester so angry in your life. “Dean let you move in here, gave you a roof over your head, runs behind you hand over fist, and this is how you thank him? By calling him a breeder?”

“I’m sorry Sam, it just slipped out. After what he pulled with Jamie…”

“What did you think was going to happen, Y/N? Dean’s had a crush on you since we were barely teenagers, and when you stopped taking the suppressants it only got worse for him when he could actually scent you. Dean wouldn’t have hurt Jamie, because he doesn’t want to hurt you, and if he says he didn’t hit him, then he didn’t do it.”

You stood there, wide eyes staring at Sam in complete disbelief. Dean had a crush on you? It couldn’t be true, and if it was Dean had hidden it well. You had known him pretty much all your life, and while you always found him mildly clingy and annoying, it never even crossed your mind that Dean was harboring feelings towards you.

He was always a ladies man, the guy that could bed any girl he ever wanted, and you just never even suspected it.

“Sam, I…”

“Just, save it Y/N. But if I hear you talking to my brother like that again you're out of here. Got it?”

You nod, and make your way to your bedroom with your mind completely clouded and shock set deep in your bones. You paused outside of Dean’s closed door and started to knock on it, to apologize to him, but you just couldn't do it.

What if Sam was wrong, and you made a complete idiot of yourself? What if Dean didn’t like you, or have feelings for you at all? Hell, you weren’t even sure how you felt about him!

So you swallow hard, and keep walking, making your way to your own room, and drinking yourself to sleep with thoughts of Dean that you never let yourself think about before, rolling around in your mind.

The next few weeks in the bunker were tense to say the least. Dean barley left his room at all, and when he did he’d hardly speak to anyone, but he didn’t speak to you especially. Sam couldn’t even get him to go on a simple salt and burn with him upstate, Dean insisted he call Eileen to go with him.

Of course, Sam blamed you, and you felt that you deserved it.

Dean had a lot of good qualities. Sure, he could be a totally self absorbed asshat, but what person living and breathing, didn’t have their moments when they weren’t so fun to be around. Dean was loyal to a fault. Self sacrificing on a level you had never seen in anyone else, supernatural being or human. When he loved someone, he loved them completely. He gave more of himself than he rightfully should have had to in life, and that had its effect on him. It made him clingy and overprotective at times, and it made him a little bit of a pest, but looking back, you regretted ever saying that he was good for nothing but a breeder.

Dean Winchester was so much more than that. Sam was right, and the more you thought about it, the more right you discovered he was.

There was one side of Dean, a dark one that he carried from years of being in hell, becoming a knight of hell, and just having to grow up in this life in general, had left a stain on him. It told you not to challenge him, and not to push him right now. It said it in the way his body tensed every time you walked into the room since your little fight.

You wanted to apologize to him desperately, but you also didn’t want to push your luck with him, and get your ass kicked out. You were lucky you hadn’t had it done to you already.

This morning had started out just like any other. Sam had come back from his run, and was preparing his rabbit food, you were sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, and your laptop open, searching for a case, and everything seemed to be going on as it always did, everything but the blatantly empty space across the table from you that Dean normally occupied.

You suddenly lost your appetite for your coffee, or anything really, and pushed it away from you as Sam came and sat down at the opposite end of the table, his eyes scanning yours for a moment before he let out a long sigh, sitting his fork down and rubbing his hands over his face. The tension building in the room was almost tangible.

“I’m sorry Sam, I really am,” you finally tell him in a small voice, unable to look up in his eyes that you could feel staring back at you. “I didn’t mean what I said to Dean, I really didn’t. I was just so angry with him...I would go apologize to him, but I’m afraid he’ll try and take my fucking head off.”

“It’s not all you, Y/N,” he finally told you, running his fingers through his hair with a huff of irritation. “I probably made things worse when I exploded the way I did, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t handle the situation properly. That’s on me.”

A long silence passed between the two of you, and it seemed almost deafening. Until, finally, Sam spoke again, his eyes lingering on the hallway leading towards Dean’s room as he did.

“It’s not like Dean to hide away like this. I’m worried about him. He’s close to his rut, and that’s why he was being clingy towards you. He was trying to get your attention. He hasn’t been himself ever since. I don’t think he’s really even eating.”

“Do you think it would help if I left, just packed my shit and got away from him?” you asked Sam, but he just shook his head before standing with his plate.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to solve anything. I do think that years of suppressants may have deadened your senses to what Dean’s sensing, and that you need to give Dean a chance. He very well could be your true mate, and you just don’t know it.”

You thought about that in silence for a moment before you were finally able to make your voice work again. Could Dean really have been your true mate all this time? It didn’t seem real to you. Dean had never shown that he was interested in you, until recently when Jamie came around, and you had stopped using such strong suppressants.

Then it hit you. The suppressants were as strong, and Dean was probably able to really scent you for the first time.

The lump that formed in your throat felt like it was going to choke you to death, but you swallowed it, and looked up at Sam, who was now leaning on the bar watching you.

“What do I do, Sam? Where do I go from here?” you asked him, tears burning just below the surface. You had never felt so much regret in your life. Your heart literally hurt.

“Trust your instincts Y/N.This may not be easy, but what in life worth having ever is?”

For most of the morning, you spent your time pacing your room and ringing your hands, trying to decide what to do. You knew you had to do something. Dean hadn’t even come out of his room this morning, and you were becoming more and more worried about him by the second.

Consulting a few lore books had told you that the theory you and Sam had come up with this morning was more than likely the case. It said that when you're on strong suppressants long enough it can mask your scent to your mate completely, or even hide you from your true mate. It said that once you got started with the matting process that instinct would take over, and the rise in your body temperature would burn off the suppressants totally, giving you the ability to scent him as strongly as he could scent you.

You had decided that since Dean’s weakness was food, you were going to fix him some of his favorite pie, and bring it to him as a peace offering and see where things go from there. You had no sooner got to the kitchen though, when Sam slid in and told you to come with him before scurrying off to Dean’s room with you hot on his trail.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” you asked as you skidded to a stop in the open door way of Dean’s room. Dean’s back was to the door, and the covers pulled high up almost over his head. Sam was kneeling down in front of his brother with his hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, he’s burning up,” he told you, and you made your way cautiously around the bed to look at the Alpha that you had literally never seen ill a day in his life. Yet here he was, laying on his side, sweat forming just at his hairline, checks inflamed with fever, and shivering lightly.

“Dean,” you say softly, afraid to touch him, but something draws you closer to him all the same. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean’s darkened eyes looked up slowly to meet your gaze for a moment before he closed them again.

“What do you care,Y/N? All I’m good for is breeding right? So what’s one less Alpha in the world to you when you think I’m not worth your time anyway?”

If his words were intended to cut, then they did their job, because it took everything in you to hold back the whine that threatened to fall from your throat as his words seemed to slice into your very soul.

“Dean, come on, you know I didn’t mean it, I was just irritated with you and…”

“Save it, Y/N.” Dean said, not even bothering to open his eyes, and turning his back to you and Sam. Evidently, he was done talking.

“I’ll go call Jody, she may be able to tell us what’s going on with you,” Sam said, mouthing for you to stay here, and talk to his brother, earning him a death glare that you hoped showed him just how much you wanted to strangle him right now.

How the fuck where going to get Dean to talk to you if he didn’t want too? He was literally the most stubborn man you had ever met, and when he was done talking you couldn’t torture a word out of him.

‘Follow your instincts, Y/N,' you said to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you got up and went to sit on the edge of the bed close enough that you could feel the heat coming from his body.

“Dean, please, I’m sorry. I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be. Please know that I didn’t mean a word that I said to you. You're a lot more than a breeder, and I’m sorry I ever said it to you.”

You got no response, and for a moment you wondered if he’d fallen asleep, until he rolled over to face you again. He looked so tired, so pale. You had never seen Dean this down. Not even when Sam jumped in the pit, and he ran off to Lisa.

“You remember when we were kids? You presented as an Omega and you were so angry about it. You were sure you were going to present as an Alpha,” Dean said, a ghost of a smile on his lips as a shiver ripped through his body. “ You told Bobby that your genetics were wrong, and you weren’t going to accept that you were an Omega.”

Your mind brought you back to that. You were sitting outside with Dean on the hood of an old Ford truck in the wrecking yard when you presented. You were so fucking angry. Now you just saw it as another sign of what should have been so obvious, but wasn’t until now, and you had to fight against the sting of tears that burned in your eyes.

“I remember. I was angry that I was going to spend my life as a pup factory for some dick Alpha, and I wouldn’t be able to hunt anymore.”

“You know, all you would have had to do was say the word, and I would have claimed you right there,” Dean said, causing you to stare at him in complete shock. Dean was a few years older than you, and had presented as Alpha long before you had presented at all, but to hear him say that outloud you nearly swallowed your tongue.

“I didn’t do it because I knew you would have resented me forever. You had so much pent up anger that I knew you needed to work through it before you were ever able to even think about something that extreme. You needed to find yourself, to have a life outside of being tied to another person. So I let you go.”

“Dean,” you tried to stop him before the water works could start, but to no avail, he just kept talking, like a pot that was boiling over with pent up emotions and there was just no stopping it.

“Then you left for a little while, but when you came back, I couldn’t scent you anymore. I didn’t understand what happened, so I just let it go, thinking that it was just young hormones raging that almost made me claim you. Then, when I had all but shoved every bit of feeling down that I ever had for you, you walked by me in a bar and I could scent you again, just as strong as I had that day. I knew I had to get your attention, but I was too late and you had Jamie.”

You looked away from him as the tears you had been holding back began to fall, unable to look at him anymore.

“I knew you didn’t feel for me what I’ve always felt for you Y/N, but I never expected you to see me as nothing more than a breeder, a mutt, a worthless piece of Alpha trash, nothing more than a knot. I never expected you to reject me this way.”

“Dean, I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t know,” you tell him through tears, but he just shivered again, letting his eyes close. The fever that was raging inside of him was making him exhausted, and even you could see it.

“Let me get you something to try and bring the fever down,” you tell him, but as you tried to stand his hand caught yours, stopping you in your tracks.

“Sam already did that, and it hasn’t worked. Just, stay with me, please,” he begged you.

Words failed you as your heart broke deep down inside of you, and you sat back down on the bed beside him, watching as his breathing evened out, and his shivering seemed to relax a little.

Of all the things that you thought would take Dean out, this was not the way you saw him going, and yet here you were, feeling so helpless and lost as you watched him sleep, praying Jody would have an answers to what was going on with him, because right now, it looked like Dean wasn’t going to be able to fight this fever off much longer, and you had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

You don't know how long you sat there next to Dean while he slept. It could have been fifteen minutes, it could have been three hours. You had no idea, because to you time seemed to have slowed to an unbelievable crawl.

You did notice that the more you played with his hair, and held his hand in yours, that his over stressed body seemed to relax more. If this was going to give them some measure of comfort, then so be it.

You never noticed until now that you had never really LOOKED at Dean. You never really paid that much attention to just how painfully handsome he was. Even for the line of work you guys did, he had surprisingly very few scars on his face, and the ones he did have only seemed to attribute to his already ruggedly handsome face. The sun kissed skin, and the light dusting of freckles everywhere contrasted one another, but in a good way, it gave him an almost boyish look while he was relaxed and asleep like this. His strong, sharp jaw still held enough of an edge of softness to it that you found yourself wanting more than ever to touch his face, to feel the stubble that was actually a light beard at this point, under your fingers.

His plump, pink lips were parted slightly, and even though his breathing was still coming in pants more than completely normal breaths, he looked peaceful.

You were so entrapped staring at him, that when Sam came skidding to a halt in the door way you nearly fell off of the bed when he spoke in a voice so loud it almost disturbed Dean, who shifted a little in the bed to subconsciously get closer to you, and away from the noise.

“Y/N! Jody says she thinks she knows what the problem is…”

“SHHH!!!” you tell him, adjusting the covers over Dean’s shoulders, and gave Sam a stern look. Sam mouthed “sorry,” before coming closer to you and clearing his throat as he came to the other side of the bed.

“Jody thinks she knows what’s wrong with him,” Sam said a little calmer, pulling a chair to sit down next to Dean’s bed.

“Okay...we’ve established that. Wanna tell me what it is, or you gonna make me try and guess it?” you tell him, quickly getting annoyed that he seemed to have forgotten you couldn’t read minds.

“Right, sorry. She thinks that when you two got in a fight a few weeks ago, that the rejection triggered pinning sickness. It’s rare for Alpha’s, but apparently can sometimes happen when you get rejected by your true mate. I looked it up, and he has every symptom. Fever, weight loss, loss of appetite, increased irritation and moodiness, vomiting…”

“Vomiting? When was he vomiting?” you cut in, and Sam gives you an apologetic look.

“Yesterday, he told me not to tell anyone, and that he’d just eaten something bad. Obviously he was covering up the fact that he was in this bad of a shape, which is normal for Dean. Downplay everything until you can’t do it anymore.”

Shaking your head in annoyance, you brush it off to bitch about it later. You hated it when Dean did shit like that. He was allowed to have bad days, just like everyone else was, and you absolutely hated it when he downplayed what he was really feeling.

“So what do we do?” you ask him, and Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat before meeting your gaze, taking a moment to put his hand over his brother’s forehead to gage his temperature before answering you.

“Well, everything I can find and know about pinning sickness is that close contact with your true mate helps. Like now just from you playing with his hair, and holding his hand like that his temperature seems to be down a good bit. In order for him to get fully past it, you're going to have to let him claim you.”

You tried to hide just how terrifying that thought was to you. To have a mate in this life, to have someone tided to you, to put each other in danger, much less it be a fucking Winchester. This was something you never wanted, but now that he brought it up, you couldn’t help but picture yourself with Dean, maybe even with a pup on your hip that would have brilliant green eyes, just like his father.

“You think he will go for it?” you asked Sam. No one knew Dean better than Sam, and you were not sure how to even begin to have this conversation with Dean after what you had told him. After how you had hurt him.

“I think you won't have to ask him twice,” Sam said, standing up and making his way to the door. “Just, don’t hurt him again, okay? Cause I don’t think he can live through another disappointment.”

You couldn’t make your voice work properly for the tears that were threatening to fall if you tried to speak, so you just nodded your head and continued running your fingers through Dean’s short hair as he slept next to you.

“Wait until he wakes up, let his body recover some, when he does he should be ready,” Sam said before closing the door, and leaving you alone with Dean.

Dean slept for probably another three hours before he even began to stir again, but you could tell by the way he moved and felt when you touched him that his fever was almost gone completely.

You watched as he stretched next to you, and cracked his eyes open to find you still there next to him, then you watched as the look of relief of finding you turned into fear and rejection in what seemed like seconds. It made your heart seize in your chest to think that you had hurt him that badly.

“Good morning handsome,” you try and tease him, but Dean just pulls his hand away from yours, and pulls the covers tighter around himself.

“Morning,” he said simply, avoiding your gaze.

“How do you feel?” you asked him, and he just shrugged, continuing to stare at the wall opposite him.

“Better.You can go now, you don’t have to sit with me, I”m sure you’d rather go and try to talk to Jamie anyway,” Dean said, and you swore you could hear a whine behind his words.

You weren’t going to let him push you away now, not when you had already made up your mind that this is what you wanted, and had always wanted. Even when you were running the bars with him, it had always been Dean that you really wanted, you were just too afraid to admit it.

“I’m not going anywhere Dean,” you tell him, pulling the covers up and sliding in next to the evidently shocked Alpha, who grunted, but didn’t fight you as you snuggled into his arms and close to his broad chest where his heart was hammering away at his rib cage at the close contact of you with him.

Once you saw that he wasn’t going to physically kick you out of his bed, you took the only moment of bravery you were sure you were going to find, and brushed your lips lightly over his mating gland in his thick neck, scenting him deeply, pulling a curse and a shiver from his broad body as he pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“Fuck baby, don’t do that,” he grunted as your teeth lightly grazed the skin of his pulse point, and his hands slid down to grip your hip tightly. “If you start this, I’m not gonna be able to stop, and I...I don’t want you to be tied to someone who is nothing but a breeder, when someone is out there a lot better than me, someone that can give you a stable home and a family.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh you kick yourself again for ever calling him that, reaching up to brush your hands through his hair as he tried to nuzzle himself into your hand. His words were telling you to walk away, but everything in his was screaming for you.

“Dean, you're not just a breeder, I told you, I was just angry, you're so much more than that. I wish you could see what I see in you.”

Dean swallowed thickly and looked away from you, but you weren’t going to let him drop it that easy.

“You’re so strong Dean. Most people that have gone through half the shit you’ve faced in life would have killed themselves by now, and look at you! You’re still here, as many things that have tried to kill you, you’re still here! You’re a fucking hero, you’ve saved countless people time and time again. You love with your whole heart, you’re loyal and protective, you’re everything any Omega would want in an Alpha and then some, so don’t ever think you’re just a knot, but you’re so much more than that, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it sooner.”

Dean didn’t say anything, and you could see that he was shutting down, so you did the only thing you knew to do. Taking a deep breath you steel your nerves, and placed a timid kiss to his still slightly parted lips. For a moment, he just froze, but it didn't take long for the tidal wave of emotions to come crashing down over the two of you.

You weren’t really sure of a lot of things . There was so much unknown in every aspect of your life, so you just never expected anything to be constant, not for you, you would die alone on the end of a gun, knife, or at the hands of some freak, and that was the only thing in life you would ever be able to count on. But right now, in this moment, you couldn’t see anything past the two of you, two halves that had fought against becoming whole for so long that the relief was almost insurmountable and indescribable.

As tender, scared kisses turned into more needy and demanding kisses filled with passion and fire that seemed to source down to your very soul. Clothing began to fall to the floor, and shy little touches became rough and more determined. You were sure that this was the piece of your life that had always been missing.

Dean was still fairly weak from days of being sick, but the more his bar skin touched yours, the more his lips and teeth trailed their way down your throat, and over your mating gland, the more his body seemed to come alive again. Yours wasn’t that far behind either, slick quickly coating your thighs as your body seemed to know what your mate needed before you ever could have guessed it, and that was to become connected to you as quickly as possible. Years of waiting made the heated kisses and touches seem that much more intense, and as Dean slid his length fully inside of you without hindrance, you could have sworn you felt the world stop turning.

Most of the time, from what you had been told, when soul mates actually mate and are claimed by their mates it’s a rough and primal act that’s over as fast as it begins. This was so much different than that. It was deeper, more sensual that you would have ever thought to be possible. Every deep thrust of his cock into your waiting heat that was already trembling around him as he stretched and filled you over and over again felt as if it were connecting you at a level deeper than the physical pleasure that was raging through your bodies like a brush fire in the burning summer heat.

He never tried to flip you over like you expected him to, and demand you present like most Alpha’s would have, but instead he held his body over yours with his powerful arms and shoulders balancing his weight so that he wouldn’t hurt you, but kept you facing each other so that he could watch you as you began to get closer and closer to your release, as your body shuttered underneath him as his knot began to swell and catch at your entrance, forcing thrust to turn into deep rutting push and pull that only served to push you both over the edge you had been teetering on.

Even as his teeth sank deep into your mating gland, connecting you to him at your very soul, you had no regrets except that you had waited this long to figure out what had always been there, and had always been missing.

Dean flipped the two of you carefully to your sides as you waited until his knot had gone down, playing with your hair, and licking lightly at your claiming mark, while you tried to catch your breath, letting the bond cement itself as it only could between an Alpha, and his Omega. Suddenly, all the things you had always feared, a life, a family, didn’t seem so scary. Not as long as Dean was there with you each step of the way.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x you #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x Omega!reader #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #abo #abo fanfic #omega!reader #x reader inserts #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fandom #jawritter #an alpha and his omega

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captainkappa · 3 years

Text

Fanfic:: In Other Hands

When Din and Cobb go to take care of some slavers, Cobb is disarmed and has to improvise with the weapons that have fallen off Din’s utility belt.

Din/cobb, post-season 2, canon-typical violence

Shout out to coffeequill for betaing!

Link to AO3

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As Cobb picks off another slaver running in fear of his life, he realizes how regular this is becoming. And it has all started with a meeting with the new self-proclaimed ‘King of Tatooine.’

He has invited all kinds of authority to Jabba’s old palace, now his. Even though Mos Peglo isn’t on the map anymore, Cobb wakes up to a stern-faced woman at his front door all the same. The conversation on the ride over hasn’t been great, but it does confirm the rumor that floated around Tatooine in the past few weeks.

The new king is the Boba Fett.

He has heard stories about Boba Fett, who hadn’t? Late enough in a cantina in Mos Eisley, it wouldn’t take long before someone started talking about their buddy who had family who had a friend who got taken in by the famed bounty hunter, never to return.

So yeah, Cobb is man enough to admit that, as he’s led through the dark, old palace, he is a little on edge. At the door, no one even asks for his blaster, which is a clear enough message as he’d ever heard.

His heart damn near plummets when he faces the man himself though.

Because if he is the rightful owner of the suit of armor Cobb had, he is properly fucked.

And damn did he ever look better in it, all polished and properly painted. He could see the glint of what might be his old armor behind him, on proud display.

Cobb tries to shake himself out of his fear and take in the rest of the room. The woman who led him there takes position on the other side of Fett. There are other people in the chamber, clearly all from Tatooine, looking just as scrappy as he. He tries his best to look his most mayoral as Fett starts talking about his plans for the planet. It is… far more humanitarian than he expected, with plans laid out for wiping out the slavers who take more than they give.

Cobb instantly likes Fett way more.

Then he is asking they introduce themselves and when the line gets to Cobb, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m Cobb Vanth, marshal of Mos Pelgo. And I hoped Mando mentioned that I wasn’t the one to destroy the jetpack.”

Boba looks at him for a moment before letting out a laugh that echoed in the chamber. He turns around to face the suit of armor.

But then it moves.

He can’t help the words coming out of his mouth, interrupting the new king.

“Mando, is that you?”

And with that, the entire meeting is thrown into disarray. Cobb barely pays attention to the others as he meets Mando halfway up the steps to clasp his hand in both of his, making sure he’s real. Questions are flying out of his mouth a mile a minute; where’s the kid? When did he get back? How the hell do he and Boba know each other?

Mando and Boba share a look and with a shrug, the king dismisses them, the other authority figures looking confused as Mando leads him back into the palace, where they can catch up in peace.

Cobb tries not to think about how Mando’s hand doesn’t leave his until they’ve arrived at the room.

It’s been a couple of months since they first met, but Mando keeps making his way in Cobb’s memories. He tries to play it off as simple appreciation, he can appreciate the pure physicality of everything Mando had done, that was normal. But the longer he thinks about how Mando handled his son, the affection that could be stored in shoulders and head tilts, he has to admit that he’s harboring something else fiercely in his heart.

But those thoughts leave temporarily as Mando describes everything that happened since he left and Maker, if it doesn’t bring a tear to his eye seeing the restraint to which he described being separated from his son. Cobb can tell he’s not telling him everything that happened that day, but he doesn’t mind. Thankfully, Mando has managed to get contact of the Jedi since then, so he can see him and visit occasionally, but it’s just not the same.

Cobb is considering putting his hand on top of Mando’s when there’s a knock at the door and Boba, helmetless, lets himself in. He’s just as intimidating a figure with or without it, scars telling enough of a story as to the character of the man who proclaimed himself king.

Conversation flits between business and pleasure, stories about Boba, Mando, and Fennec on Tatooine. It’s clear the three of them have been planet side for a couple of weeks, if the body language between them is anything to go by. Cobb lets himself feel a little offended before letting it go. Mando clearly had some shit to parse through and Boba and Fennec had been there for him.

Any anxiety Cobb had about meeting the king has left. He leaves the palace with a scheduled date to take out some slavers near Mos Pelgo.

-=-

And now here Cobb is, a couple missions in, ducked behind some crates, picking off slavers one by one as they run out of the cave where Mando has since been let loose. He’s almost sad to miss seeing how Mando fights, especially if the terrified looks of those who thought they’d escaped are anything to do by.

It’s just them on this mission. He takes small pride when Mando vouched for his skill in front of Fett, letting him know they didn’t need any more help. It’s nice to know he’s earned Mando’s trust.

Ducking behind the crate, he’s swapping out power cells when Mando gets thrown out of the cave, rolling with a low grunt. He’s quickly followed by three of the biggest guy’s Cobb has ever seen, human all of them.

“Mando!”

He gets a hand waved at him for his trouble as Mando staggers to his feet, pulling out the spear on his back. At one point, Cobb had wondered if it was just decorative, but seeing Mando fight with it, as it sings in the air, the impact it makes on arms and heads, reveals it to be anything but.

But his fancy fighting with the goons isn’t helping him in a three on one match, especially with how long they’ve been at it already.

He takes another solid hit and goes flying farther away from Cobb, items from his belt going spinning into the sand.

Cobb shoves the battery pack in the blaster and tries to take a couple shots at the slavers before the trigger clicks.

Jammed.

“Dank farrik,” he yells, slapping the side of the blaster. All that gets him is a stinging palm.

He glances up to see all three goons going for Mando. Thinking quick, he fishes the knife he keeps stored in his boot and chucks it at the closest guy, only it goes lower than expected and pings off the armor.

Shit.

Cobb quickly scans for any weapon available as he hears Mando continue to get his ass handed to him. There’s a knife, but Cobb doesn’t trust his aim a second time, but it’s the thing beside it that catches his eye. It looks like a hilt, with what must be a spring-loaded blade inside, even if the size seems wrong for such a weapon.

As if he can tell what he’s thinking, Mando yells from across the way, “Don’t touch it!”

Well, with an invitation like that.

Cobb knows he’ll only have one shot at this. He vaults over the crate and scoops up the hilt. He gets a brief glance at it, figures the best place to hold it without hurting himself before charging in.

He takes a running leap before latching himself around the closest guy. He pulls his arm back for a swing.

He pushes the button and instead of a vibro-blade, a jet-black beam of light cuts through the man’s head as smooth as bantha butter.

“Fuck!” Cobb yells, falling off the man as his other arm screams in pain. He scrambles off the man’s back as he falls forward, dead as a doornail.

The blade stays there, letting out a faint humming as it lies in the sand, partially buried from where the man fell. The sand bubbles around the blade, heating up impossibly fast as it sits there, looking like a hole to the middle of the planet against the glare of the sand.

Before he can comprehend the power of the sword, a noise in front of him told him Mando still had trouble on his hands.

Cobb struggles to his feet, trying to pull out the blade as cleanly as possible before walking forward.

“Hey!” he yells, throat going dry as he catches a glance at the state of Mando, shoulders heaving and armor not looking terribly pretty.

That at least gets one of the goon’s attention, who looks at the blade in his hand and at his dead buddy.

“Leave ‘im alone.”

The guy doesn’t appreciate that and gets out his own blade, long and curved like a machete, before charging.

Cobb has never been a swordfighter, so he tries to go with motion that felt natural, a two-handed grip as he raises the sword to block the incoming attack.

He’s not expecting the blade to cut through the knife like it’s nothing. His balance thrown off, he tries to use the momentum to shove into the other man, forcing him to stumble back.

The other man looks just as surprised as Cobb feels, but he has a slightly better grip on the strange weapon. He takes the slavers hesitation to lunge with a swipe to the chest. The man goes down quick, a visible molten line through his armor.

It’s at that instant the smell of burn hair and flesh hits him. He falls to his knees, blade slipping through his fingers. He hears it sizzle and pop against the sand, but he can’t bring himself to right it.

He doesn’t know how long he stares at what lay before him.

“Cobb?” His head snaps up as he sees Mando blocking one of the suns. His armor is littered with blaster residue and a pauldron is hanging to his arm by a thread.

He should ask if he’s okay, if he’s handled the other guy.

“What the fuck is that?” he asks instead, pointing to the black blade.

Mando’s shoulder’s drop in a way that makes him expect a lecture, but then the Mandalorian stiffens, rushing to his side with a speed he wouldn’t have expected after that fight.

“You’re hurt!” And Cobb looks down at where he is looking before quickly looking away.

His left vambrace has been cut in two. Cobb only gets a glance at the wound before he has to look away, gut clenching. There is a huge gash on his arm that already looks cauterized.

“Easy, easy,” Mando says quietly, head suddenly right by his shoulder. “C’mon.”

“I can still walk,” Cobb says. He can tell he’s not convinced as steadier hands help him to his feet.

He swears he can hear Mando laugh as the wind kicks up and he feels his scarf be pulled up over his nose.

The last thing he hears before he passes out is Mando’s low voice saying, “We’ll be back at Boba’s soon.”

-=-

When Cobb wakes up, his head feels like it weighs as much as a bantha.

He puts two and two together when his head lolls around and he glimpses at the dim room around him, at white bandages around his arm. With no room looking nearly this nice at Mos Pelgo, he must be in Boba’s palace and he must be pumped full of drugs after the fight.

There’s movement close to his arm and he looks up and Mando is right there, beside him, fidgeting with something.

“Hey,” Cobb says, hoping the feeling of cotton in his mouth will pass.

Mando sits up straighter, visor turning to face him. “Hey, how do you feel?”

“Like my arm has been trampled to death, but it’s attached, so I can’t be too mad. You alright?”

He gets a head tilt at that. “I’m not the one in the medical wing.”

Cobb waves him away with his good arm. “Yeah, yeah, but you still took a beating from those guys.”

The helmet ducks down, and Cobb bites his lip to avoid blabbing about how cute the gesture is. “I’m fine.”

Cobb clicks his tongue. “Now don’t you go looking like that.”

Another head tilt, but Cobb continues, “If you feel bad about what happened back there, don’t. I won’t hear of it. You told me not to touch the laser sword and I still did. And I’d do it again if it meant saving your hide.”

He blanches, having wanted to keep that last part to his chest.

Mando, to his credit, doesn’t comment on it. He reaches down and unclips the hilt from his side and ignites it. Cobb can’t help but flinch back into the bed as it comes to life, humming in that eerie way as it did in the desert. It’s somehow more striking here, the glowing outline more obvious in the dim light of the room.

“It’s called a darksaber, Mando begins, “I won it on Moff Gideon’s ship by accident. It… it’s a symbol of authority and power for Mandalorians.”

“Oh, is that all?”

That gets him a huff of a laugh from Mando as he extinguishes the blade and slips it back on. A quiet descends into the room. Now, Cobb can handle silence and he can handle being still. He just can’t handle both at the same time.

“I hope Boba doesn’t charge me for room and board.”

“He was impressed, said you could stay here as long as needed.”

Oh. The knot of worry that had appeared out of nowhere unravels in Cobb’s chest. He’d been at least expecting a debt of some kind, hackles still raised even if he liked the man, the distrust of authority running deep.

“We’ll probably get called for more jobs after you’re healed, though.”

“That sounds like the opposite of a problem,” Cobb says with a smirk.

A sudden tiredness floats over him like a blanket and he closes his eyes for what feels like a second but could be any amount of time.

There’s a moment where he thinks Mando has left the room, before he registers the feeling of soft fingers on his hand. He cracks open an eye and sees Mando still sitting where he was, his gloves off as he runs his thumb over his knuckles, catching in scars and pocket marks Cobb had collected throughout the years.

Cobb shifts and Mando’s hand stills. Acting on instinct and ignoring the feeling that floods through him, he holds Mando’s hand as tightly as he dare with the bandage.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Mando says, voice quiet.

“I just woke up.”

Mando lets out a huff that might be considered a laugh. “You were only asleep for half an hour.”

“Alright, then you gotta go to bed too.”

“Cobb…”

“Mando…”

“It’s Din.”

He swallows down his feelings once more, not trusting himself in this drugged up state to say more. “Alright, Din, go to bed. You got roughed up too.”

“Alright,” his voice trails off but then he’s clearing his throat and saying, “Thank you. I- I haven’t had the chance to say that yet.”

This time, Cobb is able to keep the words close to his chest as he drifts back to sleep.

Anytime, partner.

#dincobb #cobbdin #marshmando #din djarin x cobb vanth #din/cobb #kappa writes #my fanfic #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #a totally different star wars ship jump started this idea #because why shouldn't cobb get his hands on the darksaber?#also omg im v nervous posting this idk if im 100% satisfied with it

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